Super Frog

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Yesterday, we had such a good laugh that I feel compelled to share. 

On our way to church, my kids were practicing their memory verse for Sunday school, which was taken from the book of Philippians. This is what Boy #2 recited:

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Amphibians 4:13." 

Of course, this is from the same child who, around age 2 or 3, insisted that, "God is not a person. He's a turtle... and a scientist."

Seems to be some sort of pattern going on with him. LOL!

My Perfect Child

A few days ago, the Little Girl and I were in a store when she spied a Hello Kitty Jelly Belly candy dish.

Actually, I think I need to back this story up. My daughter LOVES to shop. She's only three, but she approaches the activity with the dedication and perseverance of an Olympic athlete. If I want her to jump up and get ready in the morning, all I have to do is mention that "We're going to the store." It doesn't matter what store, and she wants EVERYTHING. My husband thinks I spoil her and cave to her every desire when we come home with some small trinket, but he has no idea how many gazillion requests I may have actually turned down during the same trip.

A few weeks ago, I got her a small purse and wallet, and I'm starting her on a tiny allowance so that she can learn how to spend and save her own money. Now when we go to the store and she asks for some tchotchke, I simply reply, "Do you have money for it?" This strategy worked with my oldest child when he was the same age, so I've been hopeful that it will take with Princess, too.

So back to the Hello Kitty candy dish. She begged and pleaded and pleaded and begged. I told her she could buy it if she had money, but it was $10, and she only had $2 left this month. Sorrowfully, she left it on the shelf.

http://www.amazon.com/Jelly-Belly-Hello-Kitty-Bean-shaped/dp/B00FFGQ10M/ref=sr_1_11?ie=UTF8&qid=1383050160&sr=8-11&keywords=hello+kitty+jelly+belly

As we were paying, wouldn't you know it, but there was another candy dish just like it at the register. I noticed her eyeing it, but I was busy chit chatting with the cashier. It wasn't until we left the store and my darling announced, "Mommy! I have jelly beans in my bag," (as if they had simply jumped in there) that I realized I had a budding kleptomaniac on my hands. Sure enough, a search of her bag revealed a stolen Hello Kitty candy dish.

After explaining how wrong it was to steal, I marched her back inside to return the item and apologize to the cashier. Poor thing. I could tell she was a bit scared and ashamed as she whispered, "I'm sorry for taking this," to the cashier.

The cashier and her supervisor are both Indians from the old country, and in true Auntie fashion, they both started wagging their heads somberly and clucking at my criminal child. "Oh, no. Stealing is very, very, very wrong. This is very, very serious. You should not take things that are not yours." Even another elderly shopper at the register got in on the action. "No, no, little girl, you must never, ever steal. That is not a good thing to do!"

The ladies were awesome doing me a favor and backing me up with their sober faces and gentle admonishments. Inside, I was cracking up until I saw Baby Girl's face. She looked so miserable and ashamed. Huge guilty tears were welling up, and her little bottom lip was quivering repentantly. I decided she'd learned her lesson and we could all relent, so I ended her lecture with, "I know you're very sorry, and you'll never do it again. Right?" "Yes," nodded her tiny sensitive head. After we walked out of the store for the second time, she broke out into a full wail and wouldn't let go of me for the next half hour.

Later that evening, I recounted the event to my DH, and we thought were going die laughing. There is something so precious about this age. I melt over these little hearts that are quick to repent, that hold nothing against you for disciplining them, that want you to comfort them afterward, that want to be kissed and held. How could anyone not love them? They're perfect.

*****

Then Jesus called a little child to Him, set him in the midst of them, and said, “Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven.  -- Matthew 18:2-3

What Do I Really Want?

Nearby, there's a small farm with a petting zoo that we like to visit. No matter how often we go, there is always something new to see. Last week, it was a pregnant goat that had escaped her pen.

Attracted by my daughter's cup of feed, she head-butted the bottom rail of her fence until she broke out. At that point, she followed my little goatherd everywhere, led by the promise of grain in a plastic cup.

We were delighted, of course, by the goat's interest. However, I also found it very odd that she should want that feed so much. Now that she was out of her pen, she was surrounded by the most succulent greens like clover, dandelions, and plantains. By comparison, the grain seemed so unappetizing. I felt a bit sorry for her -- I mean, it seemed terribly sad to be so conditioned to having those dry, dusty pellets that she couldn't recognize a far better option when it was presented.

But the goats, it seems, are not the only creatures on the farm that don't know what they really want.

Whenever we visit the farm, I also get a kick out of observing the "city folk." I admire them for wanting to expose their children to the joys of non-human creatures, but at the same time, their reactions to the farm and its livestock sometimes make me laugh. (Sorry if that seems condescending. I don't mean to be snobby, but I can't help but be tickled. After all, if I may quote Mr. Bennet from Pride and Prejudice, "for what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?'')

On another recent visit, I watched one such carload of people unload just as we were leaving the farm. Their teenaged son raced toward a fence and began yelling. "Hey, I want a horse! Are you gonna buy me a horse?" When his mother (I assume) replied in the negative, he started whining, "How come? If dad were here, he would get one for me. Dad gets me anything I want!"

This sort of badgering continued for a couple of minutes when suddenly the boy's attention was distracted. He exclaimed, "Oooh! That's the one! That's the horse I want!"

I glanced toward where his outstretched arm was pointing -- at a llama. At that point, I ducked quickly into the car. After all, it seemed rude to laugh so loudly out in the open.

But these incidents have me thinking. I know what I want, but do I know what I really want? Sometimes, I'm not so sure, but I'm glad there is a Good Shepherd who knows what's best.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness For His name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; My cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me All the days of my life; And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.  

Psalm 23

Everything's Going to Be Alright

About 10 days ago, I said something I really shouldn't have. I was tired and weak, and it just slipped out. Immediately, I asked for forgiveness, but I agonized and beat myself up over it for about a week. I wallowed in guilt.

Ok, switch gears.

Friday evening, my older son was messing about in the bathroom and got water everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Of course we made him clean it up, and we figured that was the end of it. Unfortunately, that wasn't the end. Saturday morning, my husband discovered that water from the bathroom had seeped down into a little used storage room in the basement. So we hurriedly began pulling everything out and cleaning up that stinky little pond.

Well, while we were busy, the boys (8 and 4) were "helping" me by vacuuming the fish tank. When I walked in the room, there was a lake of water on the floor. From what I can piece together, during the younger one's turn, the hose that drains the dirty water into a bucket had escaped its confines and was draining onto the floor. I quickly passed the little one some towels, and we got that cleaned up, too.

Then I went into the kitchen where a new surprise awaited me. The older boy had decided to make some refreshing lemonade for us all. He even tossed out the spent lemons and refilled the sugar bowl when he was done. However, in the process of prepping and "cleaning" up, the entire floor got a layer of sugar.

Surprisingly, I didn't even have an urge to shriek. I suppose 8 years of motherhood have beaten me into resignation. That's when I felt God quietly speaking to my heart.

God: What a mess, huh?
Me: Oh, yeah, you ain't kidding!
God: Are you mad?
Me (thinking about it): No, not really.
God: Why not?
Me: Their hearts were in the right place, but they're kids. They make mistakes. Besides, they just don't have the physical coordination for some things. They can't help it.
God: Do you love them any less?
Me: Of course not! They're my children!
God: So what are you going to do now?
Me: I guess I'm going to clean this mess up.
God: You know, you're my child, and I feel the same way about you. I don't love you any less when you make mistakes, and I'm there to clean it up for you.

So that was it. That whole week of guilt was a waste. But it was over.

Learning to see myself the way that God sees me has been very liberating. It means that I'm free to mess up. I'm not talking about "greasy grace" or anything, but in the course of the day, if I happen to fall flat on my face because I'm a kid, that's ok. I know I can cry for help, and my Heavenly Father will be there to pick me up, dust me off, and give me a kiss.

Romans 8:31-39