The good comes with the bad. Apparently.

I'm trying the Blogger app to see if perhaps it might help me to post things from my phone in a more timely manner. It's amazing how as a mom (or maybe as anyone, but I only know what I know) time just flies by. And all those blog posts that I meant to post in a timely fashion are now irrelevant. I know, I know. I should have tried this app sooner. We will see how it works out! 

Today is one of those days that I could label a really sucky day. Yesterday morning the blower on our furnace went out. Not only is it not my idea of a fun way to spend $430, it's also not a thrill to be without air conditioning on the two hottest days of the year so far. (Why should I be complaining when at least I HAVE air-conditioning? I know. I am so pampered.) 

And so, the HVAC guy was supposed to come fix the furnace between noon and five today. Of course, he came at 5:15. So we were house bound, in an increasingly sweltering house, all afternoon, longing for just a quick dip in the pool or a whiff of conditioned air to soothe our sweat-caked bodies.   

While I sat withering on the couch (unable to do housework--or anything else productive--because of the heat), the kids' creativity came to the rescue. They put on a play, complete with Meredith announcing an intermission and a set change. The play was a very funny rendition of The Frog Prince--mostly funny because Meredith gave Sophia (who was the frog) all of her cues and Sophia dutifully obeyed. 

I got everything on video. What a precious moment with my three girls. The good comes with the bad. Usually days aren't all good (it's a fallen world after all) or all bad (God's grace is evident everywhere), but life happens somewhere in the middle. May I continue to see the good every day. Unless, of course, I die of a heat stroke in my own home first!

And here are my favorite actresses in the world: 

Singing Soph

Who knew that life begins at the age of four? I didn't know this until I had a three year old with two older siblings who get to do everything but she can't because she doesn't make the age cut-off. It's been trying for her to help drop off the big sisters every day at VBS this week, with all the loud, exciting music happening on stage, knowing that she can't stay too. The good news is that her life will begin in six months!

Today Sophia, Carson, and I went to visit a friend who is moving to Texas soon. Sophia is just the easiest little kid I have ever met. She is so content to play by herself or to play quietly. She is such a joy and she is my little friend. I love being her mom!

Sophia's three favorite things in the whole world are: 1) dressing pretty (she has always been excited by a new pair of shoes, and wants to wear dress shoes everywhere); 2) riding her bike every day; and 3) music. She sings and sings and sings, wherever we are. The other day we pulled up to a playground. She could see the play equipment from her car seat. Kevin was driving and he was about to turn off the ignition when Sophia asked, in her sweet voice, "Can we please stay in the car a few more minutes to hear more music?" She wasn't done listening to her songs yet!

 

 

 

Halfway around the sun ...

Our little sport is six months old.  Six months is the golden age of babyhood, isn't it?  They just sit there, or lay there, and coo and smile back at you.  They don't move around and destroy stuff and they are usually sleeping through the night.  Pure, chubby, smiley cuteness in a diaper!  We sure do enjoy baby Carson a lot.  He is a very easy going baby so far.  He has to be, with three big sisters handling him all day, right?  And, since he is #4, we don't have the luxury of planning our whole day around naps.  So he is an expert power-napper, getting what he can take in his stroller and car seat most days.    

Carson is a very social baby.  He totally eats up all the attention he gets all day.  He "talks"/babbles a lot and he is very LOUD.  He is very content to play with his toys and hasn't really tried to move around and explore.  He loves his oatmeal cereal, sweet potatoes, and mashed bananas.  How I love to dress him up!  (Who says little boy clothes aren't as fun as girls' clothes?)  We are enamored with him and so glad he is part of this family!  We love you baby Carson!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do I look perfect?

We women are really good at comparing ourselves to other women.

I often look at one particular lady I know who always seems so put together and wonder why I can’t be more like that. One of the last times I saw this lady—let’s call her Suzy—I was at the library stuffing books into the bottom of my stroller. My rear end was probably stuck up in the air, in a very unladylike manner, while I was shoving the books in, and Sophia was clamoring for my attention, and the baby was fussing. I really didn't know where Clara was at the moment. She was probably over by the computers. Again. Even though I told her we needed to go home. Sigh. I made a mental note that, after soothing the baby, and trying to help Sophia with whatever she needed, I would have to go track down Clara again.

Then I stood up, my hair probably flying in all directions, and there was Suzy, with her two girls. Suzy’s hair looked perfectly combed, with a nice part on the side. Her kids looked particularly clean and neat. And I noticed how they were both standing obediently by Suzy’s side, with slight smiles on their faces. Suzy had her library book bag hung on her shoulder, with all her books stacked neatly in a row therein. It was a far cry from my disheveled stroller. Of course, I had forgotten to bring a bag.

“Hi, Suzy. Good to see you,” I lied. In fact, Suzy, you are are a reminder to me of how imperfect I am.

Sigh.

My only consolation is that I probably have a lot more fun that Suzy. Being perfect is probably boring. At least that is what I’m going to tell myself.

However, there is someone else—let’s call her Jane—who does think I’m perfect. And, she tells me this a lot. In PUBLIC. In front of other women. And it embarrasses me like crazy. I know, very well, that I’m not perfect. I hardly know this lady (which is why she thinks I’m perfect) and if she ever dropped by my house she would probably realize how frazzled I am half the time.

When I am with her, there are usually other women around and she always is singing my praises, about how organized I am, and how good my children are, and blah, blah, blah.

What am I supposed to say to this? I’ve already said, “No, not really,” like a thousand times.

I think the problem is that, at the current time, things are not going very well for Jane and she is feeling like a failure. So it’s easy for her to see other women who appear (yes, just appear) to have their act together and wonder why they can’t be that way.

Hey, that sounds like me with Suzy.

The reality is, none of us are doing everything. And we are definitely not doing everything perfectly. We are all good at some things and not-so-gifted at some things. We need to be easier on ourselves. We need to stop criticizing ourselves so much and feeling like a failure. Where we need to improve, we need to be realistic, and work on it as best as we can. But, at the end of the day we need to give ourselves grace.  God gives us lots of grace, but we have a hard time giving ourselves grace most days.

In the meantime, I will smile and wave at Suzy. Hopefully from a distance. And I will try to encourage Jane.  And I will try to continue to keep it real.

On the Nightstand and the iPod

At any given moment, you will find a book (okay, right now there are probably eight books) on my nightstand and you will also find a book on my iPod.  I love being challenged in my thinking.  I love a good story.  And I just love words, plain and simple.  

Sitting on my nightstand right now is a novel called The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh.  I just finished it but it makes me smile when I look at it because it was such a great story, so I don't really want to take it back to the library yet.

This novel really moved me.  Each flower has a distinct meaning and message, whether positive or negative.  Once upon a time, the language of flowers was more commonly known of and more commonly used.  The author cites old flower dictionaries and has her own in the back of the book.  This novel explores the meaning of flowers and relates their meaning(s) to the events that take place in the novel.  It is narrated by someone who has aged out of a group home and is seeking to find healing and forgiveness.  It is a book about emptiness, human relationships, and hope for the future.  It also raises questions about someone with loveless past being able to heal and move forward.

I don't think I will look at flowers the same ever again. There is something deeper and more mysterious about them now and it intrigues me.  I loved this book!  

After taking a break from the classics after Carson was born (okay, I took a break from a lot of things after he was born), I started back by loading The Return of the Native on my iPod.  The author, Thomas Hardy, is apparently known as a landscape writer.  Just as there are landscape paintings, there is landscape literature.  He writes evocative descriptions about the estate and surrounding land in his novel.  I have to say I had a hard time getting into this one at first but now that I am in the throes of it, I'm hooked.  

When Kevin asked me what this book is about, I summarized it for him.  We both remarked that a lot of classic literature--or at least the stuff I've been reading in the past months--centers on a heroine who is discontent in her marriage and has an affair!  And these books are written by MEN. Seriously.  Of the last four classic books I've read, three have been about adulterous women (Madame Bovary, Anna Karenina, and now The Return of the Native).  I think I'm ready for a new genre, people!! I'm reading these books in chronological order.  What does it say about the time period they were written in, I wonder?  The authors are from France, Russia, and England, respectively.  Hmmmm.  I will have to think on this some more ... 

Zinnias

Carson sat in his Bumbo seat and watched while I turned over and raked a small patch of dirt behind our house.  This section of ground was chosen because it gets lots of sun and also because I can't see it from any of the windows in my house.  If I could see the flowers from, say, my living room window, I wouldn't want to pick them and bring them inside.  No.  These flowers are meant to be paired with a vase and placed on the counter top.  I can't wait!

As I slowly dropped little zinnia seeds into the earth, I was reminded that last year, and the year before, I wanted to plant zinnias but wasn't able to do it.  There just wasn't enough time or energy, despite all my desire.   

So it was with a light heart that I realized that I'm at a place now where I can plant zinnias.  

As I pinched more seeds from the envelope, I determined that when the zinnias are in bloom and I pick them for my table, I will also pick a vase for a mom who is perhaps in the same place I have been these last two years: wishing and hopeful, but with all her time and energy already mortgaged out for other necessary tasks.  

Planting zinnias also reminded me of Sally Clarkson's No More Desperate Moms Resolution.  Hopefully the latter of the two resolutions is something I can remember as I move beyond the current season of life, to keep on encouraging people who are still in the middle of it, with zinnias or otherwise.  

Today I enjoyed the planting, the time with my little son, the sunshine on my back, the dirt between my fingers, and a little more room in my life to breathe!

Now I just hope I can keep up with the watering and weeding.  (Or get my kids to do it!)  Then things will really be golden, right?

Road Trip to Branson

Several years ago we drove to a beach house in North Carolina and, at the end of the road trip, we wanted to keel over and die.  Meredith was three and Clara was 14 months and it was insane.  We constantly were handing them toys and trying to entertain them in the car.  It was exhausting.  This time, on a road trip to Branson to meet up with my parents for a mini-vacation, the kids were such troupers!  We turned on an audio book and handed a doll to Sophia and they never complained once.  Sophia is the best three year old traveler in the world.  Carson did great and only cried about getting in his car seat toward the very end of the trip.  

On road trips, business for daddy doesn't always stop.  We left our house at 4:00 a.m. and planned a long stop at 10:00 a.m. so Kevin could make a telephonic court appearance.  So, here are Clara and Carson waiting patiently, so Kevin could have complete silence in the car. You gotta love these modern times. 

We were thrilled to see my parents, who live so very far away.  We miss them lots.  It's wonderful that the kids feel so close to their maternal grandparents, and talk about them often, despite the distance.  But visiting in person is the best.  My dad treated us to the "Joseph" production at Sight and Sound theater.  It was pretty awesome.  I was impressed by the dream scenes and the production's display of the grandeur of Egypt.  The voice talent was also incredible.

The girls' great-grandpa, whom I hear reads this blog sometimes ("Hi, grandpa!"), gave the kids each $10.  Since I am always telling them, "No, you can't have that today," they were thrilled.  They felt like they were millionaires.  

We also went to Silver Dollar City, where there was something fun for everyone.  

This was the first time Sophia remembers going to a theme park and she especially loved the rides. Here is my dad crammed into the little elephant ride with her.  Sophia always tells us, "I love baby animals," and she especially loves baby elephants, so this was a dream come true for her.  

My youngest sister, Melissa, was there too, and also my grandma who lives in southwest Missouri.  Kevin, Melissa and I took off for the afternoon to go ride all the big rides.  It was so fun to be carefree and ride roller coasters for an afternoon, let me tell ya.  If you want anything to snap you out of your stay-at-home mom life, where you take four little kids with you everywhere you go (nothing is fast and quick and spontaneous), roller-coaster hopping with two other big people is a pretty good solution.  The BEST and most crazy roller coaster was a new wooden coaster called the Outlaw Run.  CRAZY TIMES.  Even Kevin screamed the whole way.  I started screaming and I couldn't stop screaming.  Then at the end I started laughing and I couldn't stop laughing for like five minutes.  There was one point in the ride where we started dropping and then it felt like we were going down at an inverted diagonal, and then we were spun into what seemed like a jillion cork screws. Crazy, crazy. Here we are.  We survived!

Of course, kids rides are fun too.  We like it all.

On Sunday after visiting a cowboy church (yes, can you believe we did that?), we went for a nature walk at a local dam and then to a fish hatchery nearby.  I really had no idea how fish hatcheries work and it was interesting to learn.  

The kids thought it was great fun to feed the fish!

Here we are, putzing around Branson, after eating at a diner where the servers would periodically burst out in song.  Someone said that Branson is like a Christian Las Vegas.  That pretty much sums it up perfectly. 

 

By the end of the trip, Carson was pretty sleep deprived.  He is such an easy baby right now.  Clara propped him up on the hotel bed and he put himself to sleep.  

The view of the Ozarks from the hotel porch was gorgeous.  It was fun to eat breakfast out there.  We also enjoyed the dessert bar every night! 

Grandpa and Grandma Williams with baby Carson.

Clara spent some of her money from great-grandpa at Cracker Barrel.  We are big Cracker Barrel people, especially on road trips.  

Taking this little spring trip was just what we needed.  We really needed the break!  It was good to get away, see my family, and have some fun with the kids!   

Purple Cookies

In a recent post I mentioned quality time.  Clara and I are just alike in this area.  She loves nothing more than when I give her my undivided attention.

The other day Clara asked me if I would play a game with her.  I told her, trying to suppress thoughts of everything else I needed to do, “Sure. How about UNO?”

“Yes!  I love UNO!”

Ten seconds later she asked if we could also have a special dessert after dinner.

“Well, it’s already 5:00 p.m.,” I said. “I don’t know if we have time for UNO and making a dessert.  Which one do you want to do?”

It was a no-brainer.  I don’t even know why I asked.  Clara would rather have sugar than air to breathe.  

“Mom, have you ever dyed chocolate chip cookes?,” she asked.

“Why, no.  I haven’t.  But there’s always a first time for everything.”

Purple was her color of choice.  Sprinkles were added for additional flair.  This experience brought her mounds of happiness and delight.

Apparently showing love is sometimes just a matter of dyeing chocolate chip cookies purple.

 

 

 

Time, Not Stuff

Please don’t get me a Mother’s Day gift. 

Yes, I mean it.  Seriously.

Kevin and I just had this conversation last night.  I knew he would have to work the Saturday morning before Mother’s Day—thus is the life of a person with a very deadline oriented job—and I really didn’t want him spending all afternoon away from me, too, looking for a gift. 

“Please don’t go buy me something I probably don’t need and probably don’t want.  Just come home and hang out with me.” 

Actually, I asked him to help me pick up the house because we are hosting Mother’s Day, with our immediate family and another family whose mom is here from out of town. 

The best way you can love me, honey, is to VACUUM.

I think there is something to the five love languages theory.  Although the example of vacuuming would be an act of service, what I really love is spending time with the people I love, especially if it means experiencing something new with them.

I don’t want more stuff.  I like clean lines and I hate clutter and if I really need something I can probably just go buy it myself.  What I really value is experiences.  Experiences are way more important to me than things.  Time is valuable, and scarce, and so when someone shares it with me, that really speaks to me. 

If you insist on giving me something, then what I would really like is a note or a homemade card from the kids.  Homemade cards are the best. 

So, hang out with me.  Go on random adventures with me.  It can be a small thing or a big thing [someday I want to ride a hot air balloon, by the way].  Let’s experience life together.  

A Prize that Counts

I sat on the edge of my seat at Meredith’s end-of-year recitation program yesterday.  The speaker was about to announce the winners of the cursive penmanship contest.

Meredith wanted to win so badly.  One boy and one girl would be chosen from each class in the lower school.  She had worked painstakingly to make sure all her cursive letters touched all the proper lines on the paper and had all the right slants.  After her work was complete, she walked around the room and carefully scrutinized all the other kids’ handwriting.  Later she told me, “I think I’m going to win!”  She also told me which boy in her class she thought would win. 

I told her that I was proud of her, regardless of what happened, because she had worked so hard all year long and had learned so much.  I was hoping she wouldn't be crushed but knew this might be the life lesson she needed to learn. 

“By the way, what do you get if you win?” I asked.

“I get a ribbon.  I have never gotten a ribbon before.  Well, we got one in gymnastics but that didn't count because EVERYONE got one.”  Kids are smarter than we give them credit for.

The speaker at the program said, “And for the second grade class, the winner is …. Meredith Koons.” 

She beamed out at the crowd, with her little side pony tail bouncing as she walked up the stage to receive her prize.

And, lo and behold, the boy she predicted would win, also won.

Sometimes it’s easy to get caught up with helping our kids overcome their academic weaknesses.  But, as I clapped loudly for her, it was good to help Meredith celebrate her strength. She has an eye for the beautiful.  She is a good artist.  She is a perfectionist and she loves copying things.    

It has been a pleasure to see Meredith flourish at the Highlands Latin School.  She is exactly where she needs to be.

And my kindergartner, my sweet Clara, has been home with me this year.  She has also been exactly where she needed to be.  Clara has come a long way as well and it has been so rewarding to see her grow in every way. 

I am thankful that God guides us in all these things.  Sometimes we don’t know what the right course is, but I know He always helps to direct us when we seek Him.  Parenting choices can be difficult.  And I’m sure we are not out of the woods yet!

You live, you learn

Imagine me at the kitchen sink, washing cilantro, when daughter "A" bursts into the room full of ardor and excitement.  Her dreams have come true. Finally, the birthday party that her friend has talked about for months, the one with the Panda Bear theme, and the pizza, and the games, and best of all the slumber party element, has come to fruition.  An invitation has arrived, complete with a smiling panda bear head on it.  

If you know my kids, you know that they live for birthday parties.  They start planning their own birthday parties 364 days before the event.  

And then it dawns on her.  Just yesterday, her other good friend invited her to a birthday slumber party.  And can you believe it, it's the SAME DAY.    She has only been to one birthday slumber party in her whole life.  So, this is a big deal.  Now she has to miss out on one of them.  How can she possibly choose?

Hmmmmm. These are the incidents of life that spawn conversations between a mom and her girl.  How do you choose?  How about diplomacy?  Not volunteering information is different from lying.  You can tell girl #1 you can't attend her party without telling her that you picked girl #2's party over hers.  How can we best avoid hurt feelings and girl drama?

Flash forward a few minutes.  The cilantro made it to the fridge, but is barely below room temperature at this point.  

Three kids burst through the door offering to wash my car.  "Where are the supplies, Mrs. Koons?"

Well, that's nice kids.  But despite the fact that my car does need washing, I don't know if you are the people up for the task.  (I imagined streaks of dirt and Windex running down the side of my van.)  

Speaking of which ...  Why do you want to wash my car at this particular moment?  

What?!!  Daughter "B" did what?!!!!  She painted neon green nail polish on my van?!!!!

All of this might have been easier to handle if I had not just finished my utterly exhausting weekly Costco/Super Target circuit (yes, with three kids in tow) and all I wanted to do was take five.

Daughter "B" was promptly sent to her room while I investigated.  Thankfully she had painted on the glass.  A stupid choice, but not as bad as it could have been. 

It boils down to this.  My children will learn to govern themselves, by displaying that they can make wise choices, or I am going to have to keep on being the main person to govern them.  (And, I do expect that at their tender ages, that will generally be the case, anyway!  But daughter "B" is definitely old enough to have known better.)  So, daughter "B" is going to have to stay by my side for the next two days--no playtime with friends, which will be excruciating for her--so I can monitor her choices and she can earn back my trust.  

Because, at this time of the year, the neighborhood kids all roam freely in the common area behind our backyard, not playing with friends for two days is a big deal.  She acted like I told her she'd have to skip Christmas. 

These life lessons can be hard to learn sometimes.  Yes, there were tears.  But if they are not learned now, they will be more painful to learn as an adult.  

Now, what am I going to do with all this quality time with my girl for the next 48 hours? Other than talk about good choices and supervise her cleaning green nail polish off the van window?