My small group of 3rd grade boys at church created these while we talked about "the greatest commandment."
Discussing love with 9 year old boys is interesting to say the least. They love video games. They love cheetos. They love Under Armour clothes. When one finally sheepishly offers "I love my mom more than any of that stuff", the others nod in silent agreement and for half a moment a serious mood of contemplation fills the room. One offers, "And God loves us more than we can ever love Him." Then the class jokester says "I love my sister too.... But I wouldn't trade my video games for her!" and takes us back to our normal atmosphere of loud, joking revelry.
And he said to him, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. (Matthew 22:37, 38 ESV)
Labels: KidMin
Decade
Ryan turned ten years old today.
May 26th, 2002. I can vividly see that crying, wide-eyed perfect little bundle they placed on my chest. "There you are." I saw his perfect face clearly thru my tears; tears brought on by both the glorious agony of labor and delivery, and the unabashed joy of meeting him for the first time. He was remarkable. So beautiful that mere minutes after a hard delivery I heard myself say to Jonathan, "I can't wait to do this again."
That moment, his arrival onto this planet and into my arms, was ten years ago today. I remember it with more clarity than perhaps any other single moment in my life. Doesn't seem possible that a decade has passed.
He is, daily, a joy and delight. Sometimes his kindness and his insight make me tear up with the same emotion I had on that day he was born. That moment 10 years ago, I was a participant in the joy of his birth. Everyday since, I have had the joy of participating in the building of a man. I am so grateful for this young man of character that calls me Mom.
Electronic Age
"How much were all these?!?" my six year old asks, as I present my library card to check out our first summer-time haul of library books.
All these years, all these library trips...she thought I was giving the librarian my check card.
Being Mom
Things about being mom that I adore:
-overhearing others brag on my kids
-that Dylan takes great pride in making my cup of coffee in the mornings
-that I've successfully taught them how to do some things on their own and I no longer have to cut boy toenails
-Lauryn asking "Can we lay in bed and talk?"
-Ryan emailing me to tell me he loves me and to share thoughts about scriptures he's reading (finally letting him have an email account has been such a great relational tool)
-group hugs
-learning small ways to make their day and then doing it even if they don't deserve it
-Ryan saying, "A kid at school asked me if I thought you were overprotective. I told him 'No way. She's a great mom!' [pause] I really do think you're too overprotective mom, but that's none of his business."
-telling them each they are my favorite; or conversely, when they ask "why does she get to do that and not me?" replying "because she's my favorite"
-Dylan teaching me his best dance moves
-cheering obnoxiously in the baseball and soccer stands
-Lauryn giving me her opinions on my outfits; she's generous with praise as well as with her suggestions for possible improvement
-getting the giggles at dinner
-The day in and day out work of mothering. It's sure hard and I sure do complain sometimes, but I wouldn't relinquish this job to anyone. The mothering of these three, that job is mine alone to enjoy. And I am grateful.
puddle jumping
Super, super fun! As long as you can push down stray thoughts of the exotic diseases they might potentially catch from the street run-off!
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It was just supposed to be puddle jumping. Dylan turned it into a mud fight.
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| 1-2-3-Jump! Landing the simultaneous splash! |
Scrapes and scratches are an essential part of childhood.
My kids are city dwellers. There's just no getting around it; their comfort zone is fenced in backyards and sidewalks.
But sometimes I want them to get a little dirt under their fingernails. Enter: The Hill
That's what we've affectionately dubbed, well, a hill, at a park on the other side of town. We stumbled on The Hill one Labor Day when were picnicking with friends. There's trees, dirt, rocks (manmade busted up concrete), weeds, scurrying critters....and some trash and broken glass and probable homeless dwellings that one must overlook. But we love The Hill!
I spent last Sunday afternoon playing on The Hill with the kids while Jonathan was home manning our Open House. (Oh yeah. Sidenote: Come buy our house.)
The kids got beautifully scratched up legs and arms. The boys immediately found big sticks (why do boys always do that?) to wave around menacingly. They made up explorer names like "Toxic" and "Inferno", and "Bella". Real intimidating Lauryn. They made up war cries to call out to one another through the forest. They got dirty and stinky and put a few stains on their clothes. And this reluctant city dweller Mama loved it.
Headed up the hill:
And back down:
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| Can you see the explorers there in the middle of The Hill? |
Goats, babies, and propriety.
People's ideas of what is right and proper certainly change from one generation to the next. I was happy to email pictures showing off my (clothed) growing belly to relatives that lived far away when I was pregnant...but the grandparents I was sending those pictures to certainly would not have been so free in showing off their bellies, and my great-grandparents would not have even whispered the word "pregnant" in public.
I was talking to my grandma yesterday, and somehow we got on the subject of where she and her siblings were born. She is number six out of seven, and they were all born at home. She told me, "I was five when Albert was born, and Mama told me that the goats left him on the back porch." We Okies ain't got no need for storks. Goats bring our young'uns.
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| Ryan and cousin Connor at the Tulsa Zoo in 2008 |
I was laughing about the goats with my mom, and she texted the following story of her own:
I was about five or six and some family member was pregnant. My brother was staring at her belly. Granny said, "Don't be gawkin', that ain't nothing but a watermelon." I said, "No, I think that's a baby." Granny bopped me on top of the head and said "Now don't you be talkin' thata way!!!!"
So my great-grandmother, born in 1900, told her daughter that goats dropped off babies on back porches, and explained to her granddaughter that pregnant bellies were simply watermelons.
Oh how times change. Wonder what Granny Allie would think of this?
whirlwind. a spinning whirlwind.
Life has been a whirlwind at the Cliff household lately. The whirlwind is four years old and has a name, which I can not share due to CPS privacy rules. I can just tell you that although I still haven't said "He's a foster kid" to anyone, I have allowed myself a whispered, "He's a friend of ours." Is that breaking the spirit of my vow to not give him a label? Probably. But I am only human people. And it was a particularly rough day. In spite of the occasional difficulties, he is a beautiful little soul that we are privileged to try and love well. And my mom reminded me that my own children annoy and tire me sometimes too. Word.
In a totally unrelated thought, and mostly just because it makes me smile big, I bring you this awesome picture of my mom, and my grandmother, and myself taken at my friend Amy's wedding in the photo booth they had at the reception (how FUN is that?!?):
Kids. They keep you humble.
I curled my hair for church today. I thought I achieved the soft, loose curls that I was going for, but when I walked out of my bedroom my daughter reacted as if I looked like this:
Springtime in OK
Just got back home to Lubbock after a great, if quick, trip to OK to celebrate my friend Amy's wedding and spend a bit of time with family. The kids got to drive a bulldozer and were given a coyote skull all in one afternoon. Yep. Must be the greatest state in the union.
Here are a few of the best pictures capturing time with cute cousins, and exploring rural Oklahoma with Granny!
I'm Starr Cliff. A domestically-challenged mom, climbing over mountains of laundry to bring you my stray observations and amusing stories about my kids. (more)
I also blog at:
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