some random Emory stuff...

just for posterity's sake...

Her favorite color used to be blue, but now it is red (just like momma).

She loves the wind (just like momma).

She loves raspberry yogurt (just like momma).

I feel this incredible pressure to be an amazing woman because all of the sudden I feel my daughter's eyes on me ALL THE TIME. She needs my attention all the time. She seeks my approval all the time. She wants to know what I enjoy all the time. She wants to tell me what is on her mind all the time.

We've hit a growth spurt, and for a while this momma was forcing a precious girl right back into clothes that are too small. Til I read this, and it all became clear. I no longer do things FOR her but WITH her instead. This slows me down and is cramping my style. I feel like we are at an important crossroads. I can either brush her off because I have more on my plate than ever these days, or I can embrace this new stage of development in our relationship, pray like mad for the physical, mental, and emotional energy to meet her new needs, and draw her closer to me.

And, I can't do this well at all. I realized I've been praying for God to make me sufficient in and of myself to meet her new needs so that I wouldn't need Him anymore. But, things were getting worse instead of better and we were finding ourselves in a place where we didn't even like each other. Til I read this, and cracked down a bit - on her and me.

In my busyness, I no longer look for the easiest way to get her pacified. I stop what I am doing to train her. Sometimes this looks like fun playtime or helping mommy with a chore, and sometimes it is actual discipline. The kind where we take a trip to momma's bed for a come to Jesus meeting. This is taking incredible self discipline - not to react emotionally, to either sin or childish antics, to put off my "to-do" list until naptime, to let getting the laundry started take a half hour because she is helping me, to be willing to finish up after kids are down for the night, to never really be done with the housework for the day. I am thoroughly convinced that I will not say "I wish I had done more laundry" on my deathbed. However, I was on a fast track to saying, "I wish I had been kinder to my daughter and enjoyed her more." in my last days.

Here's to soaking up the blessing of my girl. She blesses me by making me laugh until my sides hurt, by renewing the way I see the world, by causing me to let go a little bit more of my own rightgeousness and claim Christ's all the more. I am so thankful for her.

isn't it sad...

that I can't order Ethan's stocking from Land's End until I make Eric get the Christmas stuff out of storage because I don't remember what we already have?

Ch-Ch-Ch-Chia!

I'm dying to idols all around me. My idol to have clean children, a clean house, and to be clean myself. I think I took a shower on Sunday, but it might have been Saturday, I can't really remember. And I know I didn't participate in any hair removal during that particular shower, so who knows how long it has been since I have shaved. When I woke up this morning, I actually put the same clothes back on that I wore all day yesterday. Why not? I'm really hoping I can get to the gym today is what I tell myself to make it seem okay. And somehow I made it to 6:00pm yesterday with only consuming 3 cups of coffee and an apple. How is it that I still have weight to lose?

Emory slept without panties last night because there was not a clean pair to be found. I would have just turned the pair she had on inside out and put them back on her, but there were (ahem) good reasons not to. And, if I had put her in one of her brothers diapers, which I actually think would fit her, I would have added another year to the therapy I already know she'll be undergoing when she is 30. Hopefully the way I pulled her hair back for school today disguises the yogurt in her hair from breakfast yesterday. And the syrup smell from breakfast today might cover up any B.O. she has from not getting a bath after playing in a playplace and sweating profusely last night.

I'm pretty sure Ethan dirtied his diaper on the way home from dropping Emory off at school, but he was asleep and I have things to do (like blog!) so he's in the bed with an unchecked and unchanged diaper. I would have never done that to Emory. He'll be ok. Arbonne makes a great diaper cream.

For now I'm off the take care of the penicillin growing in the bathroom, make the beds, locate all the dirty burp clothes to wash (along with some Cinderella panties!) so I can stop using paper towels when I feed Ethan, and maybe, just maybe eat something.

Happy Tuesday!

waking Emory up from a nap...

...never bodes well, unless we are headed out the door. Today she refused to sleep at a reasonable time and finally crashed at 4:00. Now the dilema is when to wake her up so that she isn't up until midnight. I chose 5:30, thinking that she should have had sufficient sleep by then to not be "hung over". WRONG! After almost half an hour of tears, we finally got her calmed down enough to eat dinner... in my lap. Afterwards she perked up a bit and even "let" her daddy give her a bath. She helped me bathe Ethan and then cheerfully retired to her room for books with daddy.

She had asked if I would make Ethan's bath a quick one so that I could read stories with her and her daddy. I tried, I really did, but we were about 30 minutes out from Ethan's bedtime and he is always cranky and somewhat inconsolable at that point. Too tired to be a part of the family happenings, but not yet tired enough for bed. Being a baby must be so hard....

I had told Emory while we were bathing Ethan that I thought it best not to look at books after lights out tonight since it seemed she might need some extra rest. At the time she seemed to accept this pretty well. However, when daddy was turning out the lights and putting the books back on the shelf she tearfully asked why she couldn't have books. He reminded her that I had said she needed extra rest. "But, I thought you said I could.", she tried. "No baby, I agree with mommy." She tried another tactic, "But you said yes to something!" Poor, poor little girl. Being three-years-old must be awfully hard too... Come to think of it, 32 ain't no walk in the park either!

the manners jar...

... I am so sick of reminding Emory to say, "yes ma'am" or "please" or to get her to answer a question the first time I ask it. Or to give me an answer other than "I don't know." We've been kind of hemmin'and hawin' around here as to what the best approach to this would be. I'm terribly uncomfortable with some sort of discipline because it is not really outright defiance. It is a preference for me that my daughter have good manners. But, I am sick, sick, sick of reminding her of what her manners should be. So sick, in fact, that at lunch I had to walk away lest I lose the ole' temper.

Sooooo, after talking to my husband, we've decided to take a positive approach to this issue. Emory potty-trained in a week because we used M&M's.... this kid has a serious sweet tooth! So, I just happened to have a bag in the house that were originally destined for Uncle Wayne in Afganistan. We'll get him another bag, this one has a different purpose. We sat Emory on the couch and explained that every time she is caught using good manners she will get 1 M&M.

Every time I call her name and she finds me with a happy heart and a "yes ma'am" she gets an M&M. Every time she answers a question the first time it is asked she gets an M&M. Every time she uses a polite word - please, thank you, yes ma'am, no ma'am - she gets an M&M. We practiced a couple of times to show her what we were talking about and she was all about this new idea.

Ahhh... I feel a burden lifting off my shoulders already. This gives her the responsibility to remember her manners on her own and I am freed up from the broken record of reminding her - I simply won't do it anymore. Yet, I get to rejoice with her in a tangible way when she does remember. Now, the goal is for me to remember to catch her using good manners so I can rejoice with her. How long will she get a reward? As long as it takes for this to fully become a habit - just like potty training.

I Corinithians 13 - Mommy style...

1 If I can understand the needs of my infant, but I meet those needs begrudgingly, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

2 If I crack the code of what the kids will eat for dinner tonight, and trust that they will clean their plates, but gripe in my heart about the extra work, I am nothing.

3 If I share my Cherry Coke Zero, and cuddle the tired three-year-old, but am irritated by the interruption, I gain nothing.

4 Love answers that question one more time with a sweet attitude. It does not wish for what it thinks other kids act like, is does not flaunt the time spent planning cool art projects for the kids,

5 it does not demand in anger to be respected, it willingly plays hide-and-seek one more time, it does not flip it's lid when the toddler spills an entire box of Frosted Flakes while playing store, it truly forgives when the three-year-old asks forgiveness for disobedience yet again.

6 Love does not give that extra swat just because it is tired of disciplining for the same thing over and over, it is grieved for their child's struggle with sin.

7 It always removes temptation, always gives the benefit of the doubt, always assumes the best, never says it is too tired.

And because this is such a tall order for us frail, exhausted mommas... thank goodness for Philippians 4:13 - I can get up at 5:30, change one more diaper, fix one more bottle, read one more book, build one more tower, play one more game of chase, fix breakfast, fix snack, fix lunch, fix snack again, fix dinner while holding a baby, smile at my husband when he comes home, engage in conversation at the dinner table, chase the kids to the bathtub, giggle at silly books before bed, and get one more glass of water just when I was about to sit down through Him who gives me strength!

a few Emmy-isms

Tonight during family worship:

Dear God, thank you for Jesus, God, frogs, and candy. Especially all the candy in the world.


And, as daddy was leaving for music practice tonight:

Emory - I love it when you have deacon duty, Daddy.

Daddy - I don't have it this week, baby.

Emory - On Monday?

Daddy - No.

Emory - On Tuesday?

Daddy - No.

Emory - On Threeday?