Acridophobia

It has a name. The insane, irrational fear that I feel when coming into contact with a grasshopper or one of it's freakish cousins, the crickets, or worse the katydids. Apparently, this fear also includes locusts, but I wouldn't know, having never seen one that wasn't an empty shell perched on the trunk of a tree. I wasn't scared of those, but the living bug might be a different story. I am too much of a scaredy-cat to google the image of one to find out.

Last night, a cricket managed to find its way into our house. I spied it late in the evening, lounging on one of my curtains. I thought it might be a roach and neared the window for a closer look, bent on identifying, and promptly squishing the intruder with my flip-flop (world's best bug killer). Kevin observed as I was nearing the window that it seemed like more of a cricket. I froze... "really?" Fear. Of the intensely irrational kind. I slowly moved toward the curtain for confirmation. Yep, cricket. I skittered to the bathroom and locked the door, Kevin's chuckle following behind me. He smacked the cricket, but said it was possible he had just knocked it off the curtain, and not actually killed it. I went up to bed, then-- it seemed like the perfect time.

Cricket forgotten this morning, I went about my day. I made breakfast, grocery shopped, did the dishes, and then filled up the little plastic pool we have for the hot Texas months, turning the boys loose into the backyard to prepare lunch. Judah popped his head in at one point, and I looked down at the floor, ready to shoo him away for dripping water into the kitchen, when I saw it: there, on the floor (and very much alive) was the cricket from yesterday. Icy fear again clutched my heart and my eyes widened. "Judah, look! (gulp) A cricket!" Judah grins, and looks down. I weigh the options, now... ask my 4 year old to kill it (Oh, how much of a wuss AM I?) Kill it myself? (Grimace...) Leave it alone and give it a wide berth? (Most unlikely option). I quickly opted to kill it myself. With surprising speed I grabbed a flip flop, and with what was part battle cry, part terrified, girly shriek, I leaped at the cricket and smashed him with my shoe, jumping backwards about 5 feet very quickly just in case I missed him. I needn't have worried. With the amount of force I put behind that swat, that was the flattest bug I have ever seen. VICTORY!!!

Take, THAT acridophobia!

My thoughts: One year and 5 days

Our daughter, Annie Elizabeth is one year old. That is 12 months-- which in many ways, is a relatively short time, and yet I marvel at how much has changed. Today is April 17, which means that she is actually 1 year and 5 days old. A year and 5 days worth of bows and pink, and a near constant joy that I have been given a partner-in-crime... another girl in this blessed, loud, testosterone-charged home. My daughter. It is still wonderful to say the words-- my DAUGHTER. God has given me the desire of my heart.

You see, it isn't that I don't adore my little men. Words cannot express the pride, the tender affection, the fierce joy and love I have for my boys. But that is a different entry altogether.

To mother a daughter... well, I truly longed for that. I think it is because I have had for such a long time now, a heart for young women-- to see them fall in love with the Lord-- to believe what He says about who they are, instead of what the world cheaply sells them. I want to teach them what I have learned the hard way, so their road will be smoother than mine. I want to help them embrace their God-given roles with joy and awe... Plus there is the simple fact that I AM a woman. I naturally do princesses and fairies and ballet... I have had to learn to love soccer and t-ball and match-box cars and transformers.

What a responsibility! Motherhood. Parenthood.

Annie is feminine, already--dainty, even. She is sensitive, and happy, and affectionate. She is very, very much a little girl. And this precious daughter that I prayed for will soon be in need of what I now (after my 3rd baby) refer to as "actual parenting." Soon, she will need discipline. She will learn to share, learn her colors, her letters, her animal sounds (those are very important)... and as she does, she will learn the most important thing I can give her. The Word of God. Something she can stand on when sometime in the not-too-distant future, her world falls apart--because it will. I cannot protect her, as much as I wish I could, from this world. Jesus promises us in John 16:33 "In this world, you will have troubles. But take heart, for I have overcome the world." I can bank on the fact that she will suffer. That her tender heart will more than likely at one point or another, be broken. But from now until that happens, I can prepare her to fall into the arms of the One who loves her when she is undone. I will teach her of His goodness. I will teach her of His grace, and His mercy--of His unfailing love. I will tell her the stories of the faith of our fathers, the faith of the mighty women who have gone before us. And I will also cling to the promise that God gives to us in Isaiah 55 that says His word will not come back void, but will accomplish that which He has purposed for it.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow. May He give me the grace to mother my daughter well.

Kids say the darndest things...

I asked Canaan yesterday if he could have any pet, which he would choose. Confused, he wondered aloud what a pet IS. I told him it was an animal you keep at your home with you as part of your family. You feed it, and care for it. We then talked about how Eskimo, our dog, was our pet. Canaan cocked his head, thoughtfully musing over his choice. Then, without preamble, he declares, "A pig." Alright, sure-- so far so good. Pigs are animals, so categorically we're in alignment. Then a small smile lights his face as he begins to elaborate. "A ROBOT pig. That turns into a car! And makes noises like this-snort snort when it transforms!" At this, Canaan drops to all fours and snorts like a pig, then purrs like an engine. I love this kid.

Just now I put him to bed for a nap, and he said to me, "Mom, our eyes are for seeing." I replied affirmatively. "Our mouths are for talking." Smiling at the randomness of the conversation, I asked him what our noses were for, already waiting to confirm his answer of "smelling" or "breathing." Without a moment's pause, he answered confidently, "Sneezing."

3 years old

My sweet Canaan Andrew is 3! He was supposed to have a very small gathering of family and friends to celebrate his birthday last weekend, but Dad got the flu. We pushed it back to THIS Friday-- but he and Judah got the flu! We had a small immediate family celebration instead, and on Saturday, we are planning to go to the Monster Trucks-- provided they are healthy enough. Though, I think they will be fine by then.


He is such a special little boy-- he is so kind, and imaginative and caring. He loves his family, and his friends, and tells us all the time. He is super smart, surprising me constantly by picking up everything I teach Judah. His favorite thing right now is to tell me all the letters on the signs we see as we drive, and ask me what they spell (Example: "Look, Mom! S-H-E-L-L. There's 2 L's! They match! What does it say?"). He likes to learn, he loves cars and trucks, toy story, super heroes, and most recently transformers.

He prays nightly for our friend Noelle in Haiti, and thanks Jesus for dying on the cross for our sins. A family in our church recently lost their son to cancer. We had been praying for him, and for his family. When the Lord took him home, we told Judah and Canaan, and explained how even though Brandon was in Heaven, his parents were still sad, because they will miss him. Canaan asked if he could hug them at church on Sunday, and then he prayed that they wouldn't be sad, and thanked God that Brandon got a new body in Heaven.

I love him so much, and am so grateful that God has given him to us.

Flu boys

Kevin got he flu last week. He began feeling poorly on Wednesday night, and Friday morning at the doctor, it was confirmed that he had type A flu. He came home, got into bed, and I moved out to the game room to inhabit the comfy green couch. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday I was his cautious nurse, bringing food and medicine (and absolutely zero contact!), then quickly escaping to the "healthy part of the house" with a joking, "Call me!" hollered over my shoulder as I hastily shut the door behind me.

Feeling better, but still not 100%, Kevin left town for the Desiring God conference in Minnesota on Sunday evening. 3 hours later Judah began to cough and run a fever, and my heart sank. He was sent to the flu room (my bedroom), and I remained on the couch. Tamiflu administered the next morning, I remained optimistic that we could contain the virus... until Canaan began to cough and run a temperature that evening. Judah vomited a couple times (both of them no where near the toilet-- bedroom carpet, and then in the bed), ran 103 fever, and Canaan's began climbing during the night.

Mom came to rescue Annie yesterday and kept her away from the germs all day. She returned her to me at bedtime, and came for her this morning again. Praise GOD she is still healthy. It looks as though the worst is behind us... Judah is not running a fever today, and Canaan's is much lower. I am allowing quiet play in the game room today, and Judah is content (having been stuck in bed the past two days) to have the company and some toys to play with. He is by far the most high maintenance patient. The tamiflu is apparently not very tasty, and he throws an all out fit every time he has to take it. Cries, protests, and looks at me like I am the WORST mother EVER for making him take it. He will hold it in his mouth shaking his head, and looking panicked and betrayed, like he can't decide what to do with it. Finally, he will grab his drink swallow. 5 doses to go... Canaan takes his like a man, swallowing it with a face and saying, "yuck." It takes 2 seconds.

Kevin returns today. Thank Jesus. And I am going to a day spa. Bahahaha!

Steamboat Springs

This January, my parents oh-so-generously took Kevin and I, plus our 3 children on a winter vacation. We sojourned to Steamboat Springs Colorado for an unforgettable week of wintry amusements--skiing, tubing, ice skating, snowmobiling, and even a dog sled. We stayed in the Taj Majal of condos, too (3 stories, panoramic views of the slopes... Seriously, the place was ridiculous. Judah asked if we could live there.

Judah attacked each activity with his signature enthusiasm and fervor. When we ice skated, he tried valiantly to stay upright on his own, then gratefully accepted one of the trainers they had for young children. He was great after that, his little feet moving like an egg beater as he "skated" (ran) all around the ice. He skied without lessons at first, and displayed determination (and no fear) as he rode up the magic carpet and let loose down a bunny slope, unable to stop. He had a great time, and went to ski school the next day. At the day's end, his instructor literally had to lift him off the slope and guide him towards Kevin-- he was having so much fun he didn't want to stop. (I asked him if he made any friends in ski school, and he said he had-- a girl. He said he asked her if he could marry her when they both grew up and she said yes. I asked her name, and he couldn't remember. Sigh.)

Canaan did not enjoy the slopes like his big brother. We strapped on his skis, and walked into the snow where he promptly fell and started crying to go back into our hotel. We conceded-- he is a little young after all. However, he loved tubing! At the first place we went, he tubed in our laps, but at the second, all by himself in a tube down that big old hill! He said it was his favorite part of the trip. He also really enjoyed snowmobiling-- I have heard all about this part, since I stayed behind with Annie (who was too little to snowmobile). He went with Kevin, and I guess they tipped the big machine over into a snow drift--Kev landing on top of Canaan. The snow was so deep, no one was hurt but Canaan was pretty deep in the snow--shocked and tearful. (This makes me giggle a lot. Is that bad?) They said up until the spill, Canaan had been urging Kevin to go "Faster, Daddy!!" Afterwards, he whined "Slow down, Daddy!" and "I want Mommy!"...and then he fell asleep.


Annie checking out the plane out the airport window

Annie got her own thrill seeking done-- she tubed down the snow hill in our laps, and she also went on a dog sled! The guides said she was the youngest child they had ever taken out. She slept through much of it (come to think of it so did Canaan-- even Judah slept through about half of it). She was SUCH a trooper though. It was COLD, and she went along with everything like a champ. The first time I put her in her snowsuit, she lay there on the floor paralyzed by the downy bulk, and looking like and adorable, pink, beached whale. It was hilarious...still is, when I think about it.


Kevin showing his mad skills.


Kevin and I loved everything-- but we really enjoyed skiing. It was my first time, and only his second. We will be telling our ski stories for years to come-- how I fell in a snowbank and couldn't find my pole for 5 minutes, how the green was closed part way down and we had to unexpectedly ride down a blue for a bit, how the trail was ambiguous in places and we had to ski across a blue/black to find the rest of the green...




My father, who is 57, skied for the first time in his life, too. And boy was he ever bitten by the ski bug-- to say that he enjoyed himself is a gross understatement. After he managed the ski lift and his first green slope, he was elated-- he has his own ski stories to share. Kevin and my dad skied together down the green slope by our hotel and my dad wiped out--big time. Kevin called out, "Jon, are you hurt?" Papa's response, "Yes." (Insert giggle here.) After a few minutes of righting himself and deciding he was fit enough to continue, he finished the hill. And then skied the whole next day, too. His battle wound beat the rest of ours to pieces, though-- 3 days later, his arm--from mid bi-cep to mid forearm-- was a gigantic, purpley bruise.

Momma got out there too-- she strapped on my skis, and took a run down one of the practice slopes. She crashed on purpose before colliding with the magic carpet, but proudly claimed to have skied, too. Her real shining moment though, was apparently on the snow mobiles... she was gunning hers and pealing with laughter as she pushed it to its limit. As the only member of the family that did not have a little child riding with her, she could afford to be less conservative in her driving.

It was the most unbelievable trip, and we will never forget it! What a fun and incredible memory to have made with my little family and my parents. I am so thankful!

Blog-fail

Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm behind at least 2 months-- Christmas has come and gone, along with New Years, and...well, January. Suffice it to say that keeping up with my blog was NOT one of my New Year's resolutions... not that I made them.

So I am just going to pretend like we're all caught up, and then 4 or 5 years from now, I will look back and wonder what happened to December 2010. Oh, well.