The Faith of a Child

Today was a dreary day - cold, damp, and gray. Not that it stopped my children from wanting to play outside. Jake got a mop and decided to 'sweep' the water off the yard and sidewalk. Natalie joined him initially, then decided to sit with me on the porch away from the drizzle (smart girl, that daughter of mine). As Jake was mopping, he looked up at the sky and said, "Hmm, I think a big storm is coming." I answered him, "Oh, really?" "Yes," he replied. "Mommy, Jesus is going to turn on the thunder and it will go BOOM BOOM!"


Basic science to a four year old I guess! Or it something more? That innocent comment reminded me of a time several months ago when we were having a huge thunderstorm. Nick was working late, and the kids and I huddled together in Jake's bed waiting for it to pass. Natalie was particularly scared - she doesn't like 'shunder.' I tried to comfort her and explain that storms are loud and scary but they eventually go away. My words made little difference. Then Jake spoke up.
"Nawie, it's okay. Jesus will take care of us. " As I followed his lead and began relating the story of Jesus calming the storm for his disciples, my heart swelled with pride. Not pride in myself, but pride in the fact that my young son was already beginning to grasp the depth of God's love and concern for His children. Jake wasn't scared. And why should he be?


Why should any of us be? I worry excessively over many things, and all that anxiety is just wasted energy. I pray that my faith will become more like a child, more like my four year old who knows that Jesus controls the thunder and all the storms that come our way. There is a song I like that says, "sometimes He calms the storm, and other times He calms His child."


God is in control . Jake truly grasps this. I hope one day I will too.

No fair!

Jake has picked up a frustrating habit as of late. If something isn't to his liking, he will respond with "no fair!" Now, sometimes life isn't fair(all of us adults know that for a fact) but he will use it in situations like this:

Me:"Jake, time to put on your shoes."
Jake: "No fair!"

Natalie:"Jakey, tum on, les go!"
Jake: "No fair!"

I grew irritated one day after hearing this for the millionth time, and finally told him he wasn't allowed to say it unless he used it properly. He didn't quite grasp this, so I waited until he said it again.

Me: "Jake, we are going to take a bath in about 5 minutes."
Jake: (You guessed it!) "No fair!"
Me: "Remember, I told you to only use those words in the appropriate context. There is nothing fair or not fair about bathing."
Jake: "Oh. So when can I say it?"

I would like to report that I used this opportunity as a beautiful teaching moment with my son. I'd like to say that I sat him down and gently explained the proper usage of the term 'no fair.'
But it was late and I was tired, so I said the first thing that popped into my head. "Genocide in Darfur. THAT's not fair."
Poor Jake looked terribly confused. Then he said softly, "What's 'cide, Mommy?"
"Oh gosh, " I thought to myself. "What have I done?"
"Um, don't worry about it honey," I told him.

Thankfully he didn't ask anything else. I still wish I had responded in a more appropriate way for a four year old. But you know what? I haven't heard "no fair" since!

Weekend Entertainment

I'm very blessed to have a husband who wakes up with the kids on weekends so that mommy can get some extra sleep. (Anyone who knows me is aware that I NEVER turn down a chance to sleep!) One of the best parts of these weekend siestas is a chance to overhear Jake and Natalie interacting with their daddy. For example, here is a conversation from a recent Saturday morning. Allow me to set the scene...


Nick has just brought the kids downstairs and is getting ready to help them get dressed. I hear Nick say, "Come here Nat, let's get your clothes on."


Jake: "No, Daddy, do me first!"

Natalie: "No Jakey, Daddy do ME!"

Nick: "Jake, wait just a minute while I get Natalie dressed."

Jake: "But I have POOP!" (yes he is potty trained, but he still needs a pull-up at night)

Nick: "Umm..."

Jake: "Mommy says whoever has poop gets changed first."

Nick: "Well, okay then. Jake, come here and I'll help you get changed."

Jake: "See Nawie, I get to go first because I have poop!


He may as well have added a big "HA!" at the end of that sentence, because he sounded so dang proud of himself. Like having excrement in your pants is this really great thing. Silly boy!

Just yesterday he was telling Nick about the substitute teacher in his preschool class.

Jake: "Daddy, Mrs. Russell isn't in my class anymore. Now we have Ms. Waura"(Laura, for the preschool-language challenged).
Nick: "Oh, is she nice?"
Jake: "Yes. She's much bigger."
Nick: "Really?" (stifling a laugh)
Jake: " Uh-huh. She's as big as the clouds!"

While I appreciate Jake's astute observations, this is NOT one I will be sharing with his preschool teachers!

Let me just end by saying thank you to Nick for allowing me my lazy weekend indulgence. Hey, he has golf, and I have my cozy bed. Works for me!:)

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Sixty years ago today, this world became a bit brighter. A sweet, gentle soul was born in a rural NC town, and her memory still touches those who were lucky enough to know her. She was beautiful, humble, kind, patient, and loving. Most people called her Jennifer, but I had a special privilege. I had the honor of calling her Mom.

I know lots of people might say they have the best mom in the world, but I really mean it. My mom was incredibly special. She was SO kindhearted and loving; she had a way of making everyone feel special and valued. During childhood and adolescence, when so many of my peers would complain about their parents, I was always content to be home with mine. When I entered high school my dad began traveling more for business and my brother went off to college, so Mom and I got to spend lots of time alone together. I'm so grateful for that - we loved going to movies, out to eat, and shopping. We went to Pizza Hut so much that we began referring to it as "our place." "So," Mom would say on a Saturday morning, "how about we run to the mall and then eat at our place?" I loved that I could talk to her about anything, whether it was boys, religion, sex, friendships - whatever I had on my heart, she was interested in. Even when things got tough, she was someone I could count on 100%. For example, when I was around 17 years old I began suffering from terrible anxiety attacks. This led to bouts of terrible depression and confusion for me. I know how draining it must have been to live with me at that point and I'm sure that Mom vented to others in private, but around me she was always patient and understanding no matter how irrational I was. I'll never forget the time we went to Disney together and stopped somewhere in Magic Kingdom for lunch. I ordered chicken fingers for lunch and when we sat down I burst into tears. She asked me what was wrong and I sobbed that I had ordered the wrong thing and I wanted something else. Now, most of us might expect that from a 4 year old, but I was 19 at the time! Yet my mom, knowing the struggle I was having with my anxiety at that time in my life didn't lecture me or act embarrassed at the scene I was creating. Instead, she looked at me with compassion and said softly, "I'm sorry things are so hard for you right now." And she let me cry. I felt so safe and loved at that moment, and it is a memory that I carry with me to this day. It is a perfect example of the kind of mom she was. I aspire to be like her as a mother to my own children. I hope Jake and Natalie feel the same love and acceptance from me no matter what they face in this life.

Just as the world brightened when she entered it 60 years ago, it darkened 47 years later. In 1996, my mom began experiencing speech problems, confusion, headaches, and loss of coordination. In May of that year they found multiple lesions on her brain and she was admitted to the hospital for further testing. I remember coming home from the hospital one day around lunchtime with Geoffrey and Heather for a quick lunch break. "How about Pizza Hut?" they suggested. I began to cry. "But that's Mom's and my place," I said sadly.
"Well, we can still go there today," Geoffrey said. " Besides, you'll go there with Mom again."
Even though we weren't sure what was wrong with our mom at that point, a very eerie feeling settled over me. "No I won't," I thought sadly. I just had a feeling that Mom and I would never go to "our place" again. Unfortunately, I was right. Shortly afterwards, she was diagnosed with Glioblastoma Multiforme, a horrible form of primary brain cancer. Her tumors were inoperable.
On August 7th, 1996, she died.

It's been a little over 12 years and I still miss her so much. Things get easier with time, but there is so much I want to say to her, so much I want to ask her now that I am a mother myself. I would love to feel her warm hugs, hear her sweet, calming voice, and smell her incredible smell. She never needed perfume; she just had this naturally sweet scent. (In fact, I saved some of her clothing because for the longest time it still smelled like her.) I would give anything for my children to know their Grandma Jennifer. I really wish she was here to celebrate her 60th birthday with us today. But instead, I will settle for what has been my tradition since she died. This weekend, Nick and I will take Jake and Natalie to Pizza Hut, the very same one that my mom and I used to go to. (We usually do it on her actual birthday but Nick had to work). We will eat, laugh, and remember my wonderful mother.

I love you Mom. Happy birthday! I bet the birthday cake tastes awesome in heaven.

Jake Demands A Recount

Yesterday I took Jake to a friend's house for a playdate, and on the way over we discussed the election. Here's how the conversation went:

Jake: "Will Mr. Kyle be at Charlotte's house?"

Me: "No sweetie, he is going to vote after he gets off of work."

Jake: "Why is he going to vote?"

Me: "Well, voting is a privilege we have in our country. We get to choose who we want our next president to be."

Jake: "Oh."

I paused for a moment, then asked him, "Jake, who do you want to be president?" I was interested in what his uncoached response would be. He's certainly heard political talk and CNN is on a lot at our house, so I wanted to know which political figure had caught his four year old attention.

Without missing a beat, Jake said, "I want Nawwie!" (that is how he says Natalie's name.)

Hmm, Natalie for president. What do you think? Would you trust this face with our country?

I can see it now. Here she is chillin' in her Oval Office.

Her first act as Commander-in-Chief would probably be to require all meals to begin with an Oreo cookie, and to end with ice cream. Protein and vegetables in between would be optional. Unless you count french fries as a vegetable.

So while the rest of the country celebrates this historic election, Jake's a bit bummed his candidate didn't win. But he shouldn't worry - I'm not counting Natalie out in 2040!