Mash's Day

Two years ago today I had one of the best days of my life. 

Surrounded by my husband, mother, sister, and aunt, I birthed a little girl.

For the rest of the day she laid on my chest and we slept. There was no where else in the world I wanted to be. I can still remember her scent. The sweet noises she made as she learned to nurse. 

That night in the quiet dark hospital room felt like a holy moment. It was just the two of us (nevermind the sleeping husband and hospital staff that came in every half-hour). I drifted in and out of sleep but every time I woke I felt overwhelmed with peaceful gladness as I fed and changed her, and wrapped her up to hold. I can still feel the stillness of the room as I told my Father thank you with tears streaming down. 

Two years earlier her brother plowed the way through my selfish heart and formed a mother out of me. This time there was no shock or surprise. I had already given up my rights.
I was ready to simply love. 

Since that day she has carried with her the gift of joy.

She blesses me more than I could ever deserve.  

Home Remedy: Learning to Live with Scorpions

For those of us blessed by the unavoidable company of scorpions, I've compiled a list. Not a list of extermination techniques (which I've lost all faith in) but a list for those more advanced in the grief process. Those of us who have made it to the stage of acceptance.
These are my methods to make their company more bearable during what I call the "high season."
The season when the spawns of satan storm your home and war is declared.

1. Always shake out your bath towel before you dry off. 

2. Always check the sheets in your bed and under your pillows before you get in. 

3. Never leave clothes on the floor. If you do, assume there is one in there when you pick them up.

4. Wear gardening gloves while sorting laundry.

5. Don't sleep under air conditioning vents.

6. Keep a pair of flip flops by the bed in case you have to walk at night (through the minefields).

6. The most important tip is this: When several run-ins leave you feeling frazzled and doomed, remember the times you've been stung. You survived. It was painful but not life-threatening.
The following self talk helps: "I am bigger than the scorpions. I am strong.
I will not live my life in fear. Low season will come again."

Taking steps to avoid interaction with the evil creatures as well as mentally putting them in their place is the way to peaceful co-existence. 

My heart goes out to those with severe infestations (those who put their beds on cinder blocks and surround the cinder blocks with sticky traps so they can sleep safely). 

Maybe you could accidentally leave your fry daddy on when you go out of town for the weekend.

And a disclaimer: The previous advice is given for those living with non-poisonous scorpions. Also, it is very dangerous for an infant to be bitten by any type of scorpion. 
Consider sending them to Grandma's until they're two. 

Mother's Day Gifts

The thing I love most about my son is that he is so much like me. Passionate and sensitive. Always thinking. Always questioning. He's a kindred spirit I connect with on a deep level.

The thing I love most about my daughter is that she is so different than me. Carefree. Almost always cheerful and affectionate. She's a light cool healing breeze to my soul.

Thank you Lord for these precious people. I see you in them.

Story Time with Silas

Everyday when I put Silas down for a nap he gets a story. (unless he got down from his room during nap time the day before, then he misses out. It actually keeps him pretty motivated to stay in bed!)

Silas tells me what the story will be about that day and I take his inspiration and run with it. The first story started something like this: We were jumping on the bed and it crashed through the floor and went down, down, down through the white stuff to the bottom! 

Hmm, interesting. I can work with this.

I begin the tale: Me, you and Mash were jumping on the bed and it crashed through the floor and went through the white stuff (what the white stuff is or 30% of his content I'll never know) and landed in a dark cave in the Land Down Under. Then we saw a dog walk up to us. He said Welcome to the Land Down Under! And we said WHHHAAAT??? A talking dog?? And he said What do you mean a talking dog? All animals talk in the Land Down Under! He told us his name was Mr. McGruff and showed us the door out of the cave. We looked around at beautiful rolling green hills and valleys. Then we decided we were all VEEEERRRRRYYY sleepy and we were worried that we couldn't get back home (the trick here is leaving suspense for the next day's story). Mr McGruff overheard our conversation and said Let me show you the way! He led us to an elevator with a big button that read Our Home. We piled in the elevator and Silas pushed the big button. We went up up up and when the door opened, we were in Silas' room. His closet was the elevator! 

They're very short and they always end with me letting out a big fake yawn and everyone napping. And I've found that 4-year-old standards are quite low so even on my tired lame story telling days he has a big smile on his face.

But it's really fun to let our minds run free and see what we can think of. Along the way I usually find a way to slip in valuable subliminal messages about things like bravery, forgiveness, or him protecting his sister.

Sometimes we go to the Land Down Under where we might ride a tiger over the hills or Silas and Mash might swim in the upside down swimming pool for KIDS ONLY. 

Or there's the Land Up High where Grassy the flamingo lives and the clouds are trampolines and you have to slide down a giant blue swirly slide to get back to Silas' closet. 

Or Daddy drives too fast and we fly out of the car and roll all the way to Cowyifornia and let the waves chase us. Or we jump too high on the bed and crash through the window and roll to Oklahoma and ride horses with cowboys (rolling places or falling through floors are his plot lines of choice).

Looks like all that imagination propaganda from my early years is finally paying off.