Did you ever wander along in life only to find out one day that someone had a problem with you, they have had it for a long time but never told you. Possibly because it wasn't important enough to hinder their relationship with you or possibly because telling you wouldn't help it. And then something little happens and it comes out, spewing out of their mouth before you, leaving you wondering about all the things in the past that have slipped your attention, and you will never be able to remember!
Well, it's happened to me twice this year. Two different people and people who I love dearly. And both times, it was such a big thing for them that they thought I must have known! But I didn't. The latest one was a smaller deal than the first - but probably a reiteration of the things God is wanting to teach me this year.
I reckon most people have a relatively good impression of me. I hope most people think I'm nice. Because I am, I think. I would like to think that I am well-meaning. But I don't always think about the things that come out of my mouth or the way I say them. And the people who are closest to me often cop it. And I never really knew the extent of which until this year!
I've been learning to look forward, to learn and move on, and to not dwell on the past. To think upon past sin will just incur more guilt to carry... guilt which allows more sin to take hold. I have a vehicle now: I can bring all my guilt to Jesus and have it dealt with straight away! And when he releases me from my guilt by taking my burden for me, I truly am free to enjoy life and to move on with a clean slate. But now for the next part....
The other people in my life. People who feel they weren't treated right, who have been offended by my actions or words. Even if all that happened years ago or if it wasn't meant to be hurtful. I have been reminded of stuff I did as a 14 year old... 17 year old.... 20 year old... 24 year old.... My first reaction is HEY! I've been forgiven. That's in the past. I don't need to carry that guilt any more!!! Let's not dwell on it - let's move forward!!
But I forgot .... I need forgiveness from people, too. Well, some things are more obvious and instantaneous than others. And most of these things I didn't even know about until this year - or, perhaps I didn't realise the extent of the impact these events had had on them.
But then there is ongoing forgiveness from people, that I need as much as the ongoing forgiveness I receive from my king. Because even though I endeavour to grow, and to do the right thing, I am still me, and I still do lots of things wrong. I think I always will. I think we all, always will. My biggest lesson last year was how to continually seek forgiveness from my king. Now he wants me to learn about living in humility amongst my family and friends. And, in true biblical style, He started out all cryptic about it. But after this week, it's a fairly blatant command in front of my eyes. Kiah, be nice. Kiah, be humble. If I speak in the tongues of men and angels, but have not love, I am but a noisy gong or clanging cymbal! (1 Corinthians 13:1) Love, and don't take the love bestowed on you for granted. Easy peasy japanesey,...... not! Lord, I'll hold tight to your promise here: I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. (Phillipians 4:13)
It is times like these that pregnancy hormones are a gift! Where I am otherwise living in blissful ignorance, the past couple of months have been rich with learning about relationships. The sensitivity!.... The overreacting!....The emotional rides that can take hold.
Over and above all this, I am blessed that the people in my life are forgiving. I know people who haven't been so lucky. To receive forgiveness from our king is enough, but to continue a good relationship with a loved one makes life a heck of a lot more pleasant. Please keep forgiving me, and have patience, because I'm learning how to love you better.
Therefore, preparing your minds for action, and being sober-minded, set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. ...... Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but as living servants of God. Honour everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God....
1 Peter 1:13, 2:16-17
Friday, April 29, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
That's My King
The late Dr. S. M. Lockeridge, a pastor from San Diego, California said these words in a sermon in Detroit in 1976:
My King was born King. The Bible says He's a Seven Way King. He's the King of the Jews - that's an Ethnic King. He's the King of Israel - that's a National King. He's the King of righteousness. He's the King of the ages. He's the King of Heaven. He's the King of glory. He's the King of kings and He is the Lord of lords. Now that's my King.
Well, I wonder if you know Him. Do you know Him? Don't try to mislead me. Do you know my King? David said the Heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament shows His handiwork. My King is the only one of whom there are no means of measure that can define His limitless love. No far seeing telescope can bring into visibility the coastline of the shore of His supplies. No barriers can hinder Him from pouring out His blessing.
He's enduringly strong. He's entirely sincere. He's eternally steadfast. He's immortally graceful. He's imperially powerful. He's impartially merciful. That's my King. He's God's Son. He's the sinner's saviour. He's the centerpiece of civilization. He stands alone in Himself. He's honest. He's unique. He's unparalleled. He's unprecedented. He's supreme. He's pre-eminent. He's the grandest idea in literature. He's the highest personality in philosophy. He's the supreme problem in higher criticism. He's the fundamental doctrine of historic theology. He's the carnal necessity of spiritual religion. That's my King.
He's the miracle of the age. He's the superlative of everything good that you choose to call Him. He's the only one able to supply all our needs simultaneously. He supplies strength for the weak. He's available for the tempted and the tried. He sympathizes and He saves. He's the Almighty God who guides and keeps all his people. He heals the sick. He cleanses the lepers. He forgives sinners. He discharged debtors. He delivers the captives. He defends the feeble. He blesses the young. He serves the unfortunate. He regards the aged. He rewards the diligent and He beautifies the meek. That's my King.
Do you know Him? Well, my King is a King of knowledge. He's the wellspring of wisdom. He's the doorway of deliverance. He's the pathway of peace. He's the roadway of righteousness. He's the highway of holiness. He's the gateway of glory. He's the master of the mighty. He's the captain of the conquerors. He's the head of the heroes. He's the leader of the legislatures. He's the overseer of the overcomers. He's the governor of governors. He's the prince of princes. He's the King of kings and He's the Lord of lords. That's my King.
His office is manifold. His promise is sure. His light is matchless. His goodness is limitless. His mercy is everlasting. His love never changes. His Word is enough. His grace is sufficient. His reign is righteous. His yoke is easy and His burden is light. I wish I could describe Him to you . . . but He's indescribable. That's my King. He's incomprehensible, He's invincible, and He is irresistible.
I'm coming to tell you this, that the heavens of heavens can't contain Him, let alone some man explain Him. You can't get Him out of your mind. You can't get Him off of your hands. You can't outlive Him and you can't live without Him. The Pharisees couldn't stand Him, but they found out they couldn't stop Him. Pilate couldn't find any fault in Him. The witnesses couldn't get their testimonies to agree about Him. Herod couldn't kill Him. Death couldn't handle Him and the grave couldn't hold Him. That's my King.
He always has been and He always will be. I'm talking about the fact that He had no predecessor and He'll have no successor. There's nobody before Him and there'll be nobody after Him. You can't impeach Him and He's not going to resign. That's my King! That's my King!
Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory. Well, all the power belongs to my King. We're around here talking about black power and white power and green power, but in the end all that matters is God's power. Thine is the power. Yeah. And the glory. We try to get prestige and honor and glory for ourselves, but the glory is all His. Yes. Thine is the Kingdom and the power and glory, forever and ever and ever and ever. How long is that? Forever and ever and ever and ever. . . And when you get through with all of the ever's, then . . .Amen!
Well, I wonder if you know Him. Do you know Him? Don't try to mislead me. Do you know my King? David said the Heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament shows His handiwork. My King is the only one of whom there are no means of measure that can define His limitless love. No far seeing telescope can bring into visibility the coastline of the shore of His supplies. No barriers can hinder Him from pouring out His blessing.
He's enduringly strong. He's entirely sincere. He's eternally steadfast. He's immortally graceful. He's imperially powerful. He's impartially merciful. That's my King. He's God's Son. He's the sinner's saviour. He's the centerpiece of civilization. He stands alone in Himself. He's honest. He's unique. He's unparalleled. He's unprecedented. He's supreme. He's pre-eminent. He's the grandest idea in literature. He's the highest personality in philosophy. He's the supreme problem in higher criticism. He's the fundamental doctrine of historic theology. He's the carnal necessity of spiritual religion. That's my King.
He's the miracle of the age. He's the superlative of everything good that you choose to call Him. He's the only one able to supply all our needs simultaneously. He supplies strength for the weak. He's available for the tempted and the tried. He sympathizes and He saves. He's the Almighty God who guides and keeps all his people. He heals the sick. He cleanses the lepers. He forgives sinners. He discharged debtors. He delivers the captives. He defends the feeble. He blesses the young. He serves the unfortunate. He regards the aged. He rewards the diligent and He beautifies the meek. That's my King.
Do you know Him? Well, my King is a King of knowledge. He's the wellspring of wisdom. He's the doorway of deliverance. He's the pathway of peace. He's the roadway of righteousness. He's the highway of holiness. He's the gateway of glory. He's the master of the mighty. He's the captain of the conquerors. He's the head of the heroes. He's the leader of the legislatures. He's the overseer of the overcomers. He's the governor of governors. He's the prince of princes. He's the King of kings and He's the Lord of lords. That's my King.
His office is manifold. His promise is sure. His light is matchless. His goodness is limitless. His mercy is everlasting. His love never changes. His Word is enough. His grace is sufficient. His reign is righteous. His yoke is easy and His burden is light. I wish I could describe Him to you . . . but He's indescribable. That's my King. He's incomprehensible, He's invincible, and He is irresistible.
I'm coming to tell you this, that the heavens of heavens can't contain Him, let alone some man explain Him. You can't get Him out of your mind. You can't get Him off of your hands. You can't outlive Him and you can't live without Him. The Pharisees couldn't stand Him, but they found out they couldn't stop Him. Pilate couldn't find any fault in Him. The witnesses couldn't get their testimonies to agree about Him. Herod couldn't kill Him. Death couldn't handle Him and the grave couldn't hold Him. That's my King.
He always has been and He always will be. I'm talking about the fact that He had no predecessor and He'll have no successor. There's nobody before Him and there'll be nobody after Him. You can't impeach Him and He's not going to resign. That's my King! That's my King!
Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory. Well, all the power belongs to my King. We're around here talking about black power and white power and green power, but in the end all that matters is God's power. Thine is the power. Yeah. And the glory. We try to get prestige and honor and glory for ourselves, but the glory is all His. Yes. Thine is the Kingdom and the power and glory, forever and ever and ever and ever. How long is that? Forever and ever and ever and ever. . . And when you get through with all of the ever's, then . . .Amen!
Friday, April 22, 2011
Good Friday was Good
Well, I'm wondering whether or not it's actually a good idea to be busting out another midnight blog, but here i am, so beware of any rambling....
It's been a lovely day. We, all five and a half of us plus the dog got to clamber into Gramps' boat this morning with Nanajenn and Todd, venturing out amongst the islands and gas rigs. The weather was a balmy 33degrees-ish and the water was flat and turquoise. I think about 500 other people with boats had the same idea as Gramps but the water certainly accommodated us all comfortably.
It's the first time we've been out on the boat as a family since we moved here, this week pretty much weather-wise marking the beginning of the dry season and therefore being far easier for my wimpy self to handle the outdoors, apart from Gramps' boat problems and the odd cyclone making it difficult to plan a lovely day on the ocean before today.
For anybody that may be interested, no, we didn't catch any red emporer. I noticed in the paper this morning that it's tradition to eat fish today? That's the first I heard about that. We didn't put a fishing line in today, but all the boys had a go wake/knee boarding or on the seabiscuit. Nate had a blast. Woz commented that he took to the ride far better than the last time he had a go, which made me remember him being notably unhappy about being removed from the boat to begin with. I wondered when that was? - Woz quickly commented how that was pretty much a year ago, so yeah, that may explain things. Amazing what happens to a child between the ages of 2.5 and 3.5!
It was also Lily's first family excursion and the first time we braved taking her to a beach. I was well aware that, being a labrador she'd be very keen to get in the water and splash on the shore. But she is still a bit iffy about coming when she's called, even though she is well behaved she does prioritise working out where that scent is from first. So taking her out has always been on the lead up till today (barr that one experiment the first week we got her which ended in me and three little boys running silly in all directions around the oval yelling "LILLEEEE!! LILLEEEEEE!!" and the littlest boy becoming upset at not being able to keep up at all). When we arrived at a bay on an island where there were other people (and two other dogs) but really not much she could get up to, she ran riot. She made fast friends with the other dogs there and was extremely happy swimming around with the rest of us. But then we learned, from one of our island neighbours that dogs on the beaches there are illegal, because of the turtle wildlife. So she spent the rest of the time in the boat. (Still enjoying herself, she was very interested in watching crazy guys get towed around, swinging themselves here and there).
Pilbara Cities have plans to expand the population of these places five-fold, making world-class cities and all this jazz. I'm interested to know how this includes the interest of the turtles. Especially as, well there is not much else going for the place. There are some beautiful beach spots and waterholes, and when there are fifty thousand people and more sharing these beautiful places because THERE IS NOT MUCH ELSE TO DO, there are going to be a lot of illegal dogs, a lot of litter, a huge increase in general in the average pilbara persons' environmental footprint (which is not half as careful as that of a person in eastern australia in my opinion) and I think the turtles are going to have a hard time of it.
But today, it was just a couple of dogs on a public holiday splashing around on the beach with their families, completely harmless.
When we got home, the sun and salt got to me, and tears were pouring out of my eyes. I wasn't crying! They were sore. I had to shut 'em. My wonderful husband put some food in my kids' bellies. And when it was time for them to go to bed, they were all nice and worn out and settled quickly. Woz and I were treated to a meal by ourselves then.
We had retreated to bed by 9.30pm and were youtubing the comedy of Reginald D Hunter when Woz's phone rings. Our family, traveling up from Perth for the school holidays, have run into trouble: the axle on the boat trailer went or something, and a dad and four of his kids are stranded in the desert with not really any options. Oh! Don't worry, Dad's a superhero. He gets my husband over to his place, they are getting the axle of off His trailer and then going to drive 500km and back to deliver and fit it in the middle of the night, so they can still get the boats in the water tomorrow. Amazing.
So I threatened Woz that Lily will have to sleep on his side of the bed tonight, but it turns out it was an empty threat, cos she's still all damp and salty. Anyway, she's not as cuddley as Woz, as surprising as that may sound to some. And he actually smells better too. I'm not sure who I'm offending when I make that comparison.
I still haven't attempted the hot cross buns again, but i'm determined to tomorrow morning. I had a few things I wanted to do for easter with the kids but lost all inspiration when we got sick. We'll see what tomorrow brings!
It's been a lovely day. We, all five and a half of us plus the dog got to clamber into Gramps' boat this morning with Nanajenn and Todd, venturing out amongst the islands and gas rigs. The weather was a balmy 33degrees-ish and the water was flat and turquoise. I think about 500 other people with boats had the same idea as Gramps but the water certainly accommodated us all comfortably.
It's the first time we've been out on the boat as a family since we moved here, this week pretty much weather-wise marking the beginning of the dry season and therefore being far easier for my wimpy self to handle the outdoors, apart from Gramps' boat problems and the odd cyclone making it difficult to plan a lovely day on the ocean before today.
For anybody that may be interested, no, we didn't catch any red emporer. I noticed in the paper this morning that it's tradition to eat fish today? That's the first I heard about that. We didn't put a fishing line in today, but all the boys had a go wake/knee boarding or on the seabiscuit. Nate had a blast. Woz commented that he took to the ride far better than the last time he had a go, which made me remember him being notably unhappy about being removed from the boat to begin with. I wondered when that was? - Woz quickly commented how that was pretty much a year ago, so yeah, that may explain things. Amazing what happens to a child between the ages of 2.5 and 3.5!
It was also Lily's first family excursion and the first time we braved taking her to a beach. I was well aware that, being a labrador she'd be very keen to get in the water and splash on the shore. But she is still a bit iffy about coming when she's called, even though she is well behaved she does prioritise working out where that scent is from first. So taking her out has always been on the lead up till today (barr that one experiment the first week we got her which ended in me and three little boys running silly in all directions around the oval yelling "LILLEEEE!! LILLEEEEEE!!" and the littlest boy becoming upset at not being able to keep up at all). When we arrived at a bay on an island where there were other people (and two other dogs) but really not much she could get up to, she ran riot. She made fast friends with the other dogs there and was extremely happy swimming around with the rest of us. But then we learned, from one of our island neighbours that dogs on the beaches there are illegal, because of the turtle wildlife. So she spent the rest of the time in the boat. (Still enjoying herself, she was very interested in watching crazy guys get towed around, swinging themselves here and there).
Pilbara Cities have plans to expand the population of these places five-fold, making world-class cities and all this jazz. I'm interested to know how this includes the interest of the turtles. Especially as, well there is not much else going for the place. There are some beautiful beach spots and waterholes, and when there are fifty thousand people and more sharing these beautiful places because THERE IS NOT MUCH ELSE TO DO, there are going to be a lot of illegal dogs, a lot of litter, a huge increase in general in the average pilbara persons' environmental footprint (which is not half as careful as that of a person in eastern australia in my opinion) and I think the turtles are going to have a hard time of it.
But today, it was just a couple of dogs on a public holiday splashing around on the beach with their families, completely harmless.
When we got home, the sun and salt got to me, and tears were pouring out of my eyes. I wasn't crying! They were sore. I had to shut 'em. My wonderful husband put some food in my kids' bellies. And when it was time for them to go to bed, they were all nice and worn out and settled quickly. Woz and I were treated to a meal by ourselves then.
We had retreated to bed by 9.30pm and were youtubing the comedy of Reginald D Hunter when Woz's phone rings. Our family, traveling up from Perth for the school holidays, have run into trouble: the axle on the boat trailer went or something, and a dad and four of his kids are stranded in the desert with not really any options. Oh! Don't worry, Dad's a superhero. He gets my husband over to his place, they are getting the axle of off His trailer and then going to drive 500km and back to deliver and fit it in the middle of the night, so they can still get the boats in the water tomorrow. Amazing.
So I threatened Woz that Lily will have to sleep on his side of the bed tonight, but it turns out it was an empty threat, cos she's still all damp and salty. Anyway, she's not as cuddley as Woz, as surprising as that may sound to some. And he actually smells better too. I'm not sure who I'm offending when I make that comparison.
I still haven't attempted the hot cross buns again, but i'm determined to tomorrow morning. I had a few things I wanted to do for easter with the kids but lost all inspiration when we got sick. We'll see what tomorrow brings!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
CROUP AND GASTRO.
Pfff. Blah to sickness!!
First, Nate suffered from croup last week. Whatever virus caused that passed on to me and Theo over the weekend and now I can hear Theo coughing away in his sleep - although it doesn't sound croupy.
But the whole reason I'm here is cos I don't wanna go to bed, cos I know I'll have to keep getting up. Actually, I think the main reason is cos i don't want to be in that close a promixity to my darling, gastro-ed up husband tonight. Yeah - he's spent a bit of time in the loo in the past hour or so, and I don't want to know why. What I do know is that Nate woke up screaming and spewing two hours ago, and has done so since then too. He's asleep on the couch amongst a heap of towels and I need to be on stand-by for another bout, well, hopefully not.
I put a bucket in with Hugh in case he wakes up, but so far he's sleeping really well.
So hopefully Theo gets enough rest tonight in spite of the coughing and we can all have a bit of a slack day tomorrow.
And hopefully, none of our germs were shared with our bible study group who all met in our home tonight!! All the sick boys were in bed at the time but Woz didn't know it was gastro, and Nate went to bed completely normal, it's all just erupted since everyone left.
I really really hate this part of being a mum.
First, Nate suffered from croup last week. Whatever virus caused that passed on to me and Theo over the weekend and now I can hear Theo coughing away in his sleep - although it doesn't sound croupy.
But the whole reason I'm here is cos I don't wanna go to bed, cos I know I'll have to keep getting up. Actually, I think the main reason is cos i don't want to be in that close a promixity to my darling, gastro-ed up husband tonight. Yeah - he's spent a bit of time in the loo in the past hour or so, and I don't want to know why. What I do know is that Nate woke up screaming and spewing two hours ago, and has done so since then too. He's asleep on the couch amongst a heap of towels and I need to be on stand-by for another bout, well, hopefully not.
I put a bucket in with Hugh in case he wakes up, but so far he's sleeping really well.
So hopefully Theo gets enough rest tonight in spite of the coughing and we can all have a bit of a slack day tomorrow.
And hopefully, none of our germs were shared with our bible study group who all met in our home tonight!! All the sick boys were in bed at the time but Woz didn't know it was gastro, and Nate went to bed completely normal, it's all just erupted since everyone left.
I really really hate this part of being a mum.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The Easter Bunny
I don't know how to look my child in the eye, and tell him that the easter bunny's coming!?
My parents never told me that (that I can remember), and I never felt I lost out about that stage of believing in Santa or the Easter bunny.
Last year, with Hugh just turned 4, was our first Easter that personally I noticed all the commercial side of things taking over the festivities a bit more. I didn't have a problem with it - it was lovely. We went camping on the weekend with some great friends and had a lot of fun. A bit of a milestone for me though, was to witness my beautiful boy being old enough to respond to his Da and Uncle who noticed the Easter bunny out the window, and follow, in absolute delight, his cousins to go hunt for the chocolate that the bunny left hidden throughout the garden. It was enthralling for him! And the week(s) that followed with ALL THAT CHOCOLATE was cool too!
But this year it's grown even more. Hugh remembers that egg hunt and the Easter bunny very well and he and Nate have been eyeing off the easter chocolates set at eye-height throughout all the shops since what- February? On top of that, at school Hugh has been making hunting baskets, chocolate moulds, easter bonnets (they had a beautiful hat parade to show off their awesome work too, which was very special and I would have loved to see more than the 30 seconds of it that I did, because I was late) Nate has been making easter stuff at his creche's and playgroups too and it is great to have the theme for the kids to get excited about easter, but now I'm feeling a bit of pressure here- Except for the fact that I can not look Hugh or Nate in the eye and say, the Easter bunny is coming! I can also not look them in the eye and say, the Easter bunny is NOT coming!!!
Yesterday Hugh brought home some bunny ears from school to make with his brothers. We sat colouring and talking about easter, and we had some little easter treats to give his teachers on their last day of term this week. I can't remember what it was that Hugh said (I wish I could, to justify what I'm about to tell you that i said!) but my response was, "Hey, you know that Easter isn't even actually all about this stuff in the end." I was a bit gobsmacked but Hugh actually asked me what's it about, and continued to be interested in what I was saying (I would have expected him to say something more like Oh, yeah and then ask me for some more drink or what colour next or can we stop this now, I want to play computer). What am i sposed to say? Jesus dying on the cross? Is he old enough to get that? I'm only just starting to get it now. So I'm winging it here: "It's like how at christmas, we celebrated Jesus being born, and then at easter, we celebrate him being born again." (Hugh continues to listen. What the. not even a perplexed look) "So he died, a heap of men killed him and stuff, but God brought him back from the dead, and now we don't have to worry about death! Cos we just have to ask Jesus to look after us about that." Now this is a bit of a pearler: Hugh looks at me, actually thinking about what I'm saying, and goes, "So, some guys killed Jesus. so maybe the Easter bunny helped saved him, and gave everybody chocolate!" "umm... nah, not really" "Well, did Jesus give us the easter bunny?" I couldn't help myself now, because I'm having a pretty grown-up conversation with him already, so i stopped it at that- I can't hear any more precious stories about the easter bunny being Jesus or anything- "Hugh, some guys don't believe in Jesus, cos they can't see him and stuff, so they just made up the easter bunny instead!" I got a bit of a double take, but I'm not sure what was taken in out of that. There was a bit of uncertaintity on my side of things because I don't want to take away from Hugh's childhood easter experiences! So I didn't mean to blurt out that some guys just made up the easter bunny. And I didn't mention it again either, I didn't have to, because he was actually more interested in the fact that some people don't believe in Jesus!! To him, Jesus is Air. So He is very real to him!
I don't think that the Easter bunny takes away from the real reason we celebrate Easter - Jesus claiming victory over death forever! How could anything take away from that? This is something that should be celebrated everyday. As aussie kids, they can't avoid all the kafuffle that will happen about the way Australia celebrates their long weekend, and that's okay with me. We will have a bit more chocolate and stuff in the house this week, and maybe even an easter egg hunt again, because we're Australian. I just pray that Woz and I keep getting plenty more opportunities to teach our boys as they grow older, about what we believe.
My parents never told me that (that I can remember), and I never felt I lost out about that stage of believing in Santa or the Easter bunny.
Last year, with Hugh just turned 4, was our first Easter that personally I noticed all the commercial side of things taking over the festivities a bit more. I didn't have a problem with it - it was lovely. We went camping on the weekend with some great friends and had a lot of fun. A bit of a milestone for me though, was to witness my beautiful boy being old enough to respond to his Da and Uncle who noticed the Easter bunny out the window, and follow, in absolute delight, his cousins to go hunt for the chocolate that the bunny left hidden throughout the garden. It was enthralling for him! And the week(s) that followed with ALL THAT CHOCOLATE was cool too!
But this year it's grown even more. Hugh remembers that egg hunt and the Easter bunny very well and he and Nate have been eyeing off the easter chocolates set at eye-height throughout all the shops since what- February? On top of that, at school Hugh has been making hunting baskets, chocolate moulds, easter bonnets (they had a beautiful hat parade to show off their awesome work too, which was very special and I would have loved to see more than the 30 seconds of it that I did, because I was late) Nate has been making easter stuff at his creche's and playgroups too and it is great to have the theme for the kids to get excited about easter, but now I'm feeling a bit of pressure here- Except for the fact that I can not look Hugh or Nate in the eye and say, the Easter bunny is coming! I can also not look them in the eye and say, the Easter bunny is NOT coming!!!
Yesterday Hugh brought home some bunny ears from school to make with his brothers. We sat colouring and talking about easter, and we had some little easter treats to give his teachers on their last day of term this week. I can't remember what it was that Hugh said (I wish I could, to justify what I'm about to tell you that i said!) but my response was, "Hey, you know that Easter isn't even actually all about this stuff in the end." I was a bit gobsmacked but Hugh actually asked me what's it about, and continued to be interested in what I was saying (I would have expected him to say something more like Oh, yeah and then ask me for some more drink or what colour next or can we stop this now, I want to play computer). What am i sposed to say? Jesus dying on the cross? Is he old enough to get that? I'm only just starting to get it now. So I'm winging it here: "It's like how at christmas, we celebrated Jesus being born, and then at easter, we celebrate him being born again." (Hugh continues to listen. What the. not even a perplexed look) "So he died, a heap of men killed him and stuff, but God brought him back from the dead, and now we don't have to worry about death! Cos we just have to ask Jesus to look after us about that." Now this is a bit of a pearler: Hugh looks at me, actually thinking about what I'm saying, and goes, "So, some guys killed Jesus. so maybe the Easter bunny helped saved him, and gave everybody chocolate!" "umm... nah, not really" "Well, did Jesus give us the easter bunny?" I couldn't help myself now, because I'm having a pretty grown-up conversation with him already, so i stopped it at that- I can't hear any more precious stories about the easter bunny being Jesus or anything- "Hugh, some guys don't believe in Jesus, cos they can't see him and stuff, so they just made up the easter bunny instead!" I got a bit of a double take, but I'm not sure what was taken in out of that. There was a bit of uncertaintity on my side of things because I don't want to take away from Hugh's childhood easter experiences! So I didn't mean to blurt out that some guys just made up the easter bunny. And I didn't mention it again either, I didn't have to, because he was actually more interested in the fact that some people don't believe in Jesus!! To him, Jesus is Air. So He is very real to him!
I don't think that the Easter bunny takes away from the real reason we celebrate Easter - Jesus claiming victory over death forever! How could anything take away from that? This is something that should be celebrated everyday. As aussie kids, they can't avoid all the kafuffle that will happen about the way Australia celebrates their long weekend, and that's okay with me. We will have a bit more chocolate and stuff in the house this week, and maybe even an easter egg hunt again, because we're Australian. I just pray that Woz and I keep getting plenty more opportunities to teach our boys as they grow older, about what we believe.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Lactivate!!!
I came across a new word this week, one i've never heard before, and i'm not sure how i haven't heard! by a woman labelling herself as a Lactivist.
I was pondering the cleverness of the term - a Lactation Activist - and started wondering if i was one? My eyes were pointed at the ceiling when Woz walked in, and broke into my thoughts with: "Hey, whattaya thinking about?"
I was wondering where to start, or how much Woz would care or understand about the subject, so i just said, "Lactivist. Am I a lactivist?"
Woz sits down. "Well, what's a lactivist?" I can see his mind ticking over and he starts thinking out loud. "Lack....tivist. Are you a lack-tivist? as in- you would be an activist about something, but you lack motivation? are you an activist that doesn't activate?"
It made me giggle for sure. But maybe i am a bit of a lacktivist, in many areas of my life! I have so many things, beliefs, passions, that are sort of squashed in amongst the daily grind, the desire to fit in with my peers, the desire to actually just appear like a normal human being (this isn't really a great time to remind me that I've probably already lost that ability!)... and so on and so forth. My passion for breastfeeding being one of them.
But it was just this week, talking with a friend that the very subject of being an Activist even came up, when even though i have searched for that very word in many of my trains of thought I've never been able to find it. I'll give you a long-winded example of one of the times I have searched.
Once upon a time, when I was about three years into my parenting journey, a dear friend of mine began hers. She was far more prepared than I ever was, reading up on plenty of books and doing tons of net research, to get her smoothly through her first pregnancy, birth experience, and set off sailing into her relationship with her new son. She adopted a fairly massive label, to become an Attachment Parent. Wearing a label was something I'd never been brave enough to do. Having so many different peers, I guess we've just gleaned from everyone's experience and felt our way through the joys and messes that parenthood brought. So I guess you could say that I could wear many of the little labels that come with Attachment parenting, but I couldn't label myself as an Attachment parent - in the same way that I couldn't label myself as a Growing Kids God's Way parent, or so on, but this carries throughout many areas of my life apart from the "parenting culture" as well.
In the months that ensued, I witnessed much dedication and determination, and I can see now that my friend is somewhat an activist in the world of Attachment Parenting - she certainly has many achievements that testify to her and her husband's parenting style. But it didn't come without hardship, and there were times when they needed support (as all parents do!). It was at these times that I got the feeling she felt alone. I am not able to say that I never judged the way they do things, in spite of what I wanted to feel. And I know that my judgement was the least of her worries: she had many reasons to feel alone. This in itself really upset me: No parent, and especially someone who ISNT a parent, has any reason to judge the way another parent, parents.
I don't know one Mum or Dad who do not raise their child or children with their whole being. I don't know one Mum or Dad who doesn't think twice about the way they are doing things. I DO know parents who are doing things very differently from each other. But in their own isolated situations, they are appropriate - to the parent's belief system, to the child's personality and the parents' personalities, to their community or circumstance. I have been that lucky, to not witness a family in which the parent actually does not care about their child. (Disclaimer: I realise that there are families out there who do not actually function and there are children out there who need help. I do not refer to these extreme situations, but to that of the friends around us, the other parents in our communities who are in our day to day lives.)
It is from this experience that I felt there should be a "Parenting Haven" - a place where parents of all walks can come together to receive support and encouragement and learn from each other without judgement. As much as i have known parents to care for their child, I also know that all parents make mistakes and could not do it alone. It is from this experience that I have endeavoured at times to be a lacktivist! Because perhaps, in essence, I can be a haven to many parents by not having too many opinions or judgements about many things.
Getting back to why I was talking about being an Activist this week: I am starting my training to become a breastfeeding counsellor. My friend was ecstatic to learn this, as her own experience was to end up bottle-feeding out of ignorance and now she wishes she knew better, and she wishes she had known about the breastfeeding counsellors out there. She wishes she even knew anything about the benefits of breastfeeding. So her natural response was to be encouraged for the others she knew like her, and that the resource of ABA counsellors was growing.
I said, as much as I love breastfeeding, I was worried about being such a forceful advocate as some (in leiu of the word Activist). Because there are plenty of people in my life who would not or could not breastfeed, and in my effort to love them, I certainly don't want them to feel judged by me.
My friend's reply was that the world needs activists. This rocked my world of thoughts; it's true. The reason we enjoy the freedom we do in this country is because of past activists who stood up for their ideas and beliefs. And in the realm of majority vs minority, Minorities need their activists. And I agree.
So my perception of activating, and lacktivating, is growing and changing. Am I a lactivist? I guess not. The only thing important enough to me to be an Activist about is Jesus Christ, and to have those I love know His love. This is a whole nother post, because it is a point of argument for many: that Christ becomes the cop-out for many christians who are not fighting for worthy causes. I go about those worthy causes in unplanned ways similar to that of my parenting style. But truly, when you know the love of Christ, everything else really does fade into the horizon. Not because the issues aren't important, but because his love is so encompassing!
So there you have it..... a humungus rant that didn't really go anywhere (in my husband's opinion)..... but how ironic is it, that one of the top ten successful blogging tips is to actually be consistent with a "label" of some description? That was one of the reasons I never started a blog! This longwinded post may be the death of the popularity of my blog but being true to myself, I'm just writing out thoughts straight from my heart - and sometimes, they're all over the place. Thanks if you got this far!!
I was pondering the cleverness of the term - a Lactation Activist - and started wondering if i was one? My eyes were pointed at the ceiling when Woz walked in, and broke into my thoughts with: "Hey, whattaya thinking about?"
I was wondering where to start, or how much Woz would care or understand about the subject, so i just said, "Lactivist. Am I a lactivist?"
Woz sits down. "Well, what's a lactivist?" I can see his mind ticking over and he starts thinking out loud. "Lack....tivist. Are you a lack-tivist? as in- you would be an activist about something, but you lack motivation? are you an activist that doesn't activate?"
It made me giggle for sure. But maybe i am a bit of a lacktivist, in many areas of my life! I have so many things, beliefs, passions, that are sort of squashed in amongst the daily grind, the desire to fit in with my peers, the desire to actually just appear like a normal human being (this isn't really a great time to remind me that I've probably already lost that ability!)... and so on and so forth. My passion for breastfeeding being one of them.
But it was just this week, talking with a friend that the very subject of being an Activist even came up, when even though i have searched for that very word in many of my trains of thought I've never been able to find it. I'll give you a long-winded example of one of the times I have searched.
Once upon a time, when I was about three years into my parenting journey, a dear friend of mine began hers. She was far more prepared than I ever was, reading up on plenty of books and doing tons of net research, to get her smoothly through her first pregnancy, birth experience, and set off sailing into her relationship with her new son. She adopted a fairly massive label, to become an Attachment Parent. Wearing a label was something I'd never been brave enough to do. Having so many different peers, I guess we've just gleaned from everyone's experience and felt our way through the joys and messes that parenthood brought. So I guess you could say that I could wear many of the little labels that come with Attachment parenting, but I couldn't label myself as an Attachment parent - in the same way that I couldn't label myself as a Growing Kids God's Way parent, or so on, but this carries throughout many areas of my life apart from the "parenting culture" as well.
In the months that ensued, I witnessed much dedication and determination, and I can see now that my friend is somewhat an activist in the world of Attachment Parenting - she certainly has many achievements that testify to her and her husband's parenting style. But it didn't come without hardship, and there were times when they needed support (as all parents do!). It was at these times that I got the feeling she felt alone. I am not able to say that I never judged the way they do things, in spite of what I wanted to feel. And I know that my judgement was the least of her worries: she had many reasons to feel alone. This in itself really upset me: No parent, and especially someone who ISNT a parent, has any reason to judge the way another parent, parents.
I don't know one Mum or Dad who do not raise their child or children with their whole being. I don't know one Mum or Dad who doesn't think twice about the way they are doing things. I DO know parents who are doing things very differently from each other. But in their own isolated situations, they are appropriate - to the parent's belief system, to the child's personality and the parents' personalities, to their community or circumstance. I have been that lucky, to not witness a family in which the parent actually does not care about their child. (Disclaimer: I realise that there are families out there who do not actually function and there are children out there who need help. I do not refer to these extreme situations, but to that of the friends around us, the other parents in our communities who are in our day to day lives.)
It is from this experience that I felt there should be a "Parenting Haven" - a place where parents of all walks can come together to receive support and encouragement and learn from each other without judgement. As much as i have known parents to care for their child, I also know that all parents make mistakes and could not do it alone. It is from this experience that I have endeavoured at times to be a lacktivist! Because perhaps, in essence, I can be a haven to many parents by not having too many opinions or judgements about many things.
Getting back to why I was talking about being an Activist this week: I am starting my training to become a breastfeeding counsellor. My friend was ecstatic to learn this, as her own experience was to end up bottle-feeding out of ignorance and now she wishes she knew better, and she wishes she had known about the breastfeeding counsellors out there. She wishes she even knew anything about the benefits of breastfeeding. So her natural response was to be encouraged for the others she knew like her, and that the resource of ABA counsellors was growing.
I said, as much as I love breastfeeding, I was worried about being such a forceful advocate as some (in leiu of the word Activist). Because there are plenty of people in my life who would not or could not breastfeed, and in my effort to love them, I certainly don't want them to feel judged by me.
My friend's reply was that the world needs activists. This rocked my world of thoughts; it's true. The reason we enjoy the freedom we do in this country is because of past activists who stood up for their ideas and beliefs. And in the realm of majority vs minority, Minorities need their activists. And I agree.
So my perception of activating, and lacktivating, is growing and changing. Am I a lactivist? I guess not. The only thing important enough to me to be an Activist about is Jesus Christ, and to have those I love know His love. This is a whole nother post, because it is a point of argument for many: that Christ becomes the cop-out for many christians who are not fighting for worthy causes. I go about those worthy causes in unplanned ways similar to that of my parenting style. But truly, when you know the love of Christ, everything else really does fade into the horizon. Not because the issues aren't important, but because his love is so encompassing!
So there you have it..... a humungus rant that didn't really go anywhere (in my husband's opinion)..... but how ironic is it, that one of the top ten successful blogging tips is to actually be consistent with a "label" of some description? That was one of the reasons I never started a blog! This longwinded post may be the death of the popularity of my blog but being true to myself, I'm just writing out thoughts straight from my heart - and sometimes, they're all over the place. Thanks if you got this far!!
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
The difference between boys and girls
So, Hugh pipes up from the back seat on the way home from tennis: "Do girls have sweat too?"
In the past little while, he is only just coming to terms with the fact that mums do poos on the toilet as well. (I wish i didn't have to be the one to teach him this.) He was adamant that I was the only girl in the world who "claimed" to do poos on the toilet, but I was actually pretending, because girls don't poo. Then we got Lily, and a small revelation occured to him: "Mum, Lily did a poo! But she's a girl? .....you're a girl, and you do poos, and Lily's a girl, and she does poos!" I have no idea where in the world he got the idea that girls don't poo .......
He is increasingly interested in the difference between boys and girls, not the most obvious, generally hidden difference - but the way the girls play differently at school. He's been making note of who wears make-up and the difference in clothes marketed at girls vs those marketed toward boys. He must have had some sort of hesitation about what girls are all about because since he has spent quality time with his cousin Evie, he often makes comments such as, "Mum, I actually love girls," in ways which make me think he had really ummed and ahhed about this decision.
So back to the conversation; Yeah Hugh, girls do have sweat like boys.
But girls are different!
Well, not really. Girls are people too.
But they have a different place where the wee comes....
Yeah, but we eat food like boys, and we can see, smell, hear, taste, touch like boys. We're the same.
The same, but different.
In the past little while, he is only just coming to terms with the fact that mums do poos on the toilet as well. (I wish i didn't have to be the one to teach him this.) He was adamant that I was the only girl in the world who "claimed" to do poos on the toilet, but I was actually pretending, because girls don't poo. Then we got Lily, and a small revelation occured to him: "Mum, Lily did a poo! But she's a girl? .....you're a girl, and you do poos, and Lily's a girl, and she does poos!" I have no idea where in the world he got the idea that girls don't poo .......
He is increasingly interested in the difference between boys and girls, not the most obvious, generally hidden difference - but the way the girls play differently at school. He's been making note of who wears make-up and the difference in clothes marketed at girls vs those marketed toward boys. He must have had some sort of hesitation about what girls are all about because since he has spent quality time with his cousin Evie, he often makes comments such as, "Mum, I actually love girls," in ways which make me think he had really ummed and ahhed about this decision.
So back to the conversation; Yeah Hugh, girls do have sweat like boys.
But girls are different!
Well, not really. Girls are people too.
But they have a different place where the wee comes....
Yeah, but we eat food like boys, and we can see, smell, hear, taste, touch like boys. We're the same.
The same, but different.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Theo and 'Boody'
Theo is really, really bad at sharing.
He will have his favourite toy of the day - usually a bus, or train, but at the moment it's Hugh's toy story character doll, Woody - and it's his. That's it. He won't let anyone near it, he won't let go of it to eat a meal or be belted in to his carseat.
Not only that, but he gets his way most of the time because he has an unbearable tantrum scream (not like Hugh's in the old days, which was that high pitched squeal - this is a yell/scream, loud, and lengthy, and repetitive) which will belt out of his tiny little body until someone says to one of his older brothers, would you PLEASE just do whatever you can to stop that noise! And toys are given back, or become unthreatened, or even just given to him regardless of who was playing with them in the first place.
The other area Theo gets his way is the school drop-off and pick-up. Every day, twice a day, we walk the children to Hugh's classroom and back from the car. Remembering that by 8.30am it's generally already 34deg (although the mornings are cooler the last week or so), and carrying my extra 10kg of baby fat (sigh - but that's another post) plus my chunky almost 2 year old while keeping in step with Nate, who is stopping to do a wee under the bush, or balancing carefully along the path's kerb. Most days there is an argument somewhere along the line - hurry up, we're late; no, you can't play on the playground today; stop yr tantrum and start walking! Anyway back to what I was saying! Theo never wants to do what i feel like... if I'm in a hurry, or on a mission and I want to carry him, he wants to walk. And if I am hot and bothered and don't want to carry him, he wants to be carried. Fullstop- there's no arguing with this kid.
I guess that the reason he got to be this way is cos most of the time he's beautiful. He babbles everything that his big brothers say and copies everything they do, following them around the backyard looking for grasshoppers, leading Lily around in 'training', scooting on scooters, watching movies, sneaking into the pantry looking for snacks. He has a beautiful sleep routine and gives loving cuddles and kisses while we look for the green sheep, and then turn out the light. He is the family door-shutter - if he passes a kitchen cupboard or drawer that is open, he has to shut it. He closes the car door behind us, and he takes things to the sink and bin, feeling very important. When nobody threatens to take his 'Boody' (as he calls Woody), he is actually mimicking Woody, mumbling things in a high-pitched voice and making the doll role-play with other random toys. When he pulls the string on his back, he will copy whatever it is that Woody says in the same accent.
At the moment, he is standing (on a stool) at the kitchen sink, finding himself a cup amongst the pile of dishes, getting himself a drink of water. Clever boy! He has needed his big brothers to do this task for him until this week.
He's not a bad kid, in Hugh's words he's just "a bad sharer". I don't know how to deal with the sharing thing, even though he's my third kid and i should. In a way, it's teaching us all a bit of patience. I will keep watching and waiting for him to grow out of it. This blog, for me, acts as a marker as to what's happening when and how badly we may need to do something about it later!
He will have his favourite toy of the day - usually a bus, or train, but at the moment it's Hugh's toy story character doll, Woody - and it's his. That's it. He won't let anyone near it, he won't let go of it to eat a meal or be belted in to his carseat.
Not only that, but he gets his way most of the time because he has an unbearable tantrum scream (not like Hugh's in the old days, which was that high pitched squeal - this is a yell/scream, loud, and lengthy, and repetitive) which will belt out of his tiny little body until someone says to one of his older brothers, would you PLEASE just do whatever you can to stop that noise! And toys are given back, or become unthreatened, or even just given to him regardless of who was playing with them in the first place.
The other area Theo gets his way is the school drop-off and pick-up. Every day, twice a day, we walk the children to Hugh's classroom and back from the car. Remembering that by 8.30am it's generally already 34deg (although the mornings are cooler the last week or so), and carrying my extra 10kg of baby fat (sigh - but that's another post) plus my chunky almost 2 year old while keeping in step with Nate, who is stopping to do a wee under the bush, or balancing carefully along the path's kerb. Most days there is an argument somewhere along the line - hurry up, we're late; no, you can't play on the playground today; stop yr tantrum and start walking! Anyway back to what I was saying! Theo never wants to do what i feel like... if I'm in a hurry, or on a mission and I want to carry him, he wants to walk. And if I am hot and bothered and don't want to carry him, he wants to be carried. Fullstop- there's no arguing with this kid.
I guess that the reason he got to be this way is cos most of the time he's beautiful. He babbles everything that his big brothers say and copies everything they do, following them around the backyard looking for grasshoppers, leading Lily around in 'training', scooting on scooters, watching movies, sneaking into the pantry looking for snacks. He has a beautiful sleep routine and gives loving cuddles and kisses while we look for the green sheep, and then turn out the light. He is the family door-shutter - if he passes a kitchen cupboard or drawer that is open, he has to shut it. He closes the car door behind us, and he takes things to the sink and bin, feeling very important. When nobody threatens to take his 'Boody' (as he calls Woody), he is actually mimicking Woody, mumbling things in a high-pitched voice and making the doll role-play with other random toys. When he pulls the string on his back, he will copy whatever it is that Woody says in the same accent.
At the moment, he is standing (on a stool) at the kitchen sink, finding himself a cup amongst the pile of dishes, getting himself a drink of water. Clever boy! He has needed his big brothers to do this task for him until this week.
He's not a bad kid, in Hugh's words he's just "a bad sharer". I don't know how to deal with the sharing thing, even though he's my third kid and i should. In a way, it's teaching us all a bit of patience. I will keep watching and waiting for him to grow out of it. This blog, for me, acts as a marker as to what's happening when and how badly we may need to do something about it later!
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Mum's birthday pressie
A while ago mum brought up her favourite quote and shared how she always wanted to cross stitch it so she could have it on display in her home, but she never got around to it. Well, i thought, if she had that dream, why can't it come true?
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Another Son
I am the mother of three boys, ages 5, 3, and 22m, and just discovered yesterday in our 21st week of a far earlier-than-planned pregnancy (we set out wanting five children!!), we are expecting another son. On announcing to friends the news of another boy we received many mixed responses - "oh! i'm so sorry darl" / "are you ok?" / "well, you do make beautiful boys" / "some boys look good in pink!". I have to say that any of these may well be exactly what I would have given to someone else in my shoes, except that on receiving them I didn't appreciate them at all!! The last four months have been spent wondering if we will, in the end be blessed with a daughter. This has been the hardest pregnancy of them all!- which must account for something, right? We were comfortable with the idea of another boy- but maybe a girl first- mainly to erase that uncertainty about gender-preference and constantly justifying the idea that we would LOVE a daughter, and not a son.
So, I freaked out two days ago about the impending scan, wondering whether our decision to find out the gender of our precious bundle was the right one. Perhaps, if it is a boy, it will be easier to accept when he is simultaneously being handed to my breast, taking his first breaths, viewing his mother for the first time, and feeling his da's first touch. I cried tears of frustration- pregnancy is such a long, hard journey, and my husband no longer wants to do it again. He's ready to end this era. If I have another son, I will have to grieve the fact that I will never have a daughter!! Even though the thought of another "me" is incredibly weird and overwhelming - and probably something the Lord knows that I cannot handle!
By the time the sonographer was viewing my perfect baby, checking everything is right, my husband and I were very nervous about knowing the news but by the time he was finished looking at all the most important things, we put ourselves out there and asked to see the baby's gender. And there, another little willy imposed my perception. We laughed in disbelief!! FOUR FRICKIN BOYS. In a row!!! Lord, what are you doing to us??! Hubby is excited and dreaming about future camping trips, sporting events, band practices and surfing and skating together. We then view babe's perfectly handsome profile. My heart brims with joy and love for my new son. We exit the hospital reeling with excitement and giggles and disbelief. Phew! That was better than I thought it could be!
At this point, the uncertain responses start flowing in, and I assure everyone I'm doing fine, mildly annoyed at the very few "wow! that is awesome - congratulations!" amongst the "oh, god"s.....
It was soon time to pick up my pre-schooler, Hugh. It is the first time I have been able to share my pregnancy with my son who now generally understands the things going on inside my belly and the prospect of a new sibling. I explained how we visited a dr today who took a photograph of our baby inside my tummy and he was able to tell us if it is a boy or girl!! To which I witnessed Hugh's excitement - is it a girl? Actually, a boy. He throws his drink bottle at the dash of the car in anger. I was quick to harness his emotions and telling him our dreams of all the adventures our boys will have together and how there is always going to be enough boys to play cricket in the backyard. Hugh then had a revelation of his baby brother becoming a big brother and starting dreaming of his new little brother. The moment of raw disappointment in not getting a little sister had passed, but it was enough to draw out my raw feelings then. While all the children played happily in the afternoon, I could address my grief for a much longed-for daughter.
Isaiah 26:3
You keep him in perfect peace
whose mind is stayed on you,
because he trusts in you.
I am completely glad of the ability to enjoy the rest of my pregnancy now, knowing that it will soon result in a son, and not needing to be nervous about what gender we might expect. Four boys! I pray that they grow up to be great friends, and support for each other in whatever life brings them.
***
added the next day
I can't help but add this after my initial debut into the feedback giving world. In my opening statements, I used word for word comments and responses from dearly loved friends and family to portray the environment I was drawing on to work through my experiences. I now feel the need to explain that I knew exactly the heartfelt manner in which the comments were intended for us. I knew that I was taking the comments in ways that I shouldn't! I am giving an honest account of the confusion I felt at the time. To my dear loved ones who gave me messages along those lines: don't apologise. Underneath all the raw stuff, I can sense your love and support and empathy! Keep being honest and don't feel the need to tread on eggshells with me. The worst that can happen now is that I'll blog about it and you will know how I worked through your comment!
So, I freaked out two days ago about the impending scan, wondering whether our decision to find out the gender of our precious bundle was the right one. Perhaps, if it is a boy, it will be easier to accept when he is simultaneously being handed to my breast, taking his first breaths, viewing his mother for the first time, and feeling his da's first touch. I cried tears of frustration- pregnancy is such a long, hard journey, and my husband no longer wants to do it again. He's ready to end this era. If I have another son, I will have to grieve the fact that I will never have a daughter!! Even though the thought of another "me" is incredibly weird and overwhelming - and probably something the Lord knows that I cannot handle!
By the time the sonographer was viewing my perfect baby, checking everything is right, my husband and I were very nervous about knowing the news but by the time he was finished looking at all the most important things, we put ourselves out there and asked to see the baby's gender. And there, another little willy imposed my perception. We laughed in disbelief!! FOUR FRICKIN BOYS. In a row!!! Lord, what are you doing to us??! Hubby is excited and dreaming about future camping trips, sporting events, band practices and surfing and skating together. We then view babe's perfectly handsome profile. My heart brims with joy and love for my new son. We exit the hospital reeling with excitement and giggles and disbelief. Phew! That was better than I thought it could be!
At this point, the uncertain responses start flowing in, and I assure everyone I'm doing fine, mildly annoyed at the very few "wow! that is awesome - congratulations!" amongst the "oh, god"s.....
It was soon time to pick up my pre-schooler, Hugh. It is the first time I have been able to share my pregnancy with my son who now generally understands the things going on inside my belly and the prospect of a new sibling. I explained how we visited a dr today who took a photograph of our baby inside my tummy and he was able to tell us if it is a boy or girl!! To which I witnessed Hugh's excitement - is it a girl? Actually, a boy. He throws his drink bottle at the dash of the car in anger. I was quick to harness his emotions and telling him our dreams of all the adventures our boys will have together and how there is always going to be enough boys to play cricket in the backyard. Hugh then had a revelation of his baby brother becoming a big brother and starting dreaming of his new little brother. The moment of raw disappointment in not getting a little sister had passed, but it was enough to draw out my raw feelings then. While all the children played happily in the afternoon, I could address my grief for a much longed-for daughter.
Isaiah 26:3
You keep him in perfect peace
whose mind is stayed on you,
because he trusts in you.
I am completely glad of the ability to enjoy the rest of my pregnancy now, knowing that it will soon result in a son, and not needing to be nervous about what gender we might expect. Four boys! I pray that they grow up to be great friends, and support for each other in whatever life brings them.
***
added the next day
I can't help but add this after my initial debut into the feedback giving world. In my opening statements, I used word for word comments and responses from dearly loved friends and family to portray the environment I was drawing on to work through my experiences. I now feel the need to explain that I knew exactly the heartfelt manner in which the comments were intended for us. I knew that I was taking the comments in ways that I shouldn't! I am giving an honest account of the confusion I felt at the time. To my dear loved ones who gave me messages along those lines: don't apologise. Underneath all the raw stuff, I can sense your love and support and empathy! Keep being honest and don't feel the need to tread on eggshells with me. The worst that can happen now is that I'll blog about it and you will know how I worked through your comment!
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