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JDaniel4s Mom

growing & learning with him

What is the opposite of tree?

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We were pulling out of the drugstore parking lot on Monday. We had just dropped off JDaniel’s allergy prescriptions and were headed to playgroup. He was leaning one elbow on his car seat with his fist holding up his head. He looked so pensive back there staring off into space.

“What are you thinking,” I asked him.

“Mom, what is the opposite of hot?” he replied.

“Cold is the opposite of hot,” I answered him.

“Okay, what is the opposite of big?” he wanted to know.

“Little or tiny would be the opposite of big?” I told him.

He went on to ask me the opposite of six or seven things and each time I was able to come up with answers quickly.

I was impressed with the number of things he was coming up with. He was using great thinking skills. His wonderfully inherited DNA or exposure to tons of concepts was shining through.

Then he stumped me with one of his opposite questions.

“What is the opposite of tree?” he wanted to know.

I thought and I thought and I thought.

Bushes are low to the ground and trees reach up high but, some trees can be smaller than a bush.

Grass is low to the ground too, but it can grow tall if it isn’t cut often enough.

I couldn’t think of an answer for him. My answer was to say that we would check with the smart moms at playgroup. ( My playgroup is filled with really smart moms that went to really big colleges.)

When I got to playgroup, several of the moms came up with bushes and grass as the opposite of a tree, but they weren’t willing to say it was the right answer or their final answer.

My friend Kathleen suggested I ask you. She claims my readers super smart too and  are probably able to come up with an answer for my son who inspires higher level thinking.

So, what is the opposite of tree?

This post is linked to Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop.

Trying to guide so, he will thrive!

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“To create a little flower is the labor of ages.”- William Blake

We planted sunflowers in a shallow plastic container so that it would be easy to see the roots form.

We moved the two small thriving plants to a bigger container so that they would grow. They had narrow stems, but seemed to be growing and reaching for the sun.

We moved them one last time into the ground. They continued to reach for the sun. They grew leaves and a small flowers.

These are the flowers a week ago.

We watered them everyday. When they started to get top heavy and droop, we provided stakes to give the support.

The taller flower still developed a crack in its stem. We taped the crack and hoped it would be okay.

Both plants withered in the Carolina sun. Both slowly lost their petals.

I took this picture on Tuesday.

They won’t be displaying their glory.

We will try growing sunflowers again. This time we will plant them directly in the soil.

I hope they will grow deep roots there. Hopefully they will grow thick enough stems to support the flowers they will grow.

The wilting flowers remind of dreams I have for JDaniel.

I so want JDaniel to have deep roots. I want him to be fed nutritionally, spiritually, and emotionally things that will help him grow towards the Son and thrive.

Each day I look back at the events from the day before. I reflect on the lessons I have learned as a mom. Sometimes I need to set aside gardening tools that are not working. Sometimes I need to prune areas that will prevent him from thriving. Sometimes I can sit pack and take in the glories of his growth.

This post linked to Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop!

It’s in his genes

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JDaniel is a happy mix of both my husband’s and my genes.

    This is a picture of my father in-law holding JDaniel who is looking at a picture of my husband.
JDaniel looks like his dad. When I look at pictures of this toddler years, my husband looks just like him. My husband looks just like his dad. I joke that I may not live to see JDaniel3 in his eighties, but I know what he will look like.
My husband prefers to read non-fiction books. I read all kinds of books. JDaniel loves to look at and be read books that are based in real things. Fairy tales are not his favorite. He loves books about construction equipment and robots right now. Although if you give him a good book with rhymes and rhythms in it. He will look at it over and over again repeating what he remembers from the book.

We all love to be outside. Our family does a lot of yard work and playing outside. JDaniel can’t get enough of it. We spend time inside during allergy season, but once that passes we are outside a lot.

We all like to put things together. JDaniel has unfortunately inherited my let’s try to put it together without a manual and then get frustrated when it doesn’t work out genes. Maybe he can learn from my husband how to read manuals.

JDaniel has inherited mixed up sleep and awake time genes. He has my husband’s night owl genes along with my early bird genes. I am still hoping the early bird and night owl genes will become recessive. If that happens, he may finally sleep ten hours straight. I have heard it is possible in the teen years for the sleep genes to change.

JDaniel has inherited my auditory learning genes. He talks through what he is learning and needs clarification of by talking about it all the time. It drives my husband crazy. It is like oral processing in stereo. JDaniel has things he is talking about and I have things to share too. Despite the fact I try to filter at least 70% of what I am thinking .There are times he has to seek refuge in the bonus room where JDaniel’s 90% of what he is thinking can be silenced for a few moments. ( JDaniel keeps the 10% of thought s related to trouble he is going to seek to himself)

We are amazed as we watch JDaniel growing older as to how much of who he is comes from his DNA. The same DNA he inherited from us. I laugh at the things that come from my husband and my husband laughs at what comes from me.

JDaniel is his own person, but he has a lot us in him.

What  genes did you pass to your children?

 
 

Faithful Shield Gets Frequent Dents

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The shield of faith is described in the Bible as a part of the armor of God. It covered you from head to toe and protected you from attack. I always pictured the armor as a beautiful metal plate with intricate designs maybe studded with bronze. It was perfect in its construction and immaculate in it appearance.
My pastor recently gave a sermon on the shield of faith and described it as being filled with the dents of life. The dents and dinks had occurred during events in our everyday life when our faith was tested or we had not had trusted with faith in God.

As I sat there in the pew, I began to think about what had caused the dents in my shield. The times I tried to live my life on my terms and had ignored red flags placed to warn me of wrong decisions being made.

Being a mom has added dents to the shield multiple times in the last three years. I rush through the day sending up pleas and pleading prayers when things got challenging with my strong willed son instead of leaning on God’s promises or even taking time to listen to the answers to them.

During three year old tantrums, I feel my stomach knot up and I try to remain calm. The outward appearance of calm isn’t usually carried inside to the tense feeling I get when I want to handle them with grace and words that I don’t what to come back to haunt me.

I am going to be making a considerable effort to take the time to work on my faith in the coming weeks. Raising a three year old is hard. There are many more dents that will be appearing in my shield in the future. I do hope that I can hold fast to want I believe. A three year old or life in general can wear you down and lead you make decisions that you wish you hadn’t in moment of frustration or doubt.

When I look back at each of the dents in my shield, I don’t want to cling to the frustrations or failures that they might represent. I do want to look at them and see how God looked out for me and carried me through them.

This post is linked to Mrs. Matlock’s Alphabe Thursday
 

What is parenthood teaching you?

 

Pause Life for a Moment- Things I Can’t Say

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Pause Life for a Moment
 
 Shell of Things I Can’t Say is wonderful and it is hard to put into words how amazing she is. I met her in real life at the Type A Mom Conference last fall and she was as friendly, a personable and real as you would think she is after reading her posts. I went to the conference hoping to learn about blogging and I did. A lot of what I learned was from Shell. She is not a blogger who is guarded about the secrets to her success. Shell shared blogging insights I really needed to hear to move forward in blogging. I will be forever thankful that she is who she is and she shares it with others.
 
So much of my time as a mom, I was looking forward to an event in the future:
 
*When my baby would sleep through the night
 
*When my baby could walk
 
*When the next baby was born
 
*When the NEXT baby was born
 
*When all my boys are out of diapers
 
*When we’re past the stroller stage
 
*When all my boys are in school
 
Thinking everything would get simpler and easier.
 
Rush, rush, rush through all the frantic moments.
 
But then I take a good look at my boys. My oldest, who is finishing his first year of kindergarten. My middle, who just turned five. My BABY who is turning 3 in a few weeks.
 
And I realize that I don’t have babies any more. My boys are getting so big.
 
And I want to pause life for a moment.
 
Pause it while they still fit in my lap.
 
Pause it while they still want me to tuck them in at night.
 
Pause it while they still want to hug me in front of their friends.

 

Pause it while they think I’m the most beautiful girl in the world.
 
Pause it while they are my little boys.
 
Time is moving fast enough. I don’t need to wish away their childhoods, just to get to the “easy” stuff.

 

 Something tells me it’s not going to be easy, anyway.

 
So, I’d like to pause life for a moment and enjoy my babies. I just won’t call them that where they can hear.
 
Please stop by Things I Can’t Say and let Shell know how much you have enjoyed this post. 

 

 
 
 

 

 

Childhood Gifts- Flowers for Mom

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Dear JDaniel-

You love that you stoop down and gather dandelions for me. I love watching you trot over to deposit them in my waiting hand. The fact that you bring them to me like cherished gifts makes them all the more special.

I have to remember to tuck them carefully behind my ear or wrap them around a belt loop of my jeans so that I won’t lose them. They can fall so easily to the ground. I want you to know that I value the gifts you have bestowed on me.

You have spoiled me. We have been able to have so much time together just the two of us so much while I have been home with you. We spend many days stuck like glue sharing memories and building dreams.

I fear that just like the seeds of these precious golden flowers you will someday be blown in millions of different directions. I am not ready for you to get old enough to take flight begin to look for new places to take root and grow.

I cling to the fact you are only three and that we have years to be together collecting flowers and sharing time to console myself. Time seems to be spending up though. You are quickly leaving toddlerhood behind. Each day there are more “big boy” things you are doing. You are so much more independent in your thoughts and deeds.

Instead of focusing on the days to come what I need to do is cherish each dandelion you give me and display it proudly knowing that it was given out of love.

Love Always,

Mama

What part of your life seems to be flying by?

 
 
 

Communicating Clear Ideas About Mother’s Day

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I was so excited when my first Mother’s Day arrived. I had only been a mom for three months and I was totally into being JDaniel’s mom. Although my husband helped out when he was home, I had decided  I needed to do as much a possible on my own. For all I was and was doing I thought Mother’s Day should be a celebration of me.

JDaniel slept very little at night. He seemed to want to nurse all night and sleep all day. So, I was up almost all night and tried to sleep when he sleep during the day.

Diapers were quickly filled and changed due to all the nursing.

He loved to be sung too. I sang him every church hymn, show tune, and children’s song I could think off.

He had gas a lot so; I patted his back for hours.

I was making tons of mistakes as a first time mom. During spare moments I read articles online with my husband at my side to try to weed through the good and bad advice.

Mother’s Day

My mom lived in the same town we did and I knew we were going to need to celebrate her motherhood along with my own. I made arrangements to go a Chinese restaurant, because she wanted Chinese food. I asked her about the best time to take her and she mentioned lunch time would be great.

It turned out to be a bad time for JDaniel. He wanted to be held the whole time we were at the restaurant by only his mama. He won’t let my husband or my mom hold him at all. After that was established as the way it was going to be, they went for multiple visits to the buffet and relished the great selection of foods they were eating.

What was I doing? Well, I sat in a vinyl booth holding the strong willed yet lovable baby that had allowed me to become a mama waiting for my husband to return with my lunch. Then I tried to eat while my son stared up at me with his bright blue eyes plotting when to cry next. The thought that was flying through my head was why wasn’t enjoying Mother’s Day as much as my husband and mom seemed to be.

During the car ride home, I felt frustrated and slightly bent of shape. Mother’s Day didn’t seemed be about me. In fact it seemed to be about every mom except me.

Far From the Perfect Gift

I did get a Mother’s Day gift from my husband and JDaniel that was supposed to show me that I was special. Instead of making me feel cherished it added to my frustration. My wonderful husband decided I needed an electric toothbrush for Mother’s Day. It would save me time and effort. He loved his and decided I would love one too.

It was a wonderful thought. It just didn’t go over well.

Gaining Perspective and Questions

By the end of the day I was sending frantic prayers to God. I desperately wanted to enjoy the final moments of Mother’s Day and not dwell on my perceived disappointments.

In the quiet hours before midnight holding JDaniel in my arms and trying get him to go to sleep I received an answer. It came in a series of questions to ask myself.

What did I expect from Mother’s Day?

Had a shared my expectations with my husband?

Beyond taking my mom to lunch had I shown her that she was cherished?

Did my husband have a gift ideas shared with him so that he would have an idea of what I would like?

Had I shown appreciation for the gift he had selected?

Didn’t having a perfect yet ornery baby in my forties make everyday Mother’s Day?

I went to sleep that night pondering these questions along with praying for JDaniel to sleep.

Second Year Better Than the First

The following Mother’s Day I did a much better job of communicating with my husband about Mother’s Day. Somehow knowing that I had shared what I wanted and hoped for made it a much better day.

How do you handle Mother’s Day at your house?

This post is linked to Mrs. Matlock’s Alphabe Thursday!

 
  



Why I Should Win The Type A Celebrity Contest!

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I decided that I would love to attend the Type A Conference in Asheville again this year. Last year I convinced my husband the Type A Conference was a couples getaway weekend where we will spend a weekend living like celebrities. We would get stay in a luxury hotel with cable television. We don’t have cable at our house. We would get to sleep in past a six a.m. call inquiring whether it was morning. In fact one of us could sleep all day if he liked without any interruptions just like a star. There would be meals consumed without a small wandering hand trying to retrieve the last piece of food on our plates. A world class nanny would watch our angel and keep him entertained. My sister came with her two sons from Atlanta to watch him.

I didn’t want to pay for the conference again if I could find another way. The other way arrived a few weeks ago via e-mail. The e-mail invited me to apply for the Type A Celebrity Contest. The e-mail warned that I would have to work hard to win this celebrity challenge. Every up and coming star has to work hard to arrive at their pinnacle of success. I was going to need to work hard to reach the foot of the Appalachians in Asheville.

The first task is to convince masses that I am celebrity material. I am really not sure that I can do that. Celebrities always seem to have sleek new cars and my car is seven years old. Celebrities seem to get manicures and pedicures. The last time my fingers received even a coat of nail polish on them was before JDaniel was born. Celebrities seem to stay ahead of the fashion trends. I got stuck in the preppy trend of the early eighties and never left there. Celebrities jet off to fantastic exotic islands in the Pacific to get a break from the world on small private planes. I did jet off to Paducah, Kentucky in a small prop plane to do technology trainings once. The Drury Inn in Paducah did have great hot chocolate that I consumed while relaxing in a recliner in my hotel room after a meal from the Jimmy Dean restaurant next door but, I am not sure it is the same.

The second part of the first task is to convince you I am most like a certain celebrity. I sat beside for a long time and tried to think of a celebrity that had a lifestyle that mirrored mine and I couldn’t think of one. I am sure there are some out there. The only celebrities I have even heard of recently were on the covers of the gossip magazines at the grocery store. My life doesn’t seem to mirror theirs so, I guess I am going to have to hope the 32 other contestants don’t have brilliant answers for the second part of this task.

The third part of the first task is to tell you what I would do if I were a celebrity for a day. The answer is super simple. I would want to be able to sleep in without an early morning wake up call. I would want to eat food I didn’t have to prepare and that is slyly removed from my plate by a toddler hand. I would receive a swag bag filled with marvelous treats that would make me feel special. Oh! I would go on a mountain retreat to hang out with blogging world celebrities that would be totally paid for.

I know this post doesn’t prove that I am meant to win this contest. I hope that it proves that I am stay at blogging mom that would love a pampered weekend away from home. While I believe that every blogging mom needs a pampered weekend away to learn amongst the stars, I hope I will get to be the one.

Don’t you think I should win?

 
 
 
 

Sunday Sleeping Lead to Silently Listening to My Husband and Son

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On Sunday afternoon I decided to take a nap when JDaniel did. My sinuses were driving me crazy and I has sneezed or coughed during most of church that morning.

I must have been in a hard sleep. I totally missed JDaniel’s screams for mama that fill the house when he wakes up from his nap. (He hasn’t figured out that he can get out of bed yet. He just sits there and screams for me until I come.) What did cause me to wake up was the pounding of feet down the steps and sounds of his voice coming from the kitchen.

I glanced up and noticed that my husband had closed the bedroom door so I could sleep without interruption . No one outside the door would know that I was awake. If I lay quietly without making a sound, I would be able to have a few more moments of quiet time to myself.

Then I felt my first bodily betrayal. I sneezed. I tried to quiet the sneeze by sneezing into my pillow. Yes, that was gross idea. I silently slid over to my husband’s pillow and listened for the sound of little feet to come to the bedroom door. There was silence.

It is strange to lay there in quiet of the bedroom and hear all the noises of a toddler as he moves around the house. After JDaniel inhaled a snack, I heard a loud crash in the living room. Oh! The trains were now dumped out all over the floor. I knew that wood on wood sound when I heard it.

Then there was a patter of feet to the bedroom door. He must have listened at the door and not heard anything because there was another patter of feet away from the door a few second later.

A second crash came from the living room. This time there were squeaks and groans along with the bang. The toy basket must have been dumped out too. Stuffer animals with squeakers, toy instruments and other assorted toys were now spilled out next to the trains. The idea of this growing mess was hard to fathom. I was sure my husband had come downstairs with him. Where had he gone? There weren’t any exchanges of conversation about needing to clean up before mom saw this mess or inquires as to what was going on. Just silence and then loud crashes filled the air.

I didn’t hear my husband’s voice until the phone rang. I heard a shuffling of penny loafers to the phone and a conversation with his friend Jeff begin. I was glad to know he was still downstairs.

It was at that moment my body decided to betray me a second time. It told me in very certain terms that I needed to get up and use the restroom or I was going to need to change the sheets soon.

I quietly tiptoed to the bathroom and used the toilet. Then I tried to flush quietly, but you really can’t flush quietly.

As I left the bathroom, the knob on the bedroom door started to jiggle and shake. A voice from the other side of the door demanded that I help open the bedroom door. “I need you!” the voice exclaimed.

I did what every mom would do. I opened the door and let my son rush in.

It was so worth it to have him rush into my arms and say, “I missed you.”

I asked if dad had done a good job getting him up and giving him snack. “He was great!” he said. I was please to hear that. “But I really missed you!” he continued.

It is great my husband took care of getting JDaniel up from his nap. It was great to get some quiet time to just lie in bed. More than anything it was great to be missed.

This post is linked to Mrs. Matlock’s Alphabe Thursday and The Writer’s Workshop.
 
 
 
 

I Crumbled While Making Cookies

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Last Monday I invited my friend Bridget and her daughter over for a play date and to decorate Valentine’s Day cookies. Before they arrived I decided to make the cookies and have them ready to decorate. JDaniel was watching The Cat in the Hat on television this meant I could make them without “help.”

As soon as I had the cookie ingredients mixed in the bowl, a patter of feet headed toward the kitchen. Before I could rush the dough out of the bowl and start rolling it out, I felt a plastic stepstool being knocked against my leg. “Move over Mom! I want to help you,” JDaniel announced. Apparently the Cat in the Hat had lost his attention.

I moved over and showed him what I was doing.

“I am trying to roll this dough out and cut it into hearts,” I explained.

“I need to taste!” he replied. I pinched off some of the dough and gave him a little bit.

“I will need more, please,” he told me. I gave him a little more and then started to roll the dough again.

Giving him little bits seemed like a good idea. It wasn’t a good idea. He kept trying to reach in the bowl and get more as I rolled out the dough and cut out the cookies.

I got more and more frustrated. He got more and more indignant about wanting the dough.

Thankfully my friend Bridget arrived on the scene with her daughter before the battle had really escalated.

When she saw the battle over the dough, she calmly picked up a spoon I had laying on the counter and filled it with dough.

“If you want this, you will need to go sit in your chair at the table,” she told JDaniel.

He walked right over to the table and climbed up in his chair. Once he had taken his seat, she handed JDaniel the spoon. He sat silently he licked the dough off the spoon while I finished getting the next batch of cookies in the oven.

“This happens at my house all the time,” Bridget said. “Really the best thing to do is give him his own ball of dough and let him play with it at the table.”

Why didn’t I think of that?

Why did I turn it into a battle?

Thankfully Bridget bakes often and she has gained experience on how to entertain her daughter while she cooks.

I don’t bake often, but I still should have known better.

I wish I hadn’t made a rookie baking mistake in front of her, but know what I will do next time I bake.

We did have fun decorating the cookies though.

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This post is being linked up to Mama Kat’s Writing Workshop. 
 

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