Good morning

Woke the little man this morning with a kiss and a back scratch. 
The usual: "up, down, over" directions started long before all the cobwebs were cleared. 

Scratch.  Direct.  Rub.

"No, Mom!  Scratch!"    Oops.  Pardon me, sir.

More directions:   "down, down, down".   Down to the perfect little boy bottom covered in tighty whities. 

"I am NOT scratching your bottom, mister!"  as I poked it with my finger. 

Giggling, he said, "That's not my botttom, Mama, those are my bottom boobs!" 

No, that's not a word we normally use. I've heard him say it before referring to my, um...lady parts....and have corrected him immediately, but this morning I didn't.  I laughed. 




I'm probably gonna regret that.

Change a life

   


 Spent a bit of time away from my guys this past weekend - first time ever being away from them both (at the same time) that I can recall!  Went to Atlanta with a group of 50-something gals from church to the Women of Faith Conference, where we heard several wonderful speakers:  Patsy Clairmont,  Andy Andrews, Anita Renfroe and MaryBeth Chapman to name a few.  Oh!  And music.  MUSIC!!  Oh my!! 
Mandisa - girl!  She is full of awesomesauce! 
Sandi Patti - no words can begin to describe the talent. 
And best of all:  Steven Curtis Chapman.  Oh my goodness....my heart just breaks with the beauty of the words and music he makes.

While at the conference, I learned about a program called World Vision.  We saw a very moving video about a woman who, through WV, had sponsored a child in Ethiopia.  This video and the words spoken afterward led me to make the decision to help out a child too.  I made my way to the World Vision table.  There,  I stood for a few minutes looking at the many, many photos of children from all parts of the globe that so need our help.  Many had eyes that were much older than their age.  In those eyes, I saw hopelessness and fear;   things no child should ever have to experience.

I asked for a child near Ben's age because I can't bear the thought that there are children out there, not much different than my baby, who are hungry or scared or hopeless.   So, after a few minutes of searching, I found our sponsor child.  He's 6 years old; he lives in Brazil with his mother and 4 siblings.  His name is Ruan.  

I came home with his profile in a folder, waiting for the right time to bring it up.  I want this to be something that I can do with Ben, to teach him how very blessed we are (he is) and so that he will know that not everyone is as fortunate.   Greg went upstairs to play his guitar (probably looking for a little down-time -- being the only entertainment to a very active son for the weekend will certainly wear a guy out!!)  I sat my sweet little boy next to me on the couch and told him I wanted to talk to him about something very important.  He sat still, listening as I told him about a little boy named Ruan that lives in Brazil.  We read his profile together.   We looked at his picture and we talked about the fact that Ruan and Ben are the same age, and probably likes to do some of the same things he does; but the big difference is that where our family has so much, his family has very little.
  
I asked him, "You know how when we go to the store, you sometimes say, 'Mama can I have this toy' and most of the time, I'll say yes?  Well, Ruan's Mom - even though she'd love to - probably can't do that."  

Then, after reading in the profile about Ruan's lack of food, I explained, "You know how when you ask me if you can have a snack after school, and I say sure?  Then you go to the cupboard and get whatever snack you want?  Well, Ruan isn't able to do that either because his family isn't able to afford much more than rice and beans."

I know that he probably doesn't entirely comprehend why he's able to have everything he needs/desires, when this little boy isn't,  but I know he got it.   As soon as I told him we were going to be sponsoring Ruan by sending our money to help, he got up and ran to his bedroom.  He went to his piggybank and brought back a handful of change and a dollar.  He said, "Can I send this?  Will this help?" 



I'd told Ben that one of the great things about sponsoring Ruan was that he could write letters and even send pictures to him.   So, we got out paper and pencil and these are the words Ben wrote to his new friend:

     Dear Ruan,
          My name is Ben.  I am six years old.   I live in Georgia.  That is in the United States. 
     We want to help you.  God loves you so much.  Please write me back.
     From:  Ben

Words written from my little boys heart, to another little boy half a world away. 




If you'd like to know more about World Vision, here's the link:   http://www.worldvision.org/
I can't wait to get started.  



"And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me."  Matthew 18:5 (NIV)

football

This snippet of conversation heard Saturday morning between Nana and Ben, on our way to Ben's Very First Ever(!) football game.  Topic?  Obviously: the upcoming game.   

Nana asked Ben, "Did you know your Daddy was a football player?" 

Ben:  "But I thought he was an Engineer!"

:)

Needed

There will come a day, I know, where I won't be as needed as I am now.  I see glimpses of the future from time to time:  Mr. Independent has been showing up more and more frequently at our house of late.   But occasionally, I'm still needed. 

My schedule at work allows me to be off on Monday and Friday (yeah, I know:  how awesome is that?) so, those days I get to take the short one to school.   I really enjoy being able to do that; I get to talk to him about his day, make plans for the evening, and most importantly - get a last minute hug and kiss that, I hope, will go with him all day.  

This morning was no different.  As we broke several speeding laws drove to the school, I told him I wasn't sure if I'd be able to walk him in (because we were running a little bit late and I'd have to find a place to park and I just didn't know if we'd make it in time, and, and, and!)    As it happened, we made excellent time driving like a bat out of hell.  As I was about to turn into the school entrance, he asked me if we were late.  I said no, we've got plenty of time (booyah!).  Then, the sweetest question:  Do we have time for you to walk me in? 
Oh, absolutely, sweetie!  

I'm still needed.  Whew.



"In all our contacts it is probably the sense of being really needed and wanted which gives us the greatest satisfaction and creates the most lasting bond."
Eleanor Roosevelt

Top this, 5-star restaurant!

Last night's supper was basically a 'Fend for Yourself' affair.  Leftovers, check: just heat 'em up yourself.  Well, except for Ben - even though he makes a mean scrambled egg (with supervision!) I didn't force him to fix his own supper...I'm not that bad of a mom!  Sheesh!
As I'd had a cup of coffee late in the afternoon that sort of took my appetite away, I didn't eat, thinking I'd just grab something a little later. ha

Probably an hour or so later, as we were sitting at the kitchen table working on spelling words, math problems and sight words, I decided to finally fix myself something to eat.  But, before I could throw anything together, something else came up and the opportunity for me to eat was lost.

More time passed.

Even later, at Ben's urging, we trudged outside to listen to the night sounds on the back porch - we had lots of rain this weekend; happy frogs make lots of noise!  After we'd oohed and ahhed over the frog songs, The Daddy said sweetly, "I have an idea! Why don't you go make us some chocolate chip cookies, Mama?" 
To which, The Son jumped up and down saying, "YES!  Cookies! Mama!? Make some cookies!?!"
I answered, "Um. I don't think so. I still haven't had supper.  Remember?  And besides, it's after 8.  No cookies tonight."   As I laughed maniacally and shuffled off into the dark woods...
The Daddy agreed, saying he didn't realize it was that late.  Well, not five seconds after that, Ben jumped up to go inside.  I peeked in on him to see what was so important that he had to run inside, only to find him in the kitchen - obviously up to something.  So, we waited.

A few minutes later, my baby boy walked outside with a little plate.  On that little plate was a sandwich and one of his snack bags of pre-cut apples with grapes.  He'd made my supper!   The sandwich?  Grape jelly and apricot preserves.  He said he'd looked for the peanut butter in the cupboard but couldn't find it, so he just used apricot preserves instead. 
After a quick hug, he rushed back inside to make me something to drink (and so Daddy could show him where the PB was).  He returned with my drink (and the PB) and stood there,  just beaming.

I lost it.

My sweet baby made my supper!

Daddy had to explain that Mom's tears were happy tears.  I told him it was the best sandwich I'd ever, ever had.  And it was. 

I love him. 



ps - this morning, as I helped him out of the shower, he said, "you're welcome for the supper last night" and gave me a warm, wet hug. 

You did WHAT??

Sitting on the couch Thursday night, long after the kiddo had gone to bed (and I presumed was fast asleep) I had a visitor.  He came walking into the living room in his underwear, crawled up on the couch with me, and said, "I can't sleep.  Can I sit with you?"  
Absolutely, baby.

So, after a few seconds of shuffling pillows, fleece blanket, Mom-parts and little boy-long-legs around - we're all comfy and snuggled in front of the tv.  I'd been watching something on the Food Network, enjoying the thoughts that, hey! I could totally do that - if I had all the time in the world, a chef's kitchen, unlimited resources and someone to clean up after me!!  (and a son that wouldn't turn his nose up at real food)
Well, I guess the show we were watching was bought and paid-for by Outback Steakhouse, because every commercial break included one from there.  We discussed how yummy the steak and shrimp looked, then decided that we would talk Daddy into taking us there for supper Friday night.  More snuggles n' cuddles and then it was back to bed for the little man. 
Fast-forward to Friday afternoon.   I had to make a mad dash to town before we went to out to eat,  so I picked Ben up after school and off we went.   We're about to get out of the car at the pharmacy when he informs me he'd had an 'accident' at school.  Now, this is something we've been dealing with for a looonnng time.  I think we have it licked, then it happens again.  I just don't understand it at all.  Well, this day, I may have over-reacted.  A little.  Ahem.

I couldn't believe it.  We'd (meaning: he'd) done so well over the summer - a few accidents here and there, but for the most part, clean as a whistle.  I've heard boys are at times tough to potty-train, but, geesh!  He's 6 now!  Potty-training has been over for years!   I've come to the conclusion that he tries to ignore the urge.  Ignore.Ignore.Ignore.  Oops!  Can't ignore anymore.  Then, to top it off, when he can't ignore it anymore and he has an accident, he doesn't bother to tell anyone.  Not that it's much of a secret anyway! 
So, I was Angry Mommy.   As we got out of the car and walked into the pharmacy, I threatened him to within an inch of his life with the ever popular: ifyouevensteponetoeawayfrommesohelpmeI'mgonna.......!!  
We made our purchases and back out the door we went.  

In the car on the way to meet Daddy, he was Mr. Chatterbox in the backseat.  I still fumed in the front seat.   Terse, one-word answers from me, interspersed with a few Ican'tbelieveyoudiditagain! and whatonearthwereyouthinking? spoken through clenched teeth...it doesn't take a rocket scientist...he knew I was NOT HAPPY.  

Even though it was against my better judgment, we still went to Outback for supper.  Remember up there where I mentioned the snuggles n' cuddles and talking about Outback for supper?  Yeah.  Well, that warm fuzzy feeling somehow evaporated, leaving behind an angry, not-nice person.  Me.  Mom of the Year.

I pulled into a parking spot, put the car in park and start to gather my things to get out, when I hear from the backseat:  (you'll have to imagine the heartbreaking, shaky, I'm-about-to-bawl voice) 
"Mom?  Even though I stinkied in my pants, can you at least look on the bright side?" 

The bright side?!  And what is that? 

"We're still a family and I still love you."

Maybe it was the August heat in Georgia.  Maybe it was the little manipulator with blue eyes.  Certainly, though, I melted.  Right there in the Outback Steakhouse parking lot: a big puddle of Angry Mom.  I leaned over and looked into those big blue eyes, welling with tears, and said "I know, baby.  No matter what, we're always gonna be a family and I'll always, always love you." 
Big hugs and kisses ensued.  All was right with our world.  

Bring on the steak and shrimp!!

*forgot to say that when we picked up the Daddy, HE was the one to take the stinky boy into the restroom at the office, strip him down and clean up the 'accident'....I might have drown him....just sayin'.

Free

Free to a good home:  Bad Attitude (size medium)  Small spot of grumpy on the front, but not really noticeable unless you look at it in bright light.  Or any light. 
Condition: pretty shabby, but could be polished to restore its shine using a mixture of salt water, sand and sun.  Very little elbow grease required. 
Will deliver locally.