Monday, March 24, 2014


I have come to accept my role as the sole woman in the Anderson house on Elm Street.  I have come to accept that cleaning yellow stains off the bathroom floor will be my plight for a few more years.  I have come to accept that any conversation about bodily functions will produce much laughter.  I have come to accept that any movie with a superhero will be watched with awe while any movie with a princess will be watched with yawns and groans.

I have come to accept that I will step on Legos.  I have come to accept that any sort of ball will be thrown in the house.  I have come to accept that wrestling will teeter on boxing. 

I have come to accept the ridiculous questions people will ask about the size of our family.  And how busy we are.  And how loud we are. 

I have come to accept that these boys have stolen my heart and will likely break it one day (like when they leave the house for good or bring home a girl for me to meet).  I have come to accept that sleeping through the night is probably not going to happen for many, many years. I have come to accept that all I can really do for them is pray like a warrior doing battle.

Friday, March 14, 2014

Conversation with a Two-Year Old

The scene:  Target, Friday morning, women's clothing

Daniel:  I scared

Mom:  Of what, buddy?

Daniel:  Jesus 
            (cue woman in next aisle to begin laughing)

Mom:  Why are you scared of Jesus?

Daniel:  Jesus died on the cross
           (cue woman in next aisle to turn red with laughing)

Mom:  He did do that.  He loves you, Daniel.

Daniel:  Noooo, Jesus no love me
           ( cue woman to possibly wet herself)

Mom:  Yes, Jesus does love you

Daniel:  (singing)  The Bible tell me so.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Parenting Me

Chris was gone for the better part of a week recently.  That means a giant spotlight shines on my parenting inadequacies.  In the midst of a particularly challenging moment I was nearly brought to tears.  The Lord whispered in my ear, "He is just like you as a child."

And he is.

Just like me.

Hiding during chores, waiting for others to do what he can clearly do himself, so concerned about what others are doing and thinking and saying that he cannot possibly get his own work done, speaking without thinking, lashing out in anger, crying in frustration, lying to save himself from trouble, leaving his things strewn about, distracted so easily he cannot get ready for school in the morning without ten reminders...

And that scares me tremendously.

I perhaps turned out "okay" (the jury is still out on that) but that is only by a miracle.  I cannot expect two such miracles in my lifetime. Can I?

So I pray.  Fiercely calling on God to rescue him from himself.  To protect him from himself.  To equip me to mother a child who is so like me that I get frustrated and angry.  I give him a fullness of grace that overshadows all the other things. A heart that strives to please God, and God alone.