Random Theology

Debra Lynn had some weighty conversational topics for our mother daughter afternoon of shopping and sushi.
"Will Adam and Eve be in heaven?" she asked me, over her teriyaki steak. "They knew God, and taught their children about Him, but they died beford Jesus came." I let her talk through it while I tried to formulate some sort of response.
"I remember!"she then said. "Daddy told me they get to go to Moses' gizzard."
I almost spewed my mouthful of crunchy roll across the table.
"What?!" she had to know.
"I think you mean, Abraham's Bosom." I said.
She looked amused and suddenly self-conscious should my laughter draw looks from the hibachi customers.
After that, I couldn't shake the giggles long enough to unpack the issue further.
I'm sure we'll revisit it again. I'm glad she doesn't shy away from big questions.

Love Notes..

Dear Mom, I have you. I love you too. Love, Ben
Dear Mom, I love you mom, and you are nice, loving, kind, funny, and a lot more things that I can't think of. Love, Timothy.
Dear Mom, I am so greatful to have you as a mother. Non of the birthday party, playdates and other fun stuff would happen with out you. You will live in my childhood. I love you. You are the 1# mom. Love, Debra
The kids clustered around me, armed with these priceless cards, and served me (with daddy's help, of course) a tray of 3 blueberry pancakes, a pepper jack omelette, a cup of coffee and a rose from the front hedge. Benjamin instructed me as to how to hold it by its base so I wouldn't get poked by the thorns. Benjamin had also been darting in and out of the room over the previous 45 minutes, ensuring that I was awake but that I wouldn't be getting out of bed, because they had a surprise for me.
Last year was my first experience with kid-orchestrated breakfast in bed on Mother's Day. Bill was in India, and Debra Lynn showed up sloshing a bowl of cheerios and milk for me at 6:04am. I felt the love then, as I do now, but this year is hard to beat.

Birthday or Coronation

Our daughter Debra Lynn turned 7 today. We had 6 little girls over around lunch time. The girls took turns making their own pizzas and assembling some of those Lowe's build-it kits with the help of Super Dad. We had a round of squirt gun fights in the back yard and cake and presents. I collapsed on the couch towards the end, but was very pleased with how things went.
I keep intending to scale down what we do for birthdays, because the expectations of the children can become unmanageable. They already understand, fortunately, that we do not offer the party extravaganzas they have experienced with a few of their friends: hiring a magician to perform, offering pony rides in the front yard, renting the Party Pad, Chuck E. Cheese (or some other parent-tormenting station). But they have come to expect a home party with lots of friends and presents.
When Debra was being a bit demanding and particular this morning, Bill mentioned under his breath, "You might remind her that she is having a birthday, not a coronation." That made me giggle.
How do you celebrate birthdays? Do you experience the tension of celebrating your loved one without going overboard?

Rite of Passage

Our daughter lost her first ever tooth tonight! With her 7th birthday one week away, she was beginning to think it would never happen. She was positively elated, and as proud as if she had just given birth. Here is the message she put under her pillow for the tooth fairy:
"Dear tooth fairy,
Can I ceep my tooth.
Thank you
Debra
Bill and I decided we should keep the note, and just ensure that she doesn't see it until years later.

Warthogs or Girls?

My four-year-old was taking a survey of his own design this morning.
He started with his big brother. Pointing to his crude drawing of a face with two eyes and long hair, and a face with hair and a pig snout, he asked, pen poised,
"Do you like warthogs or girls?"
After a time of brief reflection, Timothy stated, "Girls."
Benjamin made the appropriate notes and said,
" I like girls too, because I don't want to be snuffed by a warthog."

What's My Name when I'm in trouble?

"Mommy, what's my name when I'm in trouble?", Benjamin wants to know. I'm unsure what he is getting at, but he restates the question. I assure him that he is not in trouble, and that his name is always the same, and that it's a wonderful name. Then he answers his own question, "Why do you call me Benjamin Luke when I am in trouble?" There it is. I've joined the throngs of parents who utilize the middle name for emphasis in a behavorial crisis. I'll try to vary my approach a little, so he doesn't come to fear hearing his full name - or maybe I'll need the extra clout with him.

Tact

"Your cat is dead, Debra. Molly died. That old man, our neighbor, said so."
The tact of little brothers. That is not the way I'd hoped to break the news to our daughter, and I hadn't even realized that wise little Benjamin had picked up on my conversation with the neighbor the day before. Did I know anyone with a little black and white kitty with a collar. She had been accidentally backed over by our neighbors the day before. It sounded too much like our Molly, but I was still hoping it wasn't and I was certainly not ready to tell the kids about it.
I guess 4 yo Ben thought the walk to the school bus was as good a time as any. He looked puzzled when he saw me standing there holding her while she was crying, so he decided to repeat the news flash. I interrupted him, "let's not talk about that anymore Benjamin, it's hurting her feelings." His brow furrowed over her distress, as if seeing the gravity of the situation for the first time. He stooped down and picked up two pine needles and held them in front of our faces. "This is you, Debbuh, and this one is mommy." Then he crossed them over eachother. "And you are hugging." For some reason, we got tickled over that, and giggles covered over wailing. We spent the rest of the wait for the bus musing about kitties in heaven. Not sure that they will be there, but I don't think God is going to take issue with this point of theology when it consoles the pain of his precious ones.

Fulfilled Prophecy

"Enjoy these years. They go fast."
How many times have I heard this sage wisdom, and thought, "Yeah right, it's only 10 am and lunch/ nap time is light years away." Or, "There is a reason people have to be told to enjoy these years. They were too fatigued to enjoy them themselves."
Now, sure enough, my youngest is nearly four, and every piece of baby furniture has been donated and even the half-pack of pull-ups given away. In a way, it did go fast.
I hope I can always enjoy the stage our kids are in now, enjoying memories of how they got to where they are today, and anticipating the future, but mostly soaking in who they are now.

Like a Seed

Timmy clung to me for extra bedtime hugs and kisses. Sometimes I look at his lanky, 7 year old body, and finally get how fast it all goes.
"I'm going to miss you tonight," he said. I smile and reassure him that I 'm not going anywhere, and that I'll be there when he wakes up.
He said, "I'm like a seed. I don't want to come out of the ground and see things. I don't want to leave." I pointed out that a tree with branches spreading all around still has roots in the soil.
It is tender to see his contrasting needs for attachment and separation, oneness and independence. Bless us on this journey of growing up together, Lord.

Morning Mouth

Benjamin is quite the little snuggler. Almost his first words, once I'm mobile in the mornings, are "I want a huggie." One morning, as we were snuggling on the couch, he sternly studied my face, then asked with gravity, "Mommy? You got pooh pooh in your mouf?" I promptly brushed my teeth - giggling.

Pink Grass

Debra Lynn said a while back, "I love green. If there was no green, then there would be no milk." "How's that?" I ask. " if there was no green, there would be no grass and no cows could eat it so there would be no milk. They wouldn't eat pink grass." You've got to love a child's reasoning.

Albania

Debra Lynn was eating her kitty shaped pancakes while I read about Albania from a book about how to pray for other nations. As I read about the bleak conditions and overcrowded orphanages, Debra Lynn disappeared from her seat and reappeared holding a collection of toys she wanted to deliver to a little girl in Albania as soon as she was old enough to take a mission trip. I was touched by her fervor, and said, we could begin now by praying for the children in Albania together.
Then she said, " but, I can go all over Louisiana too, because there are people here who don't believe in God and don't know about the real Christmas. Maybe I'll do that first."
God, channel and mature her precious enthusiasm for your people, and help me guide her into real outreach opportunities here and now. We did talk about how we could share Jesus' with some of her friends at school. She suggested we get a little book about easter being about more than the easter bunny, and giving it to her friends at her easter party. That seems a good starting place.

Happy Feet

I call our little Benjamin, Happy Feet. He has a spring in his step, from the moment he pops out of bed. His little gallopping, hopping feet resound on our wooden floors before the sun has seriously considered rising. And once the sun has made an appearance, he drops the whispery tone, and says to his still slumbering daddy or brother, "The sun is up!! Get up!!" He can't fathom anyone not wanting to jump feet first into the new day, regardless of the hour. And believe it or not, he is slowly making an early morning convert out of his mommy.

The New Royalty

The monarchy has been reinstated here in America, and it's by a new flock of Princesses. You see them everywhere: flouncing about in dress-up ball gowns, preening in the mirror with roll-on glitter and lip gloss, and turning pirouettes on a stage before an audience of watch-watching relatives. Any accessory or appliance imaginable can be found stamped by princesses. Disney was savvy and put them all in a regal league together: Cinderella, Jasmine, Ariel, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. Their faces now grace backpacks, lamps, flash lights, dinner ware, crowns and beads, you name it.

I have a daughter myself, and it is precious to watch her twirl in a tutu or totter by on plastic heels, with head held high. But I sometimes wonder, what we will do when our precious 2, 3, and 4 year old princesses grow up and begin to demand reign in their larger kingdom? It's harmless and sweet now, but when the little sweeties start demanding the applause, center-stage: gifts and favors which were once fun to bestow could begin to feel obligatory, and increasingly less appreciated. If they've been told they can do no wrong, that they are the fairest of them all, and that there is nothing they can't do or have, reality will smart a good deal. With the deepening of vanity and pride and how does one then reaquaint them with reality without crushing the "self-esteem" so carefully built?

What are we moms of budding princesses to do? Revel together in the joys of girlhood, and don't rush with them into teendom. Snuggle and giggle, dress-up, dance to music, taste cookie batter, set up tea parties, gather garden bouquets and sing made-up songs on the piano together. Steer away from the media "princesses" as ideals, and point out what it is to be a real lady. (In fact, my dad tells a joke that a man should never hitch himself to a woman whose father dubs her "princess" - talk about high maintenance!!) Hold up the heroic women of the Bible as real examples to follow. Dispell the myth that one must be the "fairest of them all" to be fair or content at all. And remind them that yes, you are special as God's Little Princess, as the book GiGi by Sheila Walsh poignantly tells. . . . And so are all these other children of His, so treat them accordingly. Look for ways to serve, rather than be served. Treat all His "subjects" with courtesy and respect, and to be ready to use what it is that God has given you, whether or not it is the best that there is out there.
May we all have eyes to see ourselves as He, the King of all kings, sees us!