What do you remember of summer vacations?

The first week that the kids were out of school we set off to start summer vacation off with a family vacation.  For a decade I have planned and executed family vacations, but this year I was too busy with school work to think of it and Josh was bored at work.  Josh wanted a family vacation like he had had when a kid: camping.  I am not opposed to camping.  So he 'planned' a little road trip south to Mammoth Caves National Park.  He did quite a bit of research and I only asked peripherally about how the plans were shaping up.  Rule #1 of delegation - if you give them the job, let them do it all even if it means somethings may not turn out so wonderful.  I could see a few hitches in the giddy-up, but hey, live and learn.  And learn we did.

We learned that vacationing in the first week of June is wonderful in that there are hardly any tourist,s but a bit unfortunate because all the tourist places are taking a break form Memorial Day crowds before the summer crowds turn up.  That translated into only 2 of the 6 tunnel tours being offered and all the naturalist hikes being cancelled.  We had booked 4 nights of camping at Mammoth cave but found after one day that we had maxed out on 'things' to do.  Josh and the kids were happy to ride their bikes around the campsite and play catch.  My body was not particularly happy with the weather conditions nor the meal options.  Josh had planned the meals, not forgetting that I couldn't eat certain inflammatory substances, but not remembering either.  That meant that for two days my diet consisted of beef.  Beef and Cheetos's.  Sounds like a bad two-year-old menu.  Rolling into day three we realized that camping further in the dank and cool (70 degrees in high humidity = aches for fibromyalgia) was not going to be awesome.  I was willing to troop it out, but frankly there as no more to do at Mammoth Caves.  

Do visit Mammoth Caves, it is phenomenal!  Of course we don't have pictures of anything underground, it was dark and no flash photography allowed.  After living my life in the west with all sorts of lava tubes and sandstone formations I was fascinated by the limestone caves.  I was 'geeking out' the whole time.  If I hadn't been an English major I would have happily spent my academic career looking at rocks as a geologist.  Mammoth is not famous for the dripstone formations (we had seen some of the worlds' best at Meramec Caverns in Mo. on our way up to Indiana) but for the sheer length of the tunnel - over 400 miles charted and 600 miles more expected.  That's amazing! But you can visit their website without me having to gush about it all. If there is a next time we visit we will be in cabins and bring mountain bikes (we are gonna wait till the kids are older so we can do more spelunking).

 Even though I was achey the whole time, Viv spent 30 minutes pouting in the visitor center because she didn't want to answer questions about bats, and Faith peed her pants half way through the historic tour,  what will remember most about camping at Mammoth Caves?  Probably riding our bikes and all sleeping in the same tent.

On we went, south, to Nashville Tennessee.  We had planned to make a day trip of it, but with the unfortunate events of Mammoth, we turned our Tennessee time into two nights in a hotel.  We rushed into town to get some real food and visited the Grand Ole' Opry.  Again, because of being in the 'between season' stage there weren't just fun family things going on at Opry as we had hoped and we weren't staying through the weekend to mash our small kids not a large concert of Little Big Town or Rascal Flats.  So the exterior was all we got of that; well, pictures with large guitars and lessons on overpriced souvenirs.

 The kids at their own spending cash this vacation from their own work which is a wonderful way to learn financial independence, but a grueling and non-stop litany of smallish children bringing up some of the most ridiculous garbage way over priced and saying with big doe eyes "can I buy this Mom?"  It's there money, so I can't just say NO! which is what any reasonable person should say in a souvenir shop (particularly at the Opry when you haven't seen a show or do not know more than two names of country artists past of present).  As it is their money, and their agency, I have to tell them in a severe whisper that a $5 pencil is no better than a 25 cent pencil we could get back home.  They pout a bit and put it back and I push them out of the gift shop to the sidewalk where I can explain the emotional appeal of souvenirs and how such shops get away with raking money out of emotionally charged tourists.  This repeated itself EVERYWHERE we went on this trip.  Exhausting, and I don't think it actually was a lesson learned, yet.   Is that what they will remember of visiting Nashville?

I will remember the dinner we ate at the Opry Hotel.  It was overpriced mexican food, but it was real food in a beautiful location.  The kids will probably remember that we went to a park with an odd old building, the Parthenon, and they got to pose with pillars.

 Danny rarely gets cranky on vacation, but this was one night where we were up late and he had not had enough dinner at the overpriced mexican restaurant.  Add to that there were not readily available restrooms so he had to be rushed off to a remote bush again, did not make him the most pleasant at the Parthenon.

The next day in Nashville was a bit more fun.  We visited The Hermitage, the farm/plantation of Andrew Jackson.  I am sure if Josh had not been in the medical field (for the money) he would have been an American history major.  He has read a biography of most of the American Presidents and loved Andrew Jackson.  Really, Andrew is one of the top 5 presidents of the US.  Who else do you remember?  I really appreciated that the audio tours kept the kids engaged throughout the entire morning without having to complain to me and I could listen to all the tracks from Rebecca Jackson's perspective.  I am intrigued by the history of the south and learning how slavery was justified for so many years even by very well meaning people. I believe I figured out the culprit for the continued inhuman use of black as slaves - the foreman.  That guy was in the worst position ever between the owner and the slaves.  He made it possible the genteel master to be benevolent and for the slaves to revolt which pegged him as the one with the whip.  I'm not saying any of it was right, and certainly my position as a white woman doesn't help me understand the culture or perspective of persecution justifiably, it was certainly a lesson on what may have contributed to the problem.

The Hermitage has about 90% original furniture and construction, that is amazing in itself.  The grounds are lovely and this was one place we were very happy that we visited in the early summer months because we could wander around the grounds without being punished by the sweltering summer heat.  Viv told us that if she had lived back in Jackson's time she would have been slave.  We assured her she was not African American - but it made me wonder about legitimacy of any brown skinned persons.  At any rate she did act as though we had punished her and had her headphones taken away and made sullen march out of the last 45 minutes of our visit at the Hermitage.  We probably won't remember that part.  I will remember how every night Andrew Jackson would go out to his wife's grave and sit with her for 30 minutes or more.

We spent the afternoon popping around downtown Nashville for some authentic music.  We did not pay to go in the Country Music Hall of Fame (again, of you do not know 2 famous country singers before you go in, it is likely you will not appreciate reading wall plaques about people you don't know, especially if you only have a 3rd grade reading level).  Viv was content to see Taylor Swift's name on the wall outside.  She was convinced the entire time we would walk around the corner and see her.  Faith just liked to tap her toes to the music of the live band music coming from every open bar on Broadway (although she did not like when we went into one for a moment to listen to Honky-Tonk because it smelled to thickly of alcohol) and Danny was intent on getting a loose tooth out during lunch, which he succeeded in doing by the end of the meal.    Those events were memorable indeed, but what I will remember is that night in the hotel.

Best parts of vacation are not at the tourist sites.

 We made our way back north with a trip past Abraham Lincoln's birthplace in Kentucky.  Inside this impressive structure is a log cabin that was taken apart and put back together to display around the US as the birthplace cabin of Lincoln.  Later it was discovered as a fake, but it was built inside the structure and now is a 'replica' of the cabin he was born in.  The most fascinating fact; because they rebuilt that little cabin so many times, someone came up with the idea of children toys that you could put together.  And that is the reason that for the first 5 years of my kids' lives they called the 16th president of the United States President Abraham Lincoln Log.

Our final vacation stop was at Churchill Downs, home of the Kentucky Derby.  The were running qualifying races and we watched 4 good races.  Josh was intent on teaching the kids the financial ruin of gambling and had them root for a horse each race with an ice cream wager.  Only on the fourth race did Josh let them box their picks to get an ice-cream.  

Some day we will go back with fancy hats.  We did get free fake tattoos promoting American Pharaoh who won the Triple Crown the next day - first time since 1978.  Pretty historic.  Not that we saw American Pharaoh, but we got an idea of where he ran and how big the jockey's were (we had Faith walk next to one of the jockey's and she was only a couple of inches shorter than he).  At the end of an 'over budget' trip, will I remember that Josh and I were barely talking to each other at Churchill Downs because I thought the kids should be able to eat until they were full despite the cost of food and, budget forbidding, have some lemonade to quench their thirst.  Probably not. They will most likely remember that we finished the 6th Harry Potter book on the drive home and are now in the last  of the series after a years worth of bedtime reading through the epoch take of Harry Potter.

So what do we remember of family vacations?  Sometimes we do recall the crummy parts as the standouts.  Sometimes we don't honestly remember anything more than the pictures tell us (which is why we are biased to only save the happy looking ones or the specifically posed ones).  They remember briefly that we went.  Although, at this point in the summer, three weeks removed from that vacation, the kids are just looking forward to the next vacation planned, and the next, and the next.  The past is behind us, time to move on.

Judas Iscariot was a our neighbor, wish I would have know that when we moved in.

Two phrases that are rampantly running around my brain trying to keep me from doing something rash and rage filled are from some wise men in my life:

• several year ago when my father was being undeservedly slandered at home while he was serving as a missionary in another part of the country I complained to Dad that he was not fighting back, his response was "Let sleeping dogs lie."  I have relied on that several times in my adult lifetime to keep me from getting into tussles with unseemly slanderers.  
• The second bit of wisdom that is keeping my soul from splitting in shattered faith is from a moment of venting to my husband after the heat of being burned again for having only tried my best.  I proclaimed "the worst is just feeling that you are being targeted and attacked when you have done nothing wrong!"  His response, "At least we are in good company."

I recognize that in light of the crimes in the world and recent hate crimes in South Carolina, my personal plight seems insignificant.  Yet I am hurt and have no where to vent and let it out that is satisfying enough to let this incident fly away from me for good.

Today a very kind man named Jeff showed up to my door.  Jeff works for the Department of Child Services.  He informed me that someone had made a complaint on the 15th about two accounts of abuse of my daughter that needed to be investigated.  I was blind sighted.  I was in the middle of wrapping up a productive day of playdates with my kids and yard work.  My good friend was sitting in my living room chatting about various minivans she is considering to buy.  And then the past jumps out of a dirty trash can and belches its way back into my life.

The two alleged accounts of abuse were in no way inaccurate.  We had, in fact insisted that our daughter eat her eggs at breakfast with the consequence that any food she tried to spit out would be fed back into her mouth.  The classic "you don't leave this table until you eat the food that is good for you" is how the case worker classified it.  The second account was using a cold shower as a consequence.  Yep.  We did that.  When you are resolved to do no physical pain to a child and they are out of control, your options to get their attention are limited.  What is shocking about both of these accounts is that we have not, nor have not needed to use them in over two years.  Meaning the child has moved beyond certain manipulative behaviors and we have a peaceful family and healthy child for having stuck to our guns during a difficult phase.

The question is who and why would this be called in now?  As I mentioned, those accounts occurred two years ago.  I had to ask Jeff again, how old is this request?  DCS only services complaints within 30 days of their report.  I know the rules and that he could not have disclosed who made the complaint.  I didn't have to ask.  There is one person that was once very close to us has become the persecuting Judas.  Someone who was part of my day to day life two years ago and has since turned into someone whose name stabs me to the heart.

You can't really ask what incited Judas to sell Jesus for 30 pieces of silver.  Money doesn't seem like a  good enough answer.  I can't understand why a person whom you have loved, trusted, helped, responded quickly and kindly to for years would suddenly take a turn.  Our only crime was to look for a different house, move out of the neighborhood and thus no longer be able to respond to her whims.  For years I helped with her yard, put up a fence at our labor cost, took care of her complaints of the alleyway, talked with neighbors she didn't like so that she wouldn't have to.  I gave her paint for her home and diapers for her newborn baby.  I weeded her yard and mowed her lawn when she was fully capable of doing it.  I shared the produce from my garden and gave them space in our garage to store their things.  I could have wronged her somewhere along the way, given her some little space to hold onto an error.  I don't get it.  I all know is that life since moving has been worse for us.  From my side of the newly built (demanded and harangued) fence along our abandoned property line that we manage from afar is that she cannot remember one good deed or moment.  She can't see that we were once friends.

And then calling DCS years later?  I know she has called the City on our property which has cost us literally $2000 on immediate update projects.  I know she called animal control on our renters resulting in them having their pets taken away.  We have had to block her number because of harassment and I have refused to pass on information of another renter that has escaped her tangled web of manipulation.  Oh now I sound vindictive....I am venting....I am upset and confused and just don't understand the Judas's of the world.  The ones that sell their friendship, forget it, or the ones that walk guiltlessly into a chapel full of Christian people and put bullets through their hearts.

The recourse left available for those holding onto faith in humanity is forgiveness.  Forgiveness carries with it a process similar to grief - disbelief, anger, resentment, venting, puzzlement, faith, prayer, belief, and choice.  I'll get there.  As Jeff, the bearer of bad news from DCS found out, I have done no harm here.  Let sleeping *female dogs* lie.  We are in good company.

Our home as we left it. (yes Judas lived to the right)

*P.S.  Last night I went to directly confront Judas.  She said she was not the caller on any of the complaints.  Although I don't know if I have built any trust back yet, my soul at least feels free of the burden of worrying why....I put a lot of store on face-to-face communication and I saw in her face at least the realization that any negativity 'anonymously' called in is not without consequence.  There is a great mystery as to whom would want to hurt our family with such accusation.  I did learn that even uncomfortable conversations are better than building up spirals of blame. I don't need scapegoats in my life; I need clarity.  Part of her rebuttal recounted all the positive things she felt she had done to sustain our friendship.  Maybe we all only see the best in ourselves.

Cain Theory

As a parent, I have been considering what I will call today the "Cain Theory."

Having been raised on a scripture foundation, the analogies of my parenting strife today are rife with accounts of Laman, Lemuel, Cain, Lucifer and the other biblical black sheep of the family.  For doesn't every family have one?  Or are they only considered the black sheep in comparison with their fairer siblings?  I'm not talking color of skin only here - although scripture and our family are rife with that pigmented contrast - I'm talking of the inevitability in a family with more than one child that one of them is comparatively naughtier than the rest.

What bothers me about my 'Cain Theory' as of yet is that I have no empirical evidence to show me statistically how many families feel like there is one child that is 'naughtier' than the rest, the black sheep.  I'm not just talking about ideologically different today, I'm talking of the one who was hardest to parent because they, well, were just bad somehow.  I have been considering this morning if this is a foster parenting problem or a universal parenting problem.  That's how it got to be the "Cain Theory."

Look, Cain and Abel, and all the rest of the start of the human family, all came from the same parents.  From the record we are given it is safe to assume that Adam and Eve were really great parents.  They taught all their children the laws of God.  They taught them all to garden, for it was in the garden that Cain got his ultimate revenge or punishment however you see it.  This morning it was in the garden that I watched one of my children exact her revenge on the world, one cucumber plant at a time.

As part of my personal parenting philosophy I will not give my child enough space to blame Satan for their actions (in fact, I don't know if Lucifer just wasn't painted as a devil until he was compared against Jesus but that is a deeper theological debate than is needed for the day).  I do believe there is opposition in all things, including our choice of how we use natural emotions.  It would be silly to deny that we all feel and that some of those feelings are negative.  Anger is real.  Frustration and fatigue are very real.  Just as real as love and joy and compassion.  Agency, which is told to be the greatest gift of God to His children (Christ's sacrifice was His own great gift) allows us to experience emotions in all their colors and make a choice as to how they will guide our lives.  To some degree, for at least a reasonable 8-18 years, parents have the obligation to guide the choice of actions based on feelings.  That is part of what parenting is right - teaching your children the 'appropriate' way to behave when under the duress of natural life.

It seems too easily metaphorical in the bible that Satan or his angels popped up right in the moment when Cain was feeling anger toward his brother and let him know exactly where to put that negative feeling.  I sympathize with Cain, working hard like the rest of the family, but always feeling cast in the shadow of Abel. And we have no evidence that Abel was the perfect brother.  Perhaps he was goading on Cain that day, I've seen it enough in sibling relationships.  Even the good ones can be downright vindictive when their parents' backs are turned.  So why is it that Cain got the curse of the family? And was the curse before or after the killing?  Who's to say that Cain didn't already know that he was the bad boy of the family and was just fulfilling their expectations for him.

I'll admit it - some of us have bigger inner dragons than others and in a group setting as tight as a family, that is not seen as an asset.  Some family members can feel like a liability.  As much as we love them, we continue to ask God why he gave us this  member of the family to help us experience the binaries of life.  But then I pause.  Is any of us so bad in isolation?  If my Cain were my only child, would I really be so up in arms today about cucumber plants uprooted?  Or would I shake my head, give her a hug and tell her she was being silly.  Was the disaster only so disappointing because the other two children had angelically completed their weeding singing songs and wanting to help longer than was needed?  Biblically, would Cain have been such a big deal had there been no Abel?

Despite my theory, there is still parenting to be done.  Principles of work, love, respect, and self-worth that will have to be gaged with or without the comparisons.  The point, I think, is to stop and think about how 'bad' any of us really are.  If the dragon of revenge wants to wield it's way through my garden and rip out one innocent plant after another, I shall be grateful that today she is only 7 years old and that there is still time to plant again.  Maybe Cain had ripped out a few plants prior to sinking a knife into his brother.  I don't know.  I just feel like today I have a bit more mercy for all those siblings who got painted black before really knowing that there had to be any comparison.

A birthday in question: when parenting makes an otherwise festive occasion really forced

Viv's birthday is October 16th.  Having been born in 2007 she was on schedule to celebrate her 6th year of life.  Birthday celebrations are to mark the passing of age and growth into new stages in life.  And this year, we found out how negotiable birthdays can be.

The introduction of birthday celebrations in our family with Viv made a dramatic shift.  When we celebrated her 4th birthday we fast realized that the whole idea of 'my special day' was going to have to be eradicated from the family dialogue.  No more of the queen for the day if they are going to be a regular tyrant!  We also learned that gifts were going to have to take on a very significant purpose so as not to be expected as a reward just for having stayed alive one more year.  We do not support any hint of entitlement in this home.

Thus evolved over the last to years the family tradition of celebrating the things that make the birthday child special. I have really really liked this method, not just for the psychological effect on the kids, but for the mentality it puts me in as a parent preparing the days purpose; especially as it relates to choosing gifts.  Gifts now represent what we truly feel is special about our children and how far they have come in the past year.  As they open the gift we are happy to explain to them how their accomplishments of that year have affected the family and how we want to rejoice with them in all the good they have done and can continue to do as we support them.

Even with our most managed discussion of what birthdays are for, Viv has a built in diva that sets the day up as ultra dramatic.  As she is developing she displayed the budding awareness of dates and passage of time leading up to her birthday.  In her excited way, she was announcing to everyone weeks in advance the approach special day for her.  "How old will you be?" the friendly person asks.  "I'm turning 6!"  

Well, it is no secret that we have regressive struggles with Viv that range from two year old tantrums (yes still throwing her self on the ground folks) to three year old potty training to four year old indecision.  Yes, we grant her the grace of not having had the most smooth transition through many of those developmental stages and know that her brain is in a marathon race to retrieve some lost time, however, anyone who knows Viv knows she has a super developed sense of street smarts and awareness of social cues. 

 Thus, on a difficult day, facing more of the two-year-old than an almost-six-year-old,  Jost tapped into the hot-topic resource for our parenting benefit.  Watching her from the rear-view mirror pout and kick and nearly bite her siblings, Josh calmly said "I don't know Viv if you are actually turning six this year." Despite her will to be sour, the mention of the magic day snapped her out of her mis-matched emotion.  "What?!"  Her eyes popped open and the indignity of the possibility that she might not make it to her self-announced milestone stopped the whole show.  "I don't know.  You just don't seem to be acting like a girl who is almost turning six.  You are acting more like a four-year-old.  Maybe you are just going to stay five this year."  Viv's reaction to this plausible pause in time and progression toward becoming what she most wants to be, a teenager, was enough to give us the parenting ammunition we needed to keep her at point for the next few weeks.

Yes, we were shameless enough to hold her birthday over her head to help motivate her toward the behaviors we knew she could master.  As a desperate parent, you will use whatever you have, and generally that means you manipulate what is most important to the child at the time.  How many parents ground their children from the one thing they like most?  It works.  With Viv we have just learned that what she holds on to most is not material, it is the immaterial status of various social positions.  If you want her to stop spiraling herself into another mammoth fit, all Josh does is pull out his camera phone and let her know he is going to show it to whichever person Viv is most interested in impressing at the time.  This scares me sometimes because I worry that we are instilling some sort of social shame inside her, but what else have we got?

Back to the birthday.  

Viv really did do her very best and the equations of age and behavior were made more and more clear to her.  We just mentioned what age range her behavior was most developmentally appropriate for and she made adjustments.  Not that we were always setting her back, we also rewarded her with the idea that she really is acting her own age, or even above it when appropriate.  The night before her birthday, when I traditionally take up a little more of my precious sleep time to hang streamers and put the gifts on the table for the waking birthday child I was not in the mood to do it.  I still didn't think she was there.  Luckily, I have a loving and forgiving man as my companion and Viv's daddy who went and hung the streamers and I lay acting like a thirteen-year-old fuming in my own room.  

 A bit of sleep and earnest prayer met the morn of the 16th with a renewed possibility that all we will be better today.  We got Viv to school with her photo album to share at community time and I made it through the day planning to make it a special one for Viv.  Once home from school we had a dance party to a Glee Pandora station (Viv loves any music from Glee or Taylor Swift, I swear she is a preteen some days).  Viv wanted to frost her brownie-cheesecake dessert with purple frosting herself despite the sugar alert sirens blaring in my head.  Then we set up for dinner of ramen noodles, her preferred choice.  When Daddy joined us for dinner then we got to the celebrations of what makes Viv special to us:

6, yes all 6, flower power candles on an over sweet 'cake.'

Cards from grandparents and aunts that emphasized the qualities that they felt were best in Viv.

Sparkly leotards for another year of huge improvements in Gymnastics.  She shines there and is her most focused and uses her body to her best potential as a gymnast, which we love about her and for her.

The semi-practical gift..

"Never Peed in panties" which is significant for a six year old to never pee in her panties anymore....it didn't last long unfortunately.

This book reminds me exactly of Viv!   "YOU WILL BE MY FRIEND!" by Peter Brown is the story of super confident Lucy bear who is determined to make every creature in the forest her best friend.  In the end she finds that just being calm and allowing people to get to know you is the best way to make friends.  There is certainly a moral in there that we hope will pass on to Viv.

The National Geographic "First book of Why?" was another natural book to give to Viv.  We do love her inquisitive conversationalist but are encouraging to find her own answers to questions this year rather than expecting everyone else to give her answers or opinions.

 After the actual birthday Viv figured she had got to what she wanted and needn't pay attention to the behaviors of a six year old, since she was six now anyway, which didn't fly for us as parents.  Yes, we did take back some of her gifts as bounty until she reversed some of her reversals.  It still meant enough to her to 'grow-up' that she has now, more than two weeks later, earned back all her representative gifts of moving into a six-year-old life.  Yes, it has been a bit silly to have to hold in question Viv's actual developmental age this last while, but the pay off is worth it.  Even if we do look like mean parents for awhile and forced the issue just a bit.

Trickiest Treat

Halloween 2013 was almost as tricky and a crazy treat as it was three years ago.    A fated trip to a Taco Bell on Sunday, October 31st in 2010 gave us the biggest scare ever.  Being a parent to Viv has been kinda like walking through a haunted house; it scares you around every corner, have a bit of a freak out moment, laugh and realize that what scared you wasn't that big a deal, and then you clench onto your partner and get ready for the next adventure around the corner.  Best part of it all, when you get through you are so happy that you risked it, and, AND, you had fun!

Last night was a reminder of what fun it is to be Viv's mom.  Amidst the drenching rain that plagued the trick-or-treaters and some crazy aches and pains - Viv had a clairvoyent moment when the costumes and the show was just taken off and she was her pure self.

 Because we love gymnastics and Viv would never miss a lesson if it  was left to her.  My already founded aversion to begging for candy and the poor weather made it a clear choice to keep our regular Thursday night schedule.  There were only three other people in the gym that made the same choice, and each had their coach to themselves.  AWESOME!  Viv got a one-on-one lesson for an hour and a half with her coach (at group rates) with a practically empty gym.  Talk about focus!

 The best part is how excited Viv gets as she feels that absolute mastery of her body and mind.  She gets pumped!  Her coach was amazed that she didn't get exhausted with that long session full on all by her onsies.  Nope, not Viv.  When it comes to gymnastics she has an unending store of gymnastic power.  A little power ranger in purple.  So happy, so happy with herself and that moment.

 Viv really undressed for Halloween this year and gave me one of the best treats of the week.

 Faith and Danny were hanging at home with Josh handing out some candies to the soaked and shivering few that were trying to enjoy the holiday.  The kids liked playing with Daddy and in the end were so happy they were warm and building with magnets.

As for the traditional, "where's the extra cute costumes?' Post for Halloween?  We had a Church trunk-or-treat on Saturday and managed to have all the kids in costume long enough to pilfer candy off of good Christian people sitting in the back of their car.  That was all the more candy I wanted in the house anyway.

Ever since reading "Mummies in the Morning" book #4 of the Magic Tree House series he wanted to be a Mummy, until we read book #5 just last week and he started think about maybe being a ninja.  So when we got him all wrapped up he was a bit moody and upset that it was difficult to walk and that you could see some flesh.  With a bit of foresight Josh and I brought along a backup costume for the trunk-or-treat and sure enough he was Captain America before the night was out.  It was a cool costume while it lasted!

Viv wanted to be a fairy queen. A what? A Dairy Queen?  Fairy, but Josh had a good time teasing her about it.  It was fun doing the makeup but then the dress we ended up having to borrow didn't work it into colors...she was just so pleased with having been primped and painted.

Faith was specific this year.  She was Glinda the Good Witch.  She loves characters and love being the bubble witch.

Josh and I went as Buddy Holly and a Bond Girl, both circa 1960, here you only catch Josh's baby blue suit that her really only put on for me.  He loves me.

Godly Parenting

Parenting in in this century is hard.  Even the definition of what parenting is has me a bit confused on days (I have been trying to create a working definition for my research and it is a kerfuffle).  But I don't need to go to the internet to tell me that parenting is hard.  I have kids.  They let me know every day that there is a lot of work involved in this precious work of developing souls into the people they are meant to be.  As I have been searching through the historical literacies to contemporary blogs looking for where mom's are instilling morals in their wee ones, I realize that being a moral mother is a daily battle.

At the end of the day, I am a Bible-based parent trying to be a Christian woman.  I think that encompasses as much moral guidance as I can muster for three kids and a lifetime of guilt for not having done it good enough.

There has been as storm of mental hurricanes swirling around my head since Sunday.  It all started with the candid conversations with Viv.

It had been a rough week.  The kids were out of school for fall break Thurs-Monday.  That meant a reintroduction to the types of energy cocktails we have in our little people.  Things can get a bit rocky and as a parent, we sometimes get a bit too reactionary.

Here is the document that evolved out of it all by Thursday night:

Unacceptable behaviors:

1- Lying

2- Disrespecting anyone in the family

3- Refusing to talking during ‘conversations

4- Willful disobeying

Told us:

-everyone at home makes her mad/frustrated

-she doesn’t like/love Mother or Father

-likes her teachers more so that is why she is better at school

-Doesn’t ever want to have conversations

-when asked why she said “Oh my God!” during play, she first said her Dad says it (which we never take the name of the Lord in vain) and then refused to say where she had heard or learned the term, she is aware that cussing is unacceptable behavior

• says she hits her sister Faith because “she won’t ever listen to me”
• Viv will not self-entertain and when engaging with siblings (her only option at home) has to be in the position of authority, dictating the game, or pestering them to get the attention she wants
• she always answers her teachers immediately and truthfully

We Told her:

-Based on the information we received from school evaluations (PTC)it is clear to us that her behaviors are choices based on audience (home vs. school) and our expectation is equal treatment, at least, in the home

• Because we love her, we will base our parenting on her potential not her current behaviors i.e. we believe she will succeed in life if she eradicates unacceptable behaviors so we are willing to do whatever it takes to help her get rid of them now, including spankings (which is standard with the other children)
• Made it clear that our treatment of her will be no different than her siblings because she is not any different, which will change some of our reactions to her whereas we have given her more options or chances for behavioral change she will now have the same expectations as the other two (comply or consequence)

Catalyst Day (Thursday October 24, 2013):

After many days of counseling as a family, as a couple, and introspection as parents we recognized recurring patterns:  All behaviors with Mom were either decidedly defiant and oppositional or manipulatively sweet it draw attention away from other siblings and interactions with Dad were to ‘win him over’.  On a day out of school the behaviors were so pronounced at home that we felt it necessary to make immediate changes.  We always show a unified front in all decisions made regarding what parenting choices we are making for her, even though now she has made a stand that she is not making any choices with us.   As Parents: we are trying to inform before any consequence occurs so they do not seem as unruly punishments but direct result of behaviors.  We have decided that she will no longer be given the option/consequence of going to her bed because it has become apparent that she prefers not to have to deal with the issue at hand and seeks to be sent to her bed as soon as possible to avoid processing and hopes the delay will redirect the consequence.

I look at it now and think - maybe a bit harsh. But when you are dealing with a really, uh.....special child, things are harsh.  Friday I went to parent teacher conferences to see if Josh and I were just seeing everything through a tainted class.  Yes, Viv is highly distractible and has some rough social patches at school, but everyone is super optimistic.  I got a bit of perspective about how she is working at school.  Basically the same things at home, she just has a more structured (?) or better (!) environment at school that makes her feel successful.  I am so glad!!  That is all we want for her as parents is for her to successfully figure out the labyrinth of her brain so that her life is successful.

With Friday's perspective, and help from my sister with Saturday's events (well all tend to push problems aside when family is visiting), we made it through with out any major issues.  After some long naps on Sunday we all sat down for some heart warming eats.  Josh took the more calm environment to have little introspective talk with Viv when the other kids were finished (Viv is always the last to finish because she gets distracted even when eating food).

Josh opened the conversation with:
"I know we had a few rough days back there.  Is there anything you want to ask me about the new expectations?"

Viv: "Why do I have to have consequences?"

Josh gave me a calming glance that had "Chill out, I've got this" written all over it.  He knew I was still pretty heated about things and often feel that her questions are a bit, well, manipulated or manufactured.  He can often give a more genuine approach to things.

Josh: "Why do you thing we have consequences?"  Ah yes, use the best of the communication tactics available from "How to Talk so Kids will Listen & Listen So Kids will Talk."

After appropriate stall for a bite of food and dramatic draw of attention, Viv: "Because that is how we learn?"

Sounds reminiscent of a lesson we may have had a thousand million times.  Josh illustrates with the available fork why it is good to learn from consequence instead of continually stabbing yourself in the hand over and over again with the pointed prongs of unwise choices.

Viv: "But I don't like consequences."
Josh: "That's why we have them.  Would you ever learn anything new if you knew you could get ice cream by just doing the same thing all the time?"
Viv, with a unwanting air to admit it; "I guess not.  I should learn."

Their conversation continued a bit longer with some semi-satisfying results and Josh ends his portion of the discussion with a giant squeezing hug telling Viv how much he loves her and how much she believes in her ('reprove betimes with sharpness and show an increase of love after"+ practicing what he is reading in "Building Confidence in your Child" + Josh's amazing ability to forgive and forget until the next infraction).  Josh then nods over her tiny shoulder toward me, the muted observer that I should follow suit and frankly forgive her for the past 4 days of emotional turmoil and confidence destroying tactics that she and I have jointly gone through.  Viv suspects that the pregnant pause also means it is now Mommy's turn to chime in on the subject.  I gather up all my mothering instincts to be the bigger person, and surrender them to my personal wounds:

Me: "Viv, I have a question.  Why should I have to forgive you over and over again when you show no signs of really repenting?"

With a slight tilt of the head and her biggest brown eyed practiced innocence, "Because you love me.?" Her answer was a statement, yet when she saw the skeptical response in my face she retracted her confident body language back into a question, showing me that I was supposed to explain it to her.  Josh's eyes also lazer-beamed a grown up look into my person, probably trying to awaken that grown-up I had shoved out of the way earlier.

"God loves all His children, but He can't bless them until they repent."

It was a semi-textual example of how the Bible can truly be used for situational advantage.

In truth, I don't remember where the rest of the conversation went with Viv because I got side-tracked with the fact that I may have just twisted doctrine to suit my preferences.  In my personal conviction of religious perspective I really try to keep a textual connectedness to all principles taught from scripture and abhor the extracted use of words for isolated benefit.  But when it comes to examples of parenting through the scriptures, it gets rather confusing.

God's adjust for each of His children through time.  There is the vindictive role of God in the Old Testament who punishes with candor. Yet, the moments of tender instruction to His prophets illuminates the willing forgiveness on the edge of the clouds for all of Abraham's seed, His chosen people.  It makes like children of Israel look like real idiots when they can't get their act together and just get out of the wilderness.  And what about the God of deliverance that helps poor Joseph rise from the bottom of the pits and prison to rule over all Egypt?  The lesson is that parenting is situational.  Or is the lesson that some kids are just better than others so it is easier to bless them?

Within the last years I read a inspiring parenting help book entitled "5 Spiritual Solutions for Everyday Parenting Challenges" by Richard and Linda Eyre, the founders of Joy Schools.  Their second suggested solution is "Remember God's Parenting Patterns."  They pull 15 patterns out of the scriptural accounts of God's dealing with His children.  Some resonate more prolifically with my own nature:
 3. God gives clear, simple laws with will-announced consequences, rewards, and punishments.
 8. God has a plan of happiness for His children
15. God makes family central to all and the core of His purpose.
And some just seem a bit non-applicable:
11. God sent His eldest son to help and save us.
12. God sends angels.
Others are still in the works for me personally, and obviously stumbling blocks for my relationship with Viv in particular:
1. God grants us complete, unconditional love.
4. God allows His children the chance to repent.
5 God taught us and trained us and held us close throughout the premortal life, and then He gave us choices and let us go.
13. God finds joy in His children and in His relationship with them.

Graciously, God is my Father, and is perfect in those points of parenting I struggle with.
2. God sees (and treats) each child as a unique and eternal individual.
In other words, I needn't worry if Viv is one who needs washed out in a flood or lifted from the ashes, I need to work with the individual she is and figure out how to get a bit closer to God so He can help me with her.  In my calm moments, I can see that and feel that.  It is in the more mortal moments that I loose my footing.  The best lesson in forgiveness will be in trusting that the Lord will forgive me for those moments I really messed it up with Viv.  She already forgives me.  That is humbling.  Because I love her, and I really really do, I will forgive and learn, too.  In parenting, we must always remember that we are just as much a child in God's eyes.

Yeah, she's cute and she know's it.  Lil stinker

Goodbye Summer

Today the kids and I went up to their school to get all their 'stuff' in their classrooms.  'Ret and Set' to go for school next week.  They have been on a count down every since I was done with my summer school.  Which reminds me; where did the summer go?  I somewhat remember some fun before the 4th of July.  Then we had that crazy fun trip to DC.  Then it all sort of disappeared.  I will blame that on a six week intense summer school course.  I am not going to do that again.  In the end I did make and A grade in the class, but it seems to me it was the first A I have ever really worked for (that sounds snoodish).  The question remains, was the A worth missing half of the summer?

NO,

The kids managed without me.  As they always seem to do.  The house has suffered a little from neglect, but I have promised to give it fair attention next week.  Next week, when all my precious little people will be gone from me for 7 hours of the day.  

GONE

I have battling feelings about the whole school ordeal.  I know they will love it.  I know I will enjoy some time to conquer multiple projects.  Yet, I will miss my companions of 6 years. I have given my every moment to these little people. Sometimes it feels I have given them my very identity.  Now I must rebuild it without them.  It struck me that I might feel the need to turn on the radio to keep me company in the heavy silence of their absence.  I don't listen to the radio now, just the happy sound of them playing in the house.  Right now they are in the playroom working with change and legos.  It is magical.  Every moment of being a child is 

MAGIC

Josh doesn't like the aftermath of what I call daily magic.   He calls it trashing the house.  Each day the kids create a new magical world all their own.  I can observe and listen, but always from a distance.  There is a reason there are no adults in Neverland, they change the magic, and I have never like being the pirate.  Sometimes I get to be the monster, which means they run from me and still giggle.  I can be a monster.  I can be a momma.  I'd rather not be alone though.  School feels like the end of childhood magic and being together.  They will be with other people, not me.  I suppose all I can do is wait another ten months for 

SUMMER.

These three little people got my camera one day and amused themselves with....quarters....no, glistening eyeballs.  That is magic worth only 50 cents.

Setting Sails

 It has been a while coming for me to articulate.  My summer has been full of peace and joy.  I wouldn't wish to say it is a rarity, but is is something of a nuance to actually feel it so intensely. I have been a captain of a fools ship for so long it is strange to find competent sailors aboard - meaning, my kids are showing definite signs of becoming independent of me.

The transition has been met with incredulity on my part.  I still believe that I must pause my personal agendas as I have done for the past 6 years in order to be ultimately available for assistance.  However, as the days lengthen with summer sun, the periods between needed interruptions draws out and I am left thinking "What do I do?"

The kids are best of friends on most given days and play on the same imaginative level.  I feel like a real dunce in their world.  Perhaps it is I the fool captain and the ship full of competent crew all along.  I try to sneakily observe all the blissful imagination that accompanies large blanket constructed forts or piles of toys and books and remember that I once did that too.  If ever I am detected the magic seems to dissipate for I am the outsider and adults always seem to come with too many rules.  I suppose now I work on changing my persona to match their world.

In the end, I have discovered summer in a new way this year: full yet empty, peace and chaos, joy and independence.  I remain on the fringes of a epic change - growing up.  My kids are growing up - which I have repeatedly tried to forbid to such responses as "But Momma, you grew up because you wanted to be a Mom [Faith]" and "It's okay Mom, I can Skype you a lot when I am far away [Danny]." They know and feel that the transition is natural and rejoice. I have been reticent.

As the lazy summer days have lengthened I have relaxed and been generously enveloped in this new peace.  They are happy to play.  I, in my somewhat distance location of observation for safety purposes, am left to keep one ear on the present and the other listening to the joyous moments of my own past.  I was a happy child and I am a happy mother to hear the noises of past and present harmonize.

We continue to just enough work to feel responsible and connected to purpose, but the rest is left to play.  They govern themselves in joy; welcome difference to the iron hand of consequences.  If it makes us happy, it is best.  If it is not so fun, then leave it behind.  Rest when needed.  Eat as hunger strikes.  Exercise your body in play.  Sleep as all is exhausted.  Dream peacefully in anticipation of another day to come.  My role - observe happily.

Sail on you happy ship!  I shall hold the rudder and my budding captains will make the course.  We are setting sails into a new land of discovery and life.  It is yet uncharted by this mother for now I no longer will be doing the driving.  My kids are growing up.

We  have spent endless hours at Metea Park.  A pond, with a beach, and fishing, and grass.

Water, friends, sun, all we need.

Close enough to save before drowning but far enough away not to interfere.

Piano Recitals

This may be more time than you are wanting to waste looking at the internet, but here are the videos of the kids' first piano recital.  Only a parent can really be excited about these pieces because they represent so much progress.  Everyone else in the room is really just waiting for the kid to do something silly, or get too nervous, or otherwise be entertained by the kid itself and not the performance.  A parent also appreciates the value of a kid having to practice and follow through with performing a piece in front of other people, and that is why parents attend these things, so that their kid will get the same nervous fear and hopefully overcome it because like minded parents are doing the same thing.  It is a harmless version of group think.

Danny was first to play his pieces.  He crutched with his teacher in the moment of nervousness, which is his default to completing many tedious tasks.  He had played his pieces at home quite well, as you can tell, they were memorized.  It is cute to see how much concentration it takes to make his fingers move independently. I was really surprised to see Viv be nervous.  As much as her bravado shows that she loves being in the spotlight, it was extremely difficult for her to get through the introduction of her songs.  I was shocked.  Of course my heart went out to her and I was immensely proud that she swallowed down the fear and tears and played her songs magnificently.  She really loves practicing the piano and feeling masterful of her own fingers.  She is the only child that does not groan a bit when asked to practice the piano as part of her morning routine.  Most of the time she practices the piano to get out of doing the rest of her chores.Faith is undoubtedly a natural.  She doesn't have to try hard to succeed at piano.  For her, piano lessons is more about learning to try hard to be better than what is already easy.  While she as playing I could hear her counting quietly to herself.  Playing rythms is the newest part of their learning and she did want to do her ultimate best.  I mentioned to her after that I had heard her counting and was proud that she was being meticulous.  A sly smile slid over her face as she giggled slightly, "You could hear me?  But I was saying it very very quietly."  Mothers will notice everything in the heightened anticipation of their children's success.  She ended her songs and you will see made a quick ballerina curtsey, the exact gesture that the crowd was waiting for. 

I am really proud of my bunch.  They were the youngest and have progressed a great deal in just the four months they have been going to lessons.  I am not the best at keeping them praticing regularly, perhaps that is why we all started young to get better with time.  Originally the idea of piano lessons was an added benefit to having a friend babysit them while I was in class on Thursday, now it is an extremely beautiful blessing for us all.  I am grateful for Jenna's gifts of music and patience that she has shared with us all.  The kids did terrific in their very first piano recital!

Getting better

While going to sleep Saturday night Josh asked me if I ever used to play with my dad.  I paused to go back through the years and recollect the games and giggles that I had with a serious seeming papa.  Two things stuck out: Family Home Evening and pinching.  Thank heavens for the Gospel in our home growing up that guided the interactions I had with my Dad.  

I remember most the mandatory FHE monday nights.  We had to sing, have a lesson, a game, and a treat, no exception.  Most of the games were home made and there were some mad favorites.  I remember the receding light of day on our front lawn casting shadows over an elaborate obstacle course that Dad had built for us.  Each of us lined up on the sidewalk and anxiously awaited our turn.  I don't remember all we had to do, but it was a good competition, and lots of laughs.  I think for weeks thereafter we tried to make a better obstacle course than Dad but no one really mastered it.  

We frequently cleared the coffee table and pulled out a quarter to play 'slapsies and creepsies.'  In turn we would secretly pass the penny underneath the table until the opposing team determined our fate.  I believe this was the beginning of learning the 'poker face' when you were so excited as a child that the penny actually landing silently in your hand - at least until they called 'creepsies' and you had to slowly slide your fingers out onto the table without letting the quarter clink.

Dad truthfully came up with the best games and then we copied the until we were bored of them.  He often brought in scout tricks and laughed at our expense when we couldn't figure out his riddles.  More than once I sat on a wet rag playing 'Unga Bunga' or had my nose attached to a broom.  Dad just laughed inside and wouldn't give the answer.  It was fun for us all.  Although, it was hard to have to sit next to Dad during the lessons of FHE because he was notorious for pinching your leg to keep himself awake and watch the girls jump.  Those Monday nights were a haven.  I realize now that it is because of our parents' persistence that we all learned how to sing, play the piano, and teach the Gospel at a young age.  Those are miraculous skills!  And we did have fun.

As parents, Josh and I are getting better.  I am glad that we constantly evaluate and try our best to become better.  We determined that we would both like to play more games as a family. We want to fill our house with good old fashion fun and music.  THe influence of reading "Little House on the Prairie" series to our kids has been tremendous for us as we remember how simple it is to have a solid family.

 Sunday we set out to create a pattern despite being sick and tired (very literally).  Kids don't care how you feel as a parent, the just know what you are doing is lame.  Right after Church and lunch we sat down to a game of Memory.  Danny is particularly good at this game and Faith has extreme luck.  Viv just likes the attention she gets at her turn and strangely will turn over the same cards turn after turn after turn, but gratefully she has gotten out of the sulky stage of worrying about winning.  We played through twice, though we should have stopped at one since the attention on the second game waned fast; Josh and I both just wanted to prove that we weren't as rusty at Memory as we had been the first game.

The kids picked out Legacy for our afternoon movie/nap.  We piled on top of each other like a family of gerbils.  Danny and I slept through most of it and then on for a more drug induced sleep (me) while Josh took the girls out on a walk around the neighborhood.  When I decided to get up I found cups full of dandelions and other precious weeds on tops of loving notes from the girls.  Josh was sitting with the girls in the front room reading books.  Danny gravitated to the reading and I moved to the piano to fill the room with music.  Viv, our natural singer, was soon found at my side and I delighted in hearing her soft little voice mingling in and out with mine.  She just likes to hear the melodies and doesn't care that she doesn't know the words.  We played a bit of 'name that tune' and Viv was working on reading the titles so she didn't have to guess (she still really resents being wrong on an answer) and I was pleased that she new she could read well enough to work it out.  We sang and sang until Faith joined us and then my singer was out.  I continued to play the piano for practice, and an example to the kids who are now taking piano lessons, while the girls danced. 

Josh had disappeared with Danny and the girls soon found out where they were as they peeked through the front window.  Danny is a very analytical boy and is masterful at playing checkers.  Josh and I have been sad that most of our checkers pieces have disappeared - yet the simplicity of invention saved the day!  Josh created checkers on our porch and they used light and dark colored rocks.  I insisted the girls stay out of the game for at least one game before they ran outside in glee.  While I made a late dinner Josh taught them how to play four-square on the sidewalk.

The day ended peacefully together as Josh finished putting in the hanger rail in the kids' closet (part of our Saturday projects) and I read to the girls.  Josh stayed in the room to listen with Danny since we are all involved with the story.  Family prayers, kisses and goodnight.  Definitely better.