Raising my Girl

Baby girl is so much fun. She always wants to play. And she plays very well with others and by herself too. Many times I find her in her room playing with her baby dolls and her rose petal cottage.

She has a little routine every night before she goes to bed as well.

After we brush our teeth and wash our face, and plays in "babba's" room for a bit she goes into her room and she begins by washing her hands, because she is a very clean child :)

She then takes each of her baby dolls and puts them in bed. She usually rocks one to sleep, another might have to go into the corner because "baby bad" and once she gets everyone into bed she then begins to take out the laundry in her little dryer and after it's all out, she puts it all back in.

She checks the oven. And then she goes and has a serves me some coffee (we are hispanicm we don't drink tea at night, we drink coffee :)

And once all of that is done, we read a book, pray and go to bed.

She does this every night.

You know the funny thing is that I never showed her how to do all this, atleast not intentionally.

But even as young as two she watches me. She helps me load and unload the laundry and even the dishes. She watches me cook and clean. She pretends to be a little mommy with her dolls as she rocks and sings to them just as I do to her.

It's almost innate, but also very much learned. She learns it all from me.

I am raising a beautiful little girl. A sweet, lovely little lady. And I want so much from her. I want her to be a good homemaker. I want her to enjoy serving others, serving her family now and her future family. I want her to be content with her calling of wife and mother.

I want that for her as much as I want that for myself, if not more.

The truth is that I struggle with this calling of mine at times. I struggle keeping the house in order all the time. I struggle with the mundane chores. I struggle finding contentment of being mom all day and night! I love it. But there are days when I would rather stay in bed and not want to be needed for everything.

And so everyday I pray that the Lord will help me to find fulfilment and joy in my calling. That there will be a newness to each day and a sweet content every day.

And I pray that my daughter will see the joy of it all and that she will learn from me and desire such a calling in her own life. And that she will do it so much better than I.

"Father thank you for this precious ministry of mine. To minister and serve my husband and children is wnderful work and I thank you for filling my cup each day. Father help me be a good example  to my children. Allow me to speak softly and sweetly, so that they can see that the jo I have is from you and because of them. Help me to find joy and contentment in all I do.In  your precious name, Amen

Linking up at Raising Homemakers...come by for some great encouragement for the beautiful calling of keeping your home.

Precious Sights

I just left my son to be put to bed by his father.

It was a rather precious sight and I wish with every ounce of me that I could capture that moment on film.

Just snap away and keep it with me.

Crazy kid is a big boy for his age I guess. One pound for all 37 inches of him. Most days I think, "My goodness child you are so big," especially when I haven't gotten any smaller and when trying to carry said 37 lbs. up the stairs because he fell asleep in the car is quite a challenge.

But today, I looked at him and thought, "He is still so small." His head reaches the door knob.

I watched my husband sit down on the rocker and my son jump into his lap, he looked so small and precious. Of course not anything like those first few months of tinyness, but still small.

He curled up in his father's lap and rested his head on his chest.

Oh my.

He is so independant and very strong willed and sometimes, no, many times, throughout the day I have a hard time parenting. Many times I feel very unsuccessful at this whole mothering thing.

Sometimes I think life would be easier if he were one of those easy going kind of kids. He isn't. He has an opinion and he will not let up.

And then I think, I am gald he is so strong willed. It is a great trait and if we do a good job, maybe he will turn that into great confidence and a strong mind of his own that won't follow the crowd or be swayed in wrong directions.

And tonight as I looked at my two boys holding each other I thought, this kid is the best kid in the world. How long will he fit into his father's arms? Worse, how long will he want to fit into his father's arms? How long will he want mine?

He is so sweet and charming and funny. And he loves us. He loves me. And man, do I love him. I could never ask for anything better. And even though he may test me, his personality is making me into a better person. He teaches me more than I could teach him.

I could never ask for anything more.

"Father, thank you for my son. He is such a precious gift. Thank you for his personality, his spirit, his fun loving nature and his charm. Father I know I am not the best mom, no matter how much I try or even sometimes pretend to be, but I just figured out that even if I am not, he thinks I am. He teaches me things all day long and I thank you for that. Protect my baby, keep him small a little while longer and mostly, let me remember and treasure these moments forever. And let him grow into the man you desire him to be. In your precious name, Amen. "

One more minute

A while back I read an article that said to give your toddler time frames for activities. The article stated that whether they understood the concept of time or not, once it is introduced they will understand the idea that whatever they are engaged in will shortly end and they will need to move on to something else.

I thought this was a great idea.

At the time crazy kid was maybe about 18 months old or so and one of our big issues was bath time. He LOVES his bath and always has and so he wanted to stay in until he pruned up or longer.

I am all for a fun, long, warm bath because it usually ensures an easy bed time routine. At the time, however, getting out was trauma for the child.

After I read the article, I began to use the advice.

I would bathe him, wash his hair and then he was free to play for however long I decided. And when time was coming to a close, I would put up one finger and say, "Ok one more minute and then we are going to brush our teeth and put on our PJ's. Say yes mama." And he would reply, "Yes mama."

After a few times of doing this, he caught on and the transition from bath to bed became much easier.

Of course, not too long after I would say, "Ok baby it's almost time to get out," and he would quickly put up one finger. Soon after that he began to say, "One minit mama."

We learned our numbers and he realized he could add to the minutes and so now he demands two and sometimes even five minutes.

Luckily, though he understand the number sequence, he doesn't understand the length of a minute. I'm hoping that lasts a while for my sake.

This time element has been a good thing. We have fewer melt downs because it sort of prepares him for change in whatever it is he is doing. Sure, it doesn't work all the time but for the most part...

Tonight I was putting crazy to bed and I was in the rocker holding him. This has become somewhat harder, though my belly isn't protruding too much yet, it has come out some. It isn't awkward for him, but when 35lbs are on me, I tend to lose my breath easily, not to mention the heat the boy puts off.

But...I wanted to keep holding him. His little face was facing mine and I was singing to him and I kissed his soft, tanned little cheek and I just wanted to keep that moment.

Of course two seconds later he pushed off of me and asks for his father.

I kissed him and said, "Can you hold mama one more minute."

Just one more minute.

I didn't get my minute. I got a big hug and a kiss and he called for his dad.

Sometimes all I want is one more minute. Or maybe two or five.

"Father, thank you for the minutes. Thank you for blessing me with so many one minute moments. Thank you for my precious boy and all his antics and sayings and his sweet heart. And thank you for the minutes I will have with the one inside me. Father I ask that you help me to not only treasure the minutes, but to seek them out. Not to be overwhelmed by busyness, but to wait and look for the minutes in every day. In your precious name, Amen."

Change my heart

I reacted.
He hurt me and I threw out my hand.
I wasn't thinking.
I felt dreadful.
Talk about Mommy Dearest.
Before you know it my child is going to write a tell all book about how I neglected him by placing him infront of a TV all day and spanked him.

In my defense it was as close to the cute tushie as possible, but somehow ended up in the lower back area. It wasn't hard, but I was remorseful.

Now let me state here that I am a believer in spanking. We give "Pow-pow" in our home and we are advocates for the cause.

I know lots of books and teaching go against spanking, but I believe a good spanking and no nagging afterwards is a good form of discipline.

No, we do not just "hit." We have a system and spanking is only one form of our disicplining. We give one warning and then explain that he is going to receive "pow-pow." We bring him close, cup our hand and spank. Most times, if I just tap his little rear he will be upset. I then explain that he must obey the first time when he is asked to do or stop doing something.

Most of the time, after a spanking he is upset and so he goes off into a corner or another room with Bie and tete in hand. In a few minutes, sometimes seconds, he comes back and apologizes. "I sowy mom." I tell him it's ok but we need to obey and we need to pray and ask Jesus to change his heart.

Sometimes he says no. He can be very strong willed and is not ready to do things you ask. He eventually will come and sit with me and we pray.

Most of the time, he does it right away.

This time, I forgot the steps, warning and all. As soon as I did so, I got down on his level and quickly apologized and held him.

"Baby, mama was wrong for spanking so fast, but you can not hit mama like that (he had been running around and into the couch and as if a light went off in his head, he came and ran into me. Large head into my hip.) You must be careful when you play. I am sorry that I did not give you a warning but you really hurt mama."

He replies, "is ok mama. Jjus change mamas heart. AAAAmen."

"Dear Lord, change my heart. Keep changing it. Every day. Continuously. Even if I am defiant or being strong willed. Help me to be patient and not lose myself. Help me to forgive as easily as my son forgives. And to forget as he does. Father, grant me the wisdom to raise my child to be a man after your own heart. That you will take his precious prayers and change his heart so that he will grow to be like you. So he will surpass all that I am at a young age."

Confession

I have had very few quite times lately.

In fact, to be honest, the last time I had a quiet time was ummm...three weeks ago.

Pretty bad.

Let me list my excuses, because I have a few and it will make me feel better...

1. I'm tired.
2. I'm exhausted.
3. I'm growing a person.
4. My crazy kid is waking up around 6 everyday.
5. I'm nauseous.
6. I have very little energy. Like super little. Pint size. Munchkin little. (you get the picture).

Ok, yeah so those excuses pretty much stink but...I'm so tired!

The thing about it is that not only do I feel bad about it, but I know that my lack of reading and praying result my lack of patience and strength and of course my being open to mind attacks that say, "you're a bad mom," "you are neglecting your family," "how are you gonna deal with two if you can barely handle the one."

And though I fight those thoughts out, my heart hurts.

There's a twinge. Guilt. Sadness.

I hate that.

And what's worse, despite the fact that I have had very little communication with God other than, "God I'm tired," "God give me energy," "God make the nausea go away, PUHLEASE!!!" He is still so full of grace and mercy.

Crazy kid is two. He is strong willed and many times defiant. He is a charmer and hilarious at the same time. He throws fits, he likes having his way, he wants what he wants and he wants it NOW!

Since being pregnant, he has for the most part, held off on the tantrums. He really has been an angel. He has been so good and sweet and patient.

He has become all that I lack right now. Oh my.

He rarely complains about playing by himself. He doesn't mind me laying on the couch for a few hours as he watches TV. He hugs and kisses and even prays for me - "Jejus, help mommy's tummy. It hurts. Amen."

God why are you so good to me? It's not fair. I don't deserve that kind of love.

I'll be in my second trimester in about two weeks...

"Lord I'm hoping for a boost of energy at that time. I'm hoping for revitalization and strength. I'm asking lord for these next few months to be blessed and filled with fun and laughter. Thank you for your mercy and grace and for the precious child you have blessed me with and the other one you are working on. I trust that through all this not only are you teaching me, but you are teaching him and molding him to be a great big brother. You are so good to me."

For more stuff to tackle,, click here.

Security Objects

My son has a blanket. He loves his blanket. It is his "bie" (he possibly named it that since we at first referred to it as his blankie. He took out the "lank" and ended up with "bie.")

Lately, everytime we come home he immediatedly goes to "bie" and hugs it, kisses it and says, "I wove you, bie."



When his father was out of town for a week on business he began holding "bie" very close, putting it to his nose and smelling it.

And as of late, he wraps himself in it and pretends he is a baby. He begins crying and asking to be carried like an infant. A 34 lb. infant.




It is his beautiful, beloved "Bie."
His comfort, his friend.

When he is crying and frustrated, "Bie" makes him feel better. Comforted. Secure.

Some think it's cute. Other say I'm in trouble for letting him have a "comfort" object. I would think that most children have a security objects; Some have blankets, pacifiers, others have stuffed animals and I knew one sweet boy who would take his DVD's wherever he went. To them it is a piece of home, a comfort that is with them in this insecure world they are only begining to learn about and become a part of.

As adults, I ask myself, are we really much different? Don't we all have "security" objects? Perhaps not in the form of a blanket, but even still...Many of us are looking for security in so many different ways.

These "objects" make us feel better. Comforted. Secure.

How many times have I felt down, ugly, insecure? And to remedy my feelings I have been known to go out and buy new shoes, or jewelry or a shirt.

And I feel better. Comforted. Security comes in the form of patent leather and cotton.

How many times have I felt lonely or empty and I fill myself with ice cream or chocolate or bread.

And I feel quite full for a time afterwards. Comforted. Security comes in carbohydrates and sugar.

We all have times of struggles, where peace is gone, doubt reigns and all we desire is to be comforted - To be secure in who we are, what we have and where we are going.

Some of us search for that security and find it in our jobs, salaries, the attention of others, our children, spouses, comments on our blogs or even our church. We can search for it forever, but we will never find that comfort until we realize only God can give us the security we desire.

True security comes in trusting Him - His will, His plan, His purpose and His timing.

For so long I thought I trusted God. I believed He was my only comforter.

I was wrong.

I trusted Him with a few things, the things I knew I could not control even if I tried. I did not trust Him with the things I though I could control like my son, my husband, even my character. And because I hadn't given it all to Him, hadn't fully given myself to Him, I searched for security elsewhere, but couldn't find it. And soon, everything I trusted went away.

God placed me in a hard, empty pit and said, "Don't look to anyone but me. I'm here. I can save you. I have saved you. No one else can. Nothing else can. Not your husband, not your family. ME."

And I fought Him. I wanted the control so when things went well, I could get the praise and appreciation. And if things went wrong...it's easy to blame God. To say, "I thought you were in control." Truth - He won't take control if we don't let Him and actually entrust everything to Him.

We are taught that we can take care of ourselves, but we can't. Only God can. I had to learn some new lessons.

Now, when I walk into a room and feel unsure of who I am, I remember, "He is the lifter of my head (Psalms 3:3)."

When I feel unworthy or unattractive, I remember, "I am fearfully and wonderfully made (psalms 139:14)" by the One who made the heavens.

When I feel out of place, lost or even empty, I remember, He has purposed me "for such a time as this (Esther 4:14)" and He will fill me to overflowing (Psalms 23:5).

We all have struggles. Don't try to deny them, blame others for them or even try to fix them yourself. None of that works. Instead, go to your heavenly Father and tell Him.

"God I'm struggling. I'm fighting these feelings and thoughts constantly. I can't do this alone."

Go to the word and find truths. Fight your thoughts with scripture.

And remember, that "He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it (Phillipians 1:6)"

Lay it all before Him and find freedom and a new security in your Redeemer.