prayers and Diego

Miller's lunchtime prayer today: "We pray for this day. We thank you for this food that you made for us. We eat food and we like food. but we like you more than we like food. We just like you more than we like you. Amen."

At every meal, every time someone asks God's blessing on our food, Robert can be heard chomping away in the background. At the end of every prayer, he says, "I was chewing." If he's the one saying the prayer, he takes breaks to chew. I want to teach him reverence, but I don't really think God cares if he's chewing. Also, I think he may be doing it just to get under my skin, the same way he goes #2 in his britches to get under my skin, laughs at me, then says, "I'm laughing at you, mommy."

I love the show Go Diego Go! It's Robert's favorite, and every morning, the moment they wake up, my kids begin the day with: Can I pick a show? Can I pick first??? Robert would pick Diego 100% of the time, while Mills is partial to My Friends Tigger and Pooh. There was a time when I didn't let my kids start the day watching television, but...ummm...that time is no more. Anyway, I love Diego. It's simple and straightforward. There are no lessons in morality that I may or may not agree with, just straight-up animal facts. Best of all, it leads to conversations like these:

R: Did you know there are sweet spiders?
L: No.
R: And MEAN spiders.
L: Huh.
M: I wish I could live in the rain forest.
L: I bet you would see lots of interesting animals.
M: Yeah like sloths.
L: Uh-huh.
M: And pygmy marmosets and stuff.

The above pic is of Miller's most anticipated moment since she heard she was having a sister: She got to hold Margaret, all by herself, standing up (just for a second). It was as wonderful as she had imagined it would be. Also posting a pic of the most rockin' bald spot in the history of babies' heads.

Egg Sandwiches

As Miller's carefully constructed egg sandwich was falling apart this morning, and I was reminding her that egg sandwiches always seem to fall apart, she was inspired to think of what things will be like at the end of history when all things on earth are redeemed and made new:

M: I bet egg sandwiches won't fall apart in heaven.
And I bet Robert won't ever have to go on yellow.
And there will be no sicknesses. And no throw-up-ing.

Robert also gave me a little more insight into his poopy pull-up from last night.
WARNING: STOP READING IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, OR IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW THE FULL TRUTH ABOUT THE INCLINATIONS OF LITTLE BOYS!!!

R: Last night, I didn't know poo poo was going to come out. It came out in pieces. And I tried to push it back up, but I cou-int.

Nice....

Share! Dadgummit!

I often get frustrated with my kids because they're not good at sharing. Has Robert found a great toy to play with? Hey! Miller wanted it too! At the exact same moment! Has Miller found a stick in the yard, or a piece of a broken plastic shovel, or an acorn? Darn it! Robert wanted that stick! He wanted that piece of plastic! Miller, will you give Robert a turn with that stick? NO!!!! Even when one remembers to ask nicely (M: "R, please can I see that stick?"), the other almost always responds with an adamant "NO!" I couldn't possibly count the number of times these scenarios occur each HOUR at my house. And I don't understand them. I'm perplexed. I'm thinking, and sometimes, (regrettably) saying - Who cares about that silly stick? Why do you even want that stick? I act like I can't even imagine that kind of greed and selfishness. Who am I kidding?

Last week I ate a pack of peanut butter crackers in the shower. IN THE SHOWER. Why? I didn't want to share them with my kids. I love to eat packages of Toasty peanut butter crackers. I could eat a pack for each of my three meals. I love to eat all six crackers, and if they came in packages of 10, I could eat all 10. My kids love them, too, and every time I open a pack, they come running up, "Can I have a cracker? Can I have another one?" Sometime I only get to eat one or two. If one could see into my heart at these moments, and see how hard it is for me to share my crackers.... The other day, I lost my cool. It's hard to tell these stories, (though, don't think for a minute that I put my worst stories on this blog!) but this is what went down. Robert came running up and asked for a cracker, and I said something like: NO!! Why are you always trying to get my crackers??!! I'm hungry!! I never get enough of my crackers!! Get away!! Robert replied, "God wants us to share." "CRAP! Who taught you that??" Just kidding. That wasn't my actual response. I did end up sharing, but I snuck a pack into the shower a little while later.

It was a humbling moment, and I was thinking - Sharing IS hard, when you value the thing you're being asked to share. And though I don't value an acorn, Robert and Miller truly might. So from now on, I know I'll be perfectly patient all the time when they don't share. =) I once heard someone say that insight doesn't lead to change. How true! How true in my life.

Here's a picture of what I ate in the shower today. No one was here to take my Frosted Flakes, but I needed to take a shower and I needed to eat, and I only had twenty minutes. This pic illustrates the total lack of discretionary time in my life these days. Notice the dirty tub. Notice the bath toys that have not been picked up. I'm operating at maximum capacity, and it's not pretty, and it's hard. It's hard to let go of my house being clean, or at least picked up, of wearing mascara, of having clothes folded and beds made, of talking to friends, of going to the bathroom alone...Just kidding! I've not gone to the bathroom alone in years. (I was also going to write - "of having wonderful, hot meals on the table" as a joke, but most who read this know I never cooked much in the first place =)) Life was already busy, but having a third has meant that some things are literally out the window. But please see above pics for the great rewards of my life who are infinitely better than a clean, calm house.

Speaking of not having a clean house, after being potty trained for many, many months, Robert has decided TO HECK with pooping on the potty. That little rascal is feeling free to do his business anywhere he pleases, and it bothers him not at all that mommy is losing her mind over it. Tonight while cleaning him up in the bathroom, his only response was to tell me:

"MOMMY. Don't say 'Dadgummit'. Say, 'This is ri-DIC-ulous.'"

Another area where I'm falling behind these days is teaching my kids ANYTHING. Miller is picking up my slack. The other day she pretended to read Robert the story of the good samaritan from a little picture book she made at school. When she finished, she tested him on the main points of the story.

M: Robert, do we hit?
R: No.
M: Do we push?
R: No.
M: Robert...do we..STOLE??
R: No.

I had parent-teacher conferences this week at school, and Robert's teachers asked me if he was willing to recite his memory verses for me at home. I don't know what I said, but I was thinking that I was only vaguely aware that he was learning memory verses, that I didn't know what they were, and that I had failed to ask him about them for months. (Being a straight-A type of girl myself, I didn't admit this to his teachers for fear of a bad grade in mommy-ing.) This afternoon when I DID ask him about it, he proudly said his verse: "CALL TO ME AND I WILL ANSWER YOU!!! Jeremiah Firty Free....Free!!!" (Jeremiah 33:3). He will, sweet Robert.