The Second Coming

For the past six years, our second child has provided us with a wealth of material, much of which I have written about in previous posts. But now the baton has been passed down, and a new protagonist (or antagonist, depending on your point of view) has emerged.

Recently, our family went to Ikea for yet another home improvement project. We usually put our kids in the playroom childcare, but since this was a quick purchase, we opted to rush through the store with them. Now the smart (or evil, depending on your point of view) people of Ikea designed the store so that you are forced to go through every section to get to the exit/check out. Inevitably, we passed by a bin of stuffed animals, and before I could even blink, my daughter Selah had planted herself firmly in front of it. As I stood next to her, I began to mentally prepare myself for whatever tool of manipulation she would pull from her arsenal. Would she scream and throw herself on the ground to shame me into submission? Would she pout and cry silently to pull on my heart strings? Would she remain frozen and immovable until my desire to leave Ikea would force me to give her what she wanted? But like any formidable (or scary, depending on your point of view) opponent, she came at me with a surprise attack. She decided to implement her daddy’s technique of calmly debating using logical reasoning and presentation of facts to support her view. Our interaction went like this:

Selah, you do not need another stuffed animal.
But I want it.
Need is different than want. Besides, you have so many stuffed animals at home.
I don’t have a lot.
Yes you do! You have a teddy bear, a bunny, a panda bear, a hippo, a duck, a bird, a seal, an alligator…..
But I don’t have a lion.
Yes you do! You have a big lion in your toy box! (felt triumphant here)
But I don’t have a SMALL lion.
Well….um……but……(felt deflated here and decided that 49 cents was not worth all this drama anyway)…….fine, you can have the lion.
But I also don’t have an elephant.

Sigh…..I fear for the teenage years.

Homage to Gabriel

Gabriel has been such a funny, laid back, jovial addition to our family. He is the kid that is happy playing with a blade of grass just as much as a new transformer. He is the kid who is so content snuggling, that a few times I have called out, “where is Gabriel” only to discover that he has been sitting on my lap (it’s like he melts into you and doesn’t move!).

He is the kid who loves and worships his brothers, even when they are undeserving of it. Many mornings, I discover him lying in front of his brother’s room (the older two share) waiting for one of them to wake up and come out. Many times when the brothers are playing, I’ll hear Gabriel screaming like his heart is being ripped from his chest, “I’m your friend Nathanael! Say I’m your friend! I’m on your team Simmy! Say I’m on your team!” 

He is the kid that rebounds quickly from disappointment. For example, he wanted to dress up like a transformer, but had to wear the hand me down lion costume this past october. After a moment of sadness, he put on the costume and burst out into a huge smile and said, “cool, I get to be a lion.” 

He is the kid that in a race, will not be the fastest or the most ambitious, but the one laughing his way to the end. Actually, what am I saying. He won’t be racing. He’ll be sitting on the sidelines laughing on one of our laps.

Homage to Simeon

In light of Simeon’s sixth birthday, I am bringing out one of the best Simmy stories thus far in his short life. Many of you have heard this before, so hopefully by officially publishing it I will no longer have to keep retelling this tale.  :)

Last year, Simeon went through a stage of the “sticky fingers.” It all began when I came downstairs one morning and he came running out of John’s office to greet me. He had brown stuff all over his mouth and cheeks and fingers, and he asked me, “Do I have brown stuff on my face?” I said yes and immediately tore into him about what that brown stuff was. When he wouldn’t give me a straight answer, I ran to the office and saw in the garbage all these chocolate wrappers. Now, our kids are not allowed to eat chocolate at home, and that was a clear violation of our rules. More importantly though, I was upset that he would take something without asking, and then try to cover up for it. So I spent a good portion of the morning explaining to him that when he takes things that belong to other people without asking, then that is stealing. But considering it was mommy’s stash, and it was in our home, I didn’t take it too seriously since the temptation of an open bag of chocolates would overcome many five year olds.

A few days later, I pull into his school to pick him up and the teacher hands me some dollar bills. She said she caught him distributing money to the other kids and thought I would like it back. I gave her a fake smile and as soon as we pulled out of the driveway, I tore into Simeon demanding to know where he got this money. After much hemming and hawing, he admitted that he took it from John’s office (hmmm…maybe we should stop putting things in there). Again, I spent a good portion of the afternoon explaining that when he takes things that belong to other people without asking, that is stealing. Considering this was from Daddy’s stash, and it was in our home again, I still didn’t take it too seriously since the temptation of a pile of dollar bills would overcome many five year olds.

A few days later, the boys were playing downstairs after school when my oldest comes running up to tell me that Simeon was wetting some sponges. Now considering that I am too OCD to let my kids play with anything messy, I knew something was very wrong since there should be no sponge for Simeon to wet. I run downstairs and discover that Simeon has a death grip on something, something that was dripping water down his arm onto the carpet. After prying his hand open, I discover three purple sponges that were in the shape of little cubes. Having been a montessori mom for a few years, I immediately recognized the sponges as part of the table work that they do. I tore into Simeon demanding to know how he got the sponges, and finally he burst into tears and confessed that he took it from school. To quote him exactly, he said, “I took them because they were so beautiful!”  Obviously, this time there was more than a firm discussion on the matter. There were serious consequences that were doled out, culminating in him having to go to school the next day and confess his actions to his teacher and return the “beautiful” sponges. It was quite humbling and emotional for Simeon to have to tell his beloved teacher what he did, so I thought surely this would be the end of such antics. And it was….for a week.

The following week, I was looking through his backpack and discovered three clay model cars. I tore into Simeon (I know…I tear into Simeon quite a lot in this story), demanding to know why he had these cars. He told me that his teacher gave it to him, one for each brother, because they were leftover from their transportation unit. I didn’t really buy it, but since the next day was parent teacher conferences, I said I would ask his teacher about it. Simeon calmly replied that I could ask her. The next day, I was finishing up his wonderful conference where his teacher was raving about him. To quote her directly, she called him “a delight, a model student, and wished she could clone him.”  Feeling pretty darn good about my mothering, I got up to leave when I remembered about the cars.  So I asked her if she had given those cars to him. She replied no, but maybe his afternoon teacher did. So I went out into the hall where Simeon was waiting, and immediately he burst into tears. He confessed how his teacher did not give him those cars, and that he took them. After making him return the cars and apologize again, we came home and John and I decided we needed to take some drastic measures.

After firmly explaining how he was once again stealing, we told him that people who steal go to jail. I said, “Do you want to go to jail. I should call the police right now and report what you have done.” Without missing a beat, John shouts, “call 911, call 911, call 911.” Meanwhile, Simeon is screaming, “Don’t call the police. I don’t want to go to jail. Don’t call 911. I won’t steal anymore!” How we didn’t burst out laughing at the lunacy of this whole exchange, I don’t know. But I am happy to say that there have been no more sticky finger incidents.

All this to say, happy birthday Simeon. You give me such good material. We love you funny boy!  :)

One of my least favorite parts of motherhood

As I attempted to potty train Selah this week, it struck me how each of my four children reacted so differently and uniquely to this task. Nathanael was compliant and diligent, and quickly got the hang of it. I just had to whip out a chart and the joy of seeing his chart fill up with stickers was enough motivation for him. Simeon would be so busy playing that he wouldn’t care if he let loose his bodily excretions all over himself, the floor, the carpet, the sofa, the chair, etc. One time, I came downstairs to discover a pile of poo on the carpet and him playing contentedly near it. Yet, in spite of it all, I got him trained by using his love of play by promising a brand new toy. Gabriel had absolutely no interest in potty training until I whipped out his drug of choice….the fruit snack. With one magic wave of the fruit snack bag, his brain turned on and he was motivated to have that luscious lump of sugary gelatin in his mouth, and I had another Lee child successfully out of diapers.

Which leads me to Selah. Even before this week began, John gave me a look and stated quite clearly that I was in for a world of hurt. He told me that Selah would potty train when Selah decided she was good and ready. That made my fiery side erupt as I emphatically stated that she would potty train when I said so! I’m the mother after all! I’m the grown up! I carried her for nine months, endured pain beyond description to deliver her, nursed her from my own body so she could be the vivacious toddler she is today! She owes me this. Plus I have conquered her three brothers before, so I have experience on my side. So I gathered all my materials…potty books, fruit snacks, magnet chart, cute dora underwear, princess pull ups, potty seat for the toilet, potty seat for the floor….everything from my arsenal. I even whipped out the promise that if she could get out of diapers, a brand new baby doll would be in her future.

Well, after a completely unsuccessful, accident laden week, I feel I must admit defeat for now. Yesterday, after one of her accidents, she brought me her diaper and said, “wear this mommy.”  Round one goes to Selah.

From 1991 and counting….

I first met John when I was a fresh faced 16 year old freshman at U of I (how I ended up being a 16 year old college freshman is a whole different rant), and he was a strange 18 year old freshman who seemed proudest of the fact that he could go to unhuman lengths without showering or changing his clothes. That was the first birthday we celebrated together. If I recall, I sent him a card that said something like, “Happy Birthday John. I know we don’t know each other well, but any friend of Jesus is a friend of mine!” Yeah, I know. But before you judge me, remember I was 16 and I had just become a christian, so I think I get a pass for saying things like that.  

We’ve celebrated many birthdays since that first one. One of the most memorable ones was our junior year. He was about to take me out for my birthday dinner when the atm machine ate up his one and only credit card, leaving him with no card and no cash. I had no credit card and only $2 and some change on me. So we celebrated that year at taco bell…with me paying….and us eating one taco each.

We’ve given each other many gifts over the years as well. One of the most meaningful gifts he got me was a fleece pullover. I had just complained about how cold I always felt in my classroom and needed something warm to wear while teaching. Now you have to understand.  John detests shopping.  He will walk into a clothing store and get this look…probably the same look that I get when I walk into home depot and best buy. His eyes get all glazed over and lifeless. It’s like his soul has been sucked out by the bright lights and mannequins and estrogen floating in the air. So the fact that he would willingly place himself in such an environment, agonizing over what style and color to get, is quite impressive (and humorous).  

So, although the thought of getting older isn’t always fun, I’m thankful and blessed to be able to do that with John.  Here is hoping for many more birthday memories to come.  Your family loves you and wishes you the best day ever!

They say every family has at least one….

From the moment he was born, our second son has been quite a character. He’s the kid who will walk into a room and introduce himself to everyone around him. He’s the kid who when his grandfather asked him for a french fry, very carefully picked out the one that was small and dried up to give to him. He’s the kid that when you ask him his favorite characters, he will rattle off swiper from Dora (who steals), chick from cars (who cheats), megatron from transformers (leader of the bad guys), spud from bob the builder (who is a misfit), and darth vader (just based on a poster he saw). He’s the kid that just yesterday went up to a rather overweight gentlemen coming out of the library and said, “you must have eaten a lot for dinner today.” Yeah, I just about wanted to crawl in a hole and die. 

Anyhow, it’s a difficult thing to train a child in the right ways without breaking his God given personality and spirit. I love the fact that he isn’t afraid to ask questions, or answer questions. I love the fact that he enjoys being around people. I love the fact that he feels things passionately and deeply. I love the fact that he doesn’t hug often, but when he does, it is with intensity and sincerity. I want him to retain these things about himself, but just channel it into the right direction.

A few weeks ago, we bought him his favorite transformer, megatron. That night in his bedtime prayer, he prayed, “God, thank you for whatever made mommy decide to buy megatron. Help her to want to buy more.”  Never a dull moment.  :P