The Reality Hits...

The last 6 weeks has been a whirlwind of flu, strep and sinus infections. Once we all recovered from all that, we moved right into a few things that has slung me into a reality of being a mother which I'm not sure I am ready for...

Children's Sabbath happens at our church one time a year and it is a day we take aside to celebrate the children's ministry in our church. Joshua sings in the kindergarten choir. Each and every Wednesday, when it is time to go to practice, it is a battle of wills. He is a very reserved child. I can feel the feelings he is having and the anxiety he feels about being in a large group, a new situation, doing new things. We have learned to be creative in our convincing, trying to make it seem like it is his idea to walk in the room. Sometimes, quite often actually, we enlist the help of someone walking by, who we know would be good at talking with Joshua. Choir practice the week before the Children's Sabbath had not gone well. He cried and did not participate. Sunday came around, Sam was still sick and so it was just Josh and I going to church. The choir teacher, Ms. Marty had already called about Joshua that week and lovingly assured me that he would do fine. When I saw Ms. Marty, and the choir come around with no Joshua, I was worried. They told me he had refused to come. So I left my ushering post, and walked down to the Sunday school rooom where he was with two worship care teachers. He was with the building blocks, building a church. So I convinced him to walk with me.

The more steps I took, the more convinced I became of the importance of him participating in singing that day. He needed to do this. He needed to know that he could overcome this feeling inside himself telling him to be uncomfortable. So we talked. I gave him the team spill, and that Ms Marty was depending on his beautiful voice to be a part of today's songs. I then said, you don't have to sing, but you must go up there and sit with the choir. You are part of the choir and you can't let them down by not even going up there. That, Joshua, would be very disappointing. BAM! it hit him like a ton of bricks. He looked at me and sat right down with is choir.

He sang too. Beautifully if I say so myself. After church he said, "mommy, are you not disappointed in me?" I said no Joshua, I couldn't be prouder. I know how hard that was for you to do. And even though you really didn't want to do it, you did because it was the right thing. I am so very proud of you. He glowed.

The School Cafeteria

Yesterday was parenting day at my kindergartner's school. He was neither excited nor opposed to Sam and I coming to his territory, but once we got there he was obviously glad to see us. I was surprised at the number of parents that were there, expecting there to be maybe half the parents of the children in the class. But only a few children were without a parent with them, and those kids got to spend lunch and activity time with a volunteer.

It was very strange being back in a school cafeteria again. It's been a while. I would always eat the cafeteria food at lunch, I don't even remember having a lunch box. I have a lot of sad feelings about the school cafeteria. It is where I have most of my memories from school. My sister and I were on the free lunch program, and there is such a stigma associated with that. There were even times that I didn't eat lunch so I wouldn't get stares or feel different.

On this particular day they were having hotdogs, chips or chili. Me, Josh and Sam all had a hotdog, Josh's favorite meal. It was fascinating to watch Josh in his own environment. A environment for the first time that does not include me, I am only a visitor. He was quite comfortable there, not talking much, but he really doesn't. He did all the things he was supposed to do, how he was supposed to do it. He loves structure and knowing what comes next. He was proud to lead Sam and I around the school that day.

I was so glad to get the opportunity to spend that precious time with him, in this moment when he still thinks it's cool to hang out with his mom. When he got off the bus that day, he ran to me and said, "Mom! I really loved it when you came to my school and had lunch with me!"

Another small piece of my broken heart mended...

I packed his lunch...

Yesterday was my oldest son's first field trip at school. I was excited for him. He asked me lot's of questions about it..."Will I ride the bus there? Will I be on a different bus than the one that takes me to school and brings me home? What will we be doing there" All very good questions. One thing that struck me though, was what he didn't ask: "Will I have lunch to eat?" Why did I think of that? Why did it strike me as strange?

There I was in the kitchen, putting his crackers, apple, chips, juice box and a special treat of pumpkin cookies all together in a plastic grocery bag. I carefully tied the bag and got out the post it notes and with a black sharpie, wrote his name, his teachers name and K (for kindergarten), then used packaging tape to affix it to the grocery bag. I used three long pieces of tape. I worried it would get lost. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach when I thought of what he would do if he lost his lunch. It was the same feeling I had as a little girl who didn't have a lunch, a pencil, clean clothes, a snack, money for the book fair...and on and on.

I can't help but think about those few little ones in our school, in our community, in our state, in our country, in our world who are forgotten. They are forgotten by their parents. The only people in the world who's sole responsibility it is to look out for them, and they choose not to. It breaks my already broken heart. My boys, have a lunch. I make sure of it. I pack it or ensure of it each and every day, and for that I am so grateful. Each day that I provide their "lunch" my heart is healed a little more.

Tabitha

2 of them...

They're beautiful if I must say so myself. Both healthy, rambunctious, energetic, curious, mischievous, sweet and silly. They're young yet, only 5 and 3. We've been through all those developmental milestones, right on time, right in step. The last 6 years of my life have seen such a change that it seems like two different people to me. These boys, this life change, has in fact changed me forever, for good I think, but it has been a long process, and will continue to be for the rest of my life.

I don't know why this question of "Why I had Boys" has been in the back of my mind. It didn't matter to me, at all. Society favors the girl I think, but in my mind I just wanted to have a healthy, happy family. To give to my children the things that were not given to me. And it didn't matter to me whether it be two girls, a boy and a girl, or two boys. It was in my mind a success if I could provide a loving, nurturing, safe household for my family. Now, being married 11 years, having kids for 5 1/2 of those years, I can claim success to this so far. But not without heart wrenching discovery and exploration of myself, who I am and who I am not.

This is a new adventure for me, blogging. I was introduced to it by two of my "younger" friends and it has crept up in my mind in the last few months. I like to journal. In fact I write to my boys in their own journals in hopes to share that with them one day. But this is for me. For me to sort out myself.

In ending I will share something that another Mom of two older boys shared with me just last week. I treasure these insights, as I feel I have no direction in being a Mom, especially of Boys. I had a sister, a dad who was not involved in life, and have had many bad experiences with the opposite sex (other than my loving husband) from my earliest memory. Anyway, she said to me, "you know, I think everyone should have a boy. They MAKE you lighten up, not care so much about the little things, be silly, laugh and giggle at nothing. They bring that pure unbridled joy right into your life and stick it in your face. Sometimes it is in the form of a bug, worm or frog, but it's there." I've thought of that a lot. Is this why I had boys? To push these things into my life when I wouldn't necessarily do it myself? I don't know. I do know that I am glad God decides this, for surely I would mess it up.