When I was in Bible college, I once met with one of our church leaders. In the middle of our meeting, after asking me a few random get-to-know-you questions, he looked at me and said,
"So, you're not one to push and shove your way to the front. You're content to wait in line for your portion. But -- sometimes that means you don't get what you want."
He pegged me so well that I think I only managed to pull myself together enough to nod. And then I listened very closely. Because I knew he was going to tell me the solution to this problem.
Except he didn't. And he didn't the rest of the meeting. And he never brought it up after that. And there have been times in my life that I wished he would.
I took the girls to a parade last week. In years past we've left with so much candy that I've learned to bring an ice cream bucket to collect it all. To kids, that's what a parade is: candy. And an occasional group playing music. But the music isn't fun or important enough to get them excited about going back.
I got mixed up trying to find the spot where we stood last year, and ended up in the worst area possible. I could tell even before the parade started that this was no good. But it was too late to find another place. So we stayed on a corner that a hundred other (older) kids shared.
For the first hour of the parade Natalie had three pieces of candy in her bucket. That's because one woman handed me a packet of gobstoppers before the parade even started (she was promoting Mothers Of Preschoolers), and another mom watched her two boys dive after a pile of candy and collect the whole thing. She made them both give Natalie a piece.
Elsie was much too hot and disturbed by sirens and crowds to do anything but beg me to hold her so she could bury her head in my shoulder. So the only help I could give to Natalie was to look a few floats down and give her a heads up when people might be throwing candy.
This is pretty much how our experience of the parade went this time: There were not as many people throwing candy as last year (I think we stood at the beginning of the parade last time, and in the middle this year, so maybe a lot of it was already gone). A lot of the people threw candy before us and then not again until after us. When people did throw candy our way, they sometimes threw it too close to the middle of the road. But even if they dropped it right in front of Natalie, it was gone before she could even bend over. Seriously, watching the other children was like watching the reverse effect of flipping on the light switch in a room full of cockroaches. About 5 people handed out frisbees to the four or five children in front of Natalie, then ignored her hand held out patiently, and then continued giving frisbees to the next three children after her. There was one nice man who saw she had nothing and purposefully dropped three pieces of candy directly into her bucket (thank you, Lord, for that man!), and one friendly girl who gave up her ice pop when the woman carrying ice pops got mobbed 10 feet ahead of us. But it was mostly disappointing, and Natalie almost cried more than once. And I was telling myself that I was taking them straight to Dairy Queen as soon as Natalie told me she was ready to leave.
It was one of those times when I wished I knew how to get what you want without being pushy or obnoxious.
So . . . anybody out there found the secret? To either getting what you want or, you know, ending hurt in the world in general?
Showing posts with label ?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ?. Show all posts
Monday, July 19, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
What I've been thinking about lately.
For starters, I am pregnant. I smiled as I typed that; it feels good to push that news out further than my family and hometown friends. I've wanted to post it on facebook, but things keep making me wait. And since I've gone so far to write that sentence, I might as well explain what those things were. Because of the title and all.
I always have an early ultrasound now, because of my past ectopic pregnancy. When the doctor had searched for only a few seconds, she said, "And it looks like there's two in there!" Sure enough, two beautiful, black circles were in the pictures we took home that day. She scheduled another ultrasound in three weeks, to get heartbeats and make sure everything was ok with the babies. For three weeks, Jason and I pictured our lives as parents of four, as a family of six. We thought about the extra baby equipment we would need, whether or not we'd get two boys to balance out the two girls we have, what it would be like to go places with two little babies, pictured each of us holding one in church. We weren't able to hold back our excitement, and told almost anyone with working ears. It was so hard to wait for that next ultrasound, so hard to wait to post those pictures on facebook for the whole world to see.
But the next ultrasound picture had one baby. The doctor said the other twin "absorbed." I'm sure that's supposed to be a less painful way to announce that kind of news.
And you know what? It's really hard to know the right way to grieve and celebrate all at the same time. It's hard to tell people here our sad news, and still tell others whom we haven't talked to recently our happy news. I really thought that maybe some time this week I would tell the cyber world that we're having a baby; that maybe that would help some of the excited feelings I wanted to express to get flowing. But one friend announced a pregnancy last week, and another this week. And . . . I don't know. I don't want this baby to seem like "another baby" to someone else. I want this baby to be special, to have it's own important announcement.
And so I wait. And I pray. And sometimes I cry. And I try to sort things out.
So as not to leave anyone feeling depressed, I'll share the other things on my full plate of everyday thoughts. Jason is in Israel for two weeks. He left yesterday. Two weeks, People! He's never been away that long. And after only one day of him being absent, Elsie has learned to say, "I want Daddy." Which would be sweeter to me if I didn't now have to explain X number of times per day for the next 13 days where he is. To a child not yet two.
Speaking of Elsie, we're potty training. We started last Monday, and had almost zero results for 3 days. I was not really expecting that. I mean, I was expecting her to fight me sometimes, but I wasn't expecting her to scream nearly every time we walked into the bathroom, or for her to knowingly "hold it" until a time when she wasn't on the toilet. By day four it was mildly better (only sometimes did she scream), and then she got sick. "Throwing down" kind of sick. Strangely enough, I think this has been a fortunate turn of events in the potty training scheme of things. We put her in diapers, but kept taking her to go potty, and she started having more hits than misses. Or at least, equal amounts of hits and misses. And I've noticed now that she doesn't cry when we go to the bathroom unless she is really not going to go anyway. AND -- sometimes . . . she comes up to me and whines, and when I ask her if she needs to go potty SHE SAYS YES. (Well, ok, she says, "yeah." She doesn't actually say "yes" yet.) And then she goes potty! It is truly amazing to me how I thought some of these things would seem routine or old hat with child number two, and they are so not. I am so stinking proud of Elsie sometimes that I think the zipper on my sweater is going to burst.
The last thing that I'll mention is that my kids are really cute. Tonight we were eating dinner. It was a lot quieter than normal -- in fact, there was almost no noise at all. Usually we're all vying for Jason's attention and conversation (because let's face it, the three of us have spent ALL day together and we have nothing new to say to each other by the end of the day). But the silence wasn't uncomfortable or boring. I just used it to stare at my girls. To marvel again at the grown up faces Elsie makes that look so ridiculous on so small a child that I laugh out loud. To look at Natalie one more time to make sure I'm not missing anything, because she's growing up so fast. To look at these beautiful faces that walk around my house everyday like they belong to ordinary people. And I'm so glad I'm their mommy.
My thoughts. Just in case you were wondering.
I always have an early ultrasound now, because of my past ectopic pregnancy. When the doctor had searched for only a few seconds, she said, "And it looks like there's two in there!" Sure enough, two beautiful, black circles were in the pictures we took home that day. She scheduled another ultrasound in three weeks, to get heartbeats and make sure everything was ok with the babies. For three weeks, Jason and I pictured our lives as parents of four, as a family of six. We thought about the extra baby equipment we would need, whether or not we'd get two boys to balance out the two girls we have, what it would be like to go places with two little babies, pictured each of us holding one in church. We weren't able to hold back our excitement, and told almost anyone with working ears. It was so hard to wait for that next ultrasound, so hard to wait to post those pictures on facebook for the whole world to see.
But the next ultrasound picture had one baby. The doctor said the other twin "absorbed." I'm sure that's supposed to be a less painful way to announce that kind of news.
And you know what? It's really hard to know the right way to grieve and celebrate all at the same time. It's hard to tell people here our sad news, and still tell others whom we haven't talked to recently our happy news. I really thought that maybe some time this week I would tell the cyber world that we're having a baby; that maybe that would help some of the excited feelings I wanted to express to get flowing. But one friend announced a pregnancy last week, and another this week. And . . . I don't know. I don't want this baby to seem like "another baby" to someone else. I want this baby to be special, to have it's own important announcement.
And so I wait. And I pray. And sometimes I cry. And I try to sort things out.
So as not to leave anyone feeling depressed, I'll share the other things on my full plate of everyday thoughts. Jason is in Israel for two weeks. He left yesterday. Two weeks, People! He's never been away that long. And after only one day of him being absent, Elsie has learned to say, "I want Daddy." Which would be sweeter to me if I didn't now have to explain X number of times per day for the next 13 days where he is. To a child not yet two.
Speaking of Elsie, we're potty training. We started last Monday, and had almost zero results for 3 days. I was not really expecting that. I mean, I was expecting her to fight me sometimes, but I wasn't expecting her to scream nearly every time we walked into the bathroom, or for her to knowingly "hold it" until a time when she wasn't on the toilet. By day four it was mildly better (only sometimes did she scream), and then she got sick. "Throwing down" kind of sick. Strangely enough, I think this has been a fortunate turn of events in the potty training scheme of things. We put her in diapers, but kept taking her to go potty, and she started having more hits than misses. Or at least, equal amounts of hits and misses. And I've noticed now that she doesn't cry when we go to the bathroom unless she is really not going to go anyway. AND -- sometimes . . . she comes up to me and whines, and when I ask her if she needs to go potty SHE SAYS YES. (Well, ok, she says, "yeah." She doesn't actually say "yes" yet.) And then she goes potty! It is truly amazing to me how I thought some of these things would seem routine or old hat with child number two, and they are so not. I am so stinking proud of Elsie sometimes that I think the zipper on my sweater is going to burst.
The last thing that I'll mention is that my kids are really cute. Tonight we were eating dinner. It was a lot quieter than normal -- in fact, there was almost no noise at all. Usually we're all vying for Jason's attention and conversation (because let's face it, the three of us have spent ALL day together and we have nothing new to say to each other by the end of the day). But the silence wasn't uncomfortable or boring. I just used it to stare at my girls. To marvel again at the grown up faces Elsie makes that look so ridiculous on so small a child that I laugh out loud. To look at Natalie one more time to make sure I'm not missing anything, because she's growing up so fast. To look at these beautiful faces that walk around my house everyday like they belong to ordinary people. And I'm so glad I'm their mommy.
My thoughts. Just in case you were wondering.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
If you are what you keep close...
On my nightstand there is:
- a picture of Jason and I at the altar on our wedding day, with my dad in the background (he had just given me away)
- my alarm clock
- a picture of my two sisters and me, taken about eight years ago
- a lamp
- a picture of my big sister and myself, taken about 26 years ago (Ruth, it's the one where I'm sticking my tongue out)
- whatever I'm currently reading (Destined to Reign, right now)
Occasionally there is a pen or two, some jewelry, and some hair ties, but the above items are consistent. The bottom shelf of my nightstand holds:
- two small packages of pictures, one of our vacation this summer, one of just the girls
- my Bible, notebook, and a copy of The Power of a Praying Wife
- a beautiful, leather bound book for writing my stories. Jason gave it to me.
- a notebook for writing cute little stories about the girls
- a notebook for writing . . . oh, mostly dreams I suppose, although some practical things go in there too. I don't know how to explain what this notebook is for, I only know when something does or does not belong in it. Actually, Jason gave me this one too, when we were courting.
- a pink notebook specifically for stories or articles. The first drafts. Only mostly perfected ones go in the leather bound book.
- a pen with my name engraved on the side (Jas got me this, too. Suddenly I'm thinking it's time for me to go buy him something...)
- a sudoku book
- the three stuffed animals Jason gave me when we were courting (two green bears and an elephant)
- a box full of index cards. At my baby shower for Elsie, my friends wrote encouraging words and tidbits of advice down for me. You don't even know how many times I've read through them.
And then UNDER my nightstand (because apparently I can't live without any of these things close at hand at all times) I have:
- Natalie's baby book and notes for all the things I'm going to put in Elsie's baby book
- a scrap book, and a pile of crayon drawings to put in it
- a tiny notebook that I used as for church notes and journaling in Bible College. I think I keep this one around because a.) it has extra pages, in case I need to make a list or something and just need a little piece of paper and b.) because it's my journal from Bible College! Ha! It's good to not be 18 again.
- two spiral notebooks that used to be Jason's, and that I've somehow (truly) by accident taken over. This is for rough drafts or stories that haven't shaped themselves as well as the ones that go in that pink notebook. I guess that one is more for second drafts...
I'm telling you all this because I was removing and replacing things on my nightstand to dust it the other day. I laughed at myself and thought, "What does all this stuff say about me?" That I still have pack rat tendencies? That I need to consolidate my notebooks? That this stuff has no other place to go?
And I was wondering if there are any souls out there brave enough to tell me: What is on your nightstand/bookshelf/floor by your bed?
- a picture of Jason and I at the altar on our wedding day, with my dad in the background (he had just given me away)
- my alarm clock
- a picture of my two sisters and me, taken about eight years ago
- a lamp
- a picture of my big sister and myself, taken about 26 years ago (Ruth, it's the one where I'm sticking my tongue out)
- whatever I'm currently reading (Destined to Reign, right now)
Occasionally there is a pen or two, some jewelry, and some hair ties, but the above items are consistent. The bottom shelf of my nightstand holds:
- two small packages of pictures, one of our vacation this summer, one of just the girls
- my Bible, notebook, and a copy of The Power of a Praying Wife
- a beautiful, leather bound book for writing my stories. Jason gave it to me.
- a notebook for writing cute little stories about the girls
- a notebook for writing . . . oh, mostly dreams I suppose, although some practical things go in there too. I don't know how to explain what this notebook is for, I only know when something does or does not belong in it. Actually, Jason gave me this one too, when we were courting.
- a pink notebook specifically for stories or articles. The first drafts. Only mostly perfected ones go in the leather bound book.
- a pen with my name engraved on the side (Jas got me this, too. Suddenly I'm thinking it's time for me to go buy him something...)
- a sudoku book
- the three stuffed animals Jason gave me when we were courting (two green bears and an elephant)
- a box full of index cards. At my baby shower for Elsie, my friends wrote encouraging words and tidbits of advice down for me. You don't even know how many times I've read through them.
And then UNDER my nightstand (because apparently I can't live without any of these things close at hand at all times) I have:
- Natalie's baby book and notes for all the things I'm going to put in Elsie's baby book
- a scrap book, and a pile of crayon drawings to put in it
- a tiny notebook that I used as for church notes and journaling in Bible College. I think I keep this one around because a.) it has extra pages, in case I need to make a list or something and just need a little piece of paper and b.) because it's my journal from Bible College! Ha! It's good to not be 18 again.
- two spiral notebooks that used to be Jason's, and that I've somehow (truly) by accident taken over. This is for rough drafts or stories that haven't shaped themselves as well as the ones that go in that pink notebook. I guess that one is more for second drafts...
I'm telling you all this because I was removing and replacing things on my nightstand to dust it the other day. I laughed at myself and thought, "What does all this stuff say about me?" That I still have pack rat tendencies? That I need to consolidate my notebooks? That this stuff has no other place to go?
And I was wondering if there are any souls out there brave enough to tell me: What is on your nightstand/bookshelf/floor by your bed?
Monday, September 21, 2009
Just thought I'd take a minute to say...
The likelyhood of my writing a "real" post this week will probably not happen. I try to post a least once a week, but, well, you see . . . we're moving tomorrow. Yep. Decided we were moving about . . . last Wednesday and we'll sleep there tomorrow night. Kinda crazy, I admit, but that's just sort of how the Benson family does these things!
Besides packing and unpacking this week, I will also be preparing a message to preach this Sunday. Not really sure how that one happened.
But my point is, I'll be a little busier than usual. Donations of prayer will be accepted. Or, as always, donations of money.
Thank you.
Besides packing and unpacking this week, I will also be preparing a message to preach this Sunday. Not really sure how that one happened.
But my point is, I'll be a little busier than usual. Donations of prayer will be accepted. Or, as always, donations of money.
Thank you.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Absence makes the heart grow fonder . . .
Dear me. It has been entirely too long since my last post. Life has been busy. I'm not even sure what we've been busy with anymore, but . . . does it really matter?
However, in the time that I've been absent, I've been thinking that I really wanted to share the events of one particular day. Natalie was really on it that day, as far as humor goes. All in one day:
-- She asked, "Mommy, if you ever can't take care of Elsie, can we take her to an orphanage?" She didn't ask it maliciously; she asked it like she would ask about going to daycare or preschool. Apparently, in my attempts to shield her from some harsher facts of life, I didn't make things quite clear when I explained to her why our friends were going to Africa to adopt their little boy.
I seriously didn't know what to say to her for a while, so I finally said, "No. We're never taking Elsie to an orphanage. She's part of our family. I'm never going to not be able to take care of her." (When she starts asking what an orphanage is like, Heidi, I'm sending her to you!)
--Jason called to say hi, and Natalie told him, "I haven't done anything wrong today."
-- Shortly after this, she started playing house. She was the dad, and I was the kid.
"Dad": I have to go to work, Kid.
"Kid": No, Daddy. Don't go to work. I don't want you to go to work.
"Dad": I know. But I have to. I'll come home soon.
"Kid": No, don't go!
"Dad": Kid, I have to. Or else I will lose my job and they will throw me in the fire.
She said this with the straightest, most serious face! Maybe we should explain the term "fired" to her. She's probably picturing a little Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednigo action going on!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
When things don't work quite right
Why is it that Jason's computer will save my settings or passwords when I ask it to but, despite the repeated requests I've made of my computer, I still have to sign in to EVERYTHING?
Why is it that Jason can instantly make computers work/cameras work/coffee grinders open when I've been trying the same things for 10 minute intervals all day long?
And did you know that if you're using T9 to text on your cell phone and you try to type "home" it will come up as "good?" Or if you try to say that you're dreaming of your husband's "kiss," it will tell him that you are dreaming of his "lips?" And if you punch in "mom" it will give you "non." If you get stubburn and type it again ("mommom") in a desperate attempt to make your phone get it right, it will give you "nonmom."
Because that's a word.
I'm just sayin'.
Why is it that Jason can instantly make computers work/cameras work/coffee grinders open when I've been trying the same things for 10 minute intervals all day long?
And did you know that if you're using T9 to text on your cell phone and you try to type "home" it will come up as "good?" Or if you try to say that you're dreaming of your husband's "kiss," it will tell him that you are dreaming of his "lips?" And if you punch in "mom" it will give you "non." If you get stubburn and type it again ("mommom") in a desperate attempt to make your phone get it right, it will give you "nonmom."
Because that's a word.
I'm just sayin'.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Cracks me up everytime I read it...
This post is from the blog of my cousin's wife. If you need a laugh, read on!
My thoughts 5 hours later...
I have the cutest kids in the whole world.
Wow, they really do talk to me c-o-n-s-t-a-n-t-l-y. I mean, that's OK, but WOW I have a bad, bad, bad headache right now.
Seriously, Rylan. Stop whining. I can't wait to put you down for a nap, sweet child.
I think I'll split the big boys up for the next couple of hours so they can't find anything else to argue over.
My thoughts at 7:00 this morning after not seeing my children for 4 days...
I have the cutest kids in the whole world.
How do I ever get irritated with them constantly talking to me? They have the sweetest little voices I've ever heard.
Well of course Rylan is whining and crying for an hour. The poor, sweet, helpless baby stubbed his toe. What else is he to do?
Isn't it fun to see the boys interacting? Sure, they get annoyed with each other but it's just because they love each other so much.
I have the cutest kids in the whole world.
How do I ever get irritated with them constantly talking to me? They have the sweetest little voices I've ever heard.
Well of course Rylan is whining and crying for an hour. The poor, sweet, helpless baby stubbed his toe. What else is he to do?
Isn't it fun to see the boys interacting? Sure, they get annoyed with each other but it's just because they love each other so much.
My thoughts 5 hours later...
I have the cutest kids in the whole world.
Wow, they really do talk to me c-o-n-s-t-a-n-t-l-y. I mean, that's OK, but WOW I have a bad, bad, bad headache right now.
Seriously, Rylan. Stop whining. I can't wait to put you down for a nap, sweet child.
I think I'll split the big boys up for the next couple of hours so they can't find anything else to argue over.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Two weighty situations.
Our family went on vacation this past weekend. I plan on another post this week full of pictures and funny things Natalie said. But I was hit twice with another train of thought, and I feel like I have to go there.
The first part of our vacation was spent with the girls, and while all four of us were in the car, I looked up to see a motorcycle in the opposite lane, on its side, spinning furiously. We were about three cars back from the accident that had just happened, but we could see people rushing out of their cars to the sight. Several (including us) whipped out cell phones and dialed 911. The two riders had landed partly in our lane, and we could see a woman administering CPR. I have to give credit to the police, who arrived quickly and directed traffic out of the area. As we passed I caught the face of the driver on the ground. It was the whitest white I've ever seen on a face.
For the next two days we followed news about the accident online. The motorcycle had hit a van pulling on to the street from a parking lot. The driver died the next day. The other rider, a boy, died the day after that. We had prayed for them, that God would grant mercy and another chance to know Him if they hadn't already made that decision.
For the second part of our vacation, we left the girls with some friends and headed out as a twosome. The next day at brunch, we got a call from a friend. She had our girls now, she explained. The brother of the mom we'd left the girls with was in a car accident, and passed away.
I don't know that I have any profound thoughts that would make this post any better. I guess I just wanted to share the obvious: that life is short and we should enjoy it. That we should take safety precautions. This weekend I was so thankful for any time I'd almost had a car accident, and didn't. So thankful for divine protection.
On the drive home, Jason and I listened to a podcast where a preacher mentioned "living in mystery." I'm glad I know the One who knows the answer to every question.
The first part of our vacation was spent with the girls, and while all four of us were in the car, I looked up to see a motorcycle in the opposite lane, on its side, spinning furiously. We were about three cars back from the accident that had just happened, but we could see people rushing out of their cars to the sight. Several (including us) whipped out cell phones and dialed 911. The two riders had landed partly in our lane, and we could see a woman administering CPR. I have to give credit to the police, who arrived quickly and directed traffic out of the area. As we passed I caught the face of the driver on the ground. It was the whitest white I've ever seen on a face.
For the next two days we followed news about the accident online. The motorcycle had hit a van pulling on to the street from a parking lot. The driver died the next day. The other rider, a boy, died the day after that. We had prayed for them, that God would grant mercy and another chance to know Him if they hadn't already made that decision.
For the second part of our vacation, we left the girls with some friends and headed out as a twosome. The next day at brunch, we got a call from a friend. She had our girls now, she explained. The brother of the mom we'd left the girls with was in a car accident, and passed away.
I don't know that I have any profound thoughts that would make this post any better. I guess I just wanted to share the obvious: that life is short and we should enjoy it. That we should take safety precautions. This weekend I was so thankful for any time I'd almost had a car accident, and didn't. So thankful for divine protection.
On the drive home, Jason and I listened to a podcast where a preacher mentioned "living in mystery." I'm glad I know the One who knows the answer to every question.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Experiencing technical difficulties.
Erg. I just published a new post, but it was from a draft I had saved before the post you see just below this one. So if you wouldn't mind looking below that post, you'll see what I had to say today. Thank you.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
I was expecting toothpaste.
In the last month, Natalie has:
-eaten a fifth of her tube of toothpaste
-tried our toothpaste
-eaten the remains of Elsie's bottle of teething tablets
-painted her toenails all by herself (only one drop spilled where it couldn't be cleaned -- it was red, however)
-spent naptime in our room and in her room pulling books and things off the bookshelves.
Actually, all of that took place within the course of one week. For some kids this might be the normal happenings. I spent much of Natalie's second year expecting this kind of thing, but she never really did it. After she turned three, I stopped worrying. And now, at three and a half, it has come. Even so, I wasn't prepared for last night.
Jason gets up for work at 3am now (yes, really), so our normal plan is to put the kids to bed at 8 and go to sleep ourselves. We stayed up a little later last night (we saw American Idol was on), but had the lights off at 9. Imagine my surprise at 10 when Natalie walked into our room and asked for a drink of water. After Jason and I fumbled around for a moment, I grabbed a mug on my nightstand and filled it with water in the bathroom. I tried to hand her the mug, but she said, "I can't hold it." A little frustrated, I said, "Natalie, hold the cup. I don't know how much you want to drink." She obediently took the cup and drank. Then I took her arm to lead her back to her room. I noticed her arm was sticky. Not a good sign.
"Why is your arm sticky?" I asked.
Natalie whimpered.
I stood in front of her and repeated the question sternly.
Same response.
I got down on my knees to look her in the face. Then the beam of the nightlight shone on her. I took a second look, then pulled her into the bathroom and turned on the light. Bright pink and black were streaked in a large circle around her face, and her arms were covered in the same pink, with blobs of it here and there.
"Why were you playing with my makeup?"
No answer.
I searched the counter for similar markings, but there weren't any. In fact, my makeup bag was no where in sight. I walked to the door of her room and realized her lamp was on. Elsie was still asleep. There, on a pink Dora toddler bed, was my makeup bag and remains of eyeshadow and blush. I stormed out and went straight to our room.
"What is it?" Jason said in a groggy voice.
I gave him the story.
No response. He was tired, and I guess makeup is my department anyway.
So, I started the clean up process. I was fully intending to give Natalie what she had coming to her as soon as she was clean, so I tried not to say to much until then. But when the moment came, I didn't want to do it. I'm not sure what happened. I wasn't angry anymore, but even when I was calm I knew she deserved some sort of punishment. She knows my makeup is off limits, she knows she can't turn her lamp on after we leave, she knows not to get out of bed and play. There were so many violations. Normally, I have no problem being a disciplinarian. I mean, I'm a stay at home mom, so how much does Natalie really get away with? It's not much. I wondered if I just felt like she needed mercy; I'd read something about that lately. I don't know if that was it or not. I explained the concept of mercy to Natalie; I mean, if I was going to give it to her then I was going to make a lesson out of it.
It's just that . . . I don't know, she's three. I could picture her putting on that lipstick and mascara, feeling grown-up and pretty. What a nice thing to feel, it's not so wrong.
I went back to bed and asked God again what was going on with her. If there was something that I'm missing. And the only thing I can think is, she's three. I think she's trying to figure out who she is and how independent she can be.
All I can say is Natalie, be nice to my grandbabies.
-eaten a fifth of her tube of toothpaste
-tried our toothpaste
-eaten the remains of Elsie's bottle of teething tablets
-painted her toenails all by herself (only one drop spilled where it couldn't be cleaned -- it was red, however)
-spent naptime in our room and in her room pulling books and things off the bookshelves.
Actually, all of that took place within the course of one week. For some kids this might be the normal happenings. I spent much of Natalie's second year expecting this kind of thing, but she never really did it. After she turned three, I stopped worrying. And now, at three and a half, it has come. Even so, I wasn't prepared for last night.
Jason gets up for work at 3am now (yes, really), so our normal plan is to put the kids to bed at 8 and go to sleep ourselves. We stayed up a little later last night (we saw American Idol was on), but had the lights off at 9. Imagine my surprise at 10 when Natalie walked into our room and asked for a drink of water. After Jason and I fumbled around for a moment, I grabbed a mug on my nightstand and filled it with water in the bathroom. I tried to hand her the mug, but she said, "I can't hold it." A little frustrated, I said, "Natalie, hold the cup. I don't know how much you want to drink." She obediently took the cup and drank. Then I took her arm to lead her back to her room. I noticed her arm was sticky. Not a good sign.
"Why is your arm sticky?" I asked.
Natalie whimpered.
I stood in front of her and repeated the question sternly.
Same response.
I got down on my knees to look her in the face. Then the beam of the nightlight shone on her. I took a second look, then pulled her into the bathroom and turned on the light. Bright pink and black were streaked in a large circle around her face, and her arms were covered in the same pink, with blobs of it here and there.
"Why were you playing with my makeup?"
No answer.
I searched the counter for similar markings, but there weren't any. In fact, my makeup bag was no where in sight. I walked to the door of her room and realized her lamp was on. Elsie was still asleep. There, on a pink Dora toddler bed, was my makeup bag and remains of eyeshadow and blush. I stormed out and went straight to our room.
"What is it?" Jason said in a groggy voice.
I gave him the story.
No response. He was tired, and I guess makeup is my department anyway.
So, I started the clean up process. I was fully intending to give Natalie what she had coming to her as soon as she was clean, so I tried not to say to much until then. But when the moment came, I didn't want to do it. I'm not sure what happened. I wasn't angry anymore, but even when I was calm I knew she deserved some sort of punishment. She knows my makeup is off limits, she knows she can't turn her lamp on after we leave, she knows not to get out of bed and play. There were so many violations. Normally, I have no problem being a disciplinarian. I mean, I'm a stay at home mom, so how much does Natalie really get away with? It's not much. I wondered if I just felt like she needed mercy; I'd read something about that lately. I don't know if that was it or not. I explained the concept of mercy to Natalie; I mean, if I was going to give it to her then I was going to make a lesson out of it.
It's just that . . . I don't know, she's three. I could picture her putting on that lipstick and mascara, feeling grown-up and pretty. What a nice thing to feel, it's not so wrong.
I went back to bed and asked God again what was going on with her. If there was something that I'm missing. And the only thing I can think is, she's three. I think she's trying to figure out who she is and how independent she can be.
All I can say is Natalie, be nice to my grandbabies.
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