Unique Dadda

The other day I read something on Facebook that made me sad.  A friend's husband wrote something along the lines of "Wife and Kid free this weekend! Here's to being a Bachelor." Then friends responded as they tend to do. One of the responses said something like, "...unfortunately I do have my son this weekend." 

Man! How does that resonate with you?  With me, it makes me feel so sad for the wives and children of those guys. Why would any man be happy to be away from the love of his life and away from his own flesh and blood.

I am so absolutely blessed to have Cory.  God must have known something I didn't when he was playing lil' match maker eight...no wait...nearly ten years ago.  He knew I needed a man that would be an active dad. A dad who knew how to change diapers, prepare favorite meals, give baths, do laundry and be true partner to me.  Cory is such a wonderful dad to these two lil' boogers.  I don't think I have ever heard him say anything in regards to being grateful that we aren't around. He actually hates being away from us all.  Perhaps Cory isn't like the normal guy. Okay. Actually, that isn't any new. Cory isn't your typical guy. 

And because of that I love him more than words can say.

Mary...

One of my favorite Christmas songs is Mark Lowry's "Mary, Did You Know?"

With all the anticipation of Christmas and our own hard work in making sure that Christmas is really about the celebration of Jesus's birthday---and not a generous, jolly ol' elf...Bethany wanted to dress up to be Mary.  

She's a pretty adorable Mary, if I do say so myself.

Anyway, back to my original point. Have you heard that song.  I think being a mother it brings a totally different perspective to the whole Jesus's birthday thing.  I now think about Christmas through the Mommy Lens.  Do you have a Mommy lens? If not...all you do is think through it from Mary's perspective. 

 Sure she knew she was blessed with Son of God.  But my heart breaks when I think about the end of Jesus's life. Did Mary know about THAT from the get-go?  Did she realize just how miraculous and significant of an event was taking place & that her whole life has completely changed directions.  I know that I, for one, tend to underplay events in life & not truly realize their significance until time has passed and I am an outsider looking back. 

Then I wonder, how much did she anticipate the end of Jesus's life. Was she dwelling on it (like, ahem, I know some people might).  Did she cry for him? Did she worry for him? Did she lose sleep at night knowing the inevitable?

For being such a joyous and emotional event....just how much did Mary consider when she as she was holding the brand new baby Messiah?

 

I am grateful for Mary.  What a super strong woman....having been so young & yet so instrumental in the salvation of billions of people.

(btw...I am sure the REAL Mary never dragged her baby brother around by his arms...ahem...we certainly would never let this Mary do it either...)

Accepting Help

My two kids:

While they tend to often do the same exact things....especially at the exact same time. Whether it is to sit in the same chair, read books on the time-out step (voluntarily, mind you) or climb up the stairs taking "bites" out of the steps along the way (gross!)...they are certainly two-of-a-kind.

So, even though they are so similar at sometimes...there are times where these two goobers couldn't be any more different than night and day themselves. 

Bethany never had and rarely ever does question us when we suggest what is the best choice or what is the best situtation for her.  She typically always allows us to help her to get through her every-day-run-of-the-mill life happenings.  I think, she knows we have her best interests in heart and that we will not lead her astray.  Owen, however, that is a different story.

Couple of days ago, I took the two kiddos to the swimming pool by myself.  All is good. Bethany and Owen love playing in the kiddie section and they just eat up all the interactive spraying & dumping things.   After an hour in this section, we decided to venture off into the big, deep part of the pool.  Owen was donning his "backpack" (the rest of us call it a life jacket) which helps me feel 100% better in regards to his safety.  I carry them both into the deep section and lead them to this underwater bench-like-ledge where they can easily walk and still be above water.  Bethany is a master when it comes to this pool & knows to watch the blue lines on the edge of the ledge. She can see where the ledge ends and the water drops a good 3 more feet. 

Owen...well, he hasn't quite figured out how to navigate that treturous terrain.  I, being the great mother than I am, decided to just guide my son with a nice, loving hand gently holding on to the back of his life vest.  Owen hates this.  He hates the fact that I am ever-so-lightly holding on to him while he is navigating this foreign-to-him territory.  I am a good 3 feet taller than this lil' man. From my perspective, I can see the big picture.  I know where the ledge drops and where he will, for sure, lose his footing and drop into the deep end.  I understand the consequences of not having your head above water.   Owen, though, he doesn't.  He just knows that he is a big boy.  He sees his 3-year-old sister walking on the ledge unassisted and thinks he should be able to do that too.  Regardless of what is ultimately good for him, he squeals and fusses and swats away any of my attempts of assisting him.  He, after all, is a good 19 months old now.  He is a big boy and doesn't need any help from his ol' mama.

I can't help but see some parallels w/ Owen and the pool and Life in general.  Sometimes {all the time, actually} I ask God for help--help to get through something, help to decide something, help to comfort someone.  While I was helping my own son through a watery situation, I wondered to myself, "how often do I squawk and swat away the helping hand of God?"  Sure, I think I know what is best for me.  I, after all, have been here a good 30 years and I've seen a lot.  Perhaps, I do know what is best for me. Why would I need to stop and listen to what God is saying...

Silly isn't it?

Why do people do that? Why do we, being creatures of limited mind, swat away the help of someone all-knowing and all-loving.  Who only what is the best for us?  Who would give the world for us? Does that even make sense?  So while Owen is screaming, at this point, because I insisted on picking him up after he took those last two steps off the ledge and into the deep end; I quietly talked to God and made him a deal...

Not only will I continue to ask for his help...but now...now I will actually start listening and accepting what he has to say...