Dacey wore her first piece of "witness wear" to school today.
Do you know what this says? I asked.
It says "Jesus loves me, and He loves you, too!" she said.
Mission-minded, that one is. My Girls In Action leaders would be so proud.
(I know, I know, the PW line tale needs conclusion. Almost ready.)
The other day I was rushing down our stairs when the thought occurred to me, "What if I fell down the stairs and knocked myself out? What would happen to the girls? How long before Kyle came home and found me lying sprawled at the bottom of the stairs?"
From my first days as an at-home mom, I've been terrified of what would happen if something majorly bad happened to me while I was home alone with my children. So of course, as soon as I felt like Dacey was old enough to understand, I started teaching her how to call 911.
The hurried trip down the stairs inspired me to run a refresher course with Dacey on the logistics of the 911 call.
Me: Dacey, do you remember what to do if there is an emergency and you need to call 911?
Dacey: First, find the phone.
Me: Where is the phone?
Dacey: On your nightstand.
Me: Good. Then what?
Dacey: Dial 9-1-1. (She picked up the phone and showed me the numbers.)
Me: What button do you have to push first?
Dacey: The green button.
Me: Good! Okay, now remember, you should only call 911 if there is an emergency in our house, like if Mommy fell down the stairs or fell off of a chair or a stool (we have high cabinets, okay? Kitchen acrobatics are not unusual around here) and if it looks like I am asleep but you can't seem to get me to wake up . . .
Dacey: Or if you have pink eye
Me: Or if I . . . wait. WHAT? No! No, you cannot call 911 if I have pink eye.
My mind flashed to our first accidental 911 call. The child who called 911 was not the one who had been instructed in the ways of 911. No, it was the newly one year old Little Sister who adores the phone and who, in an unsupervised moment, had managed to push just the right buttons to summon a nice-looking young officer of the law to our home in our new community.
My face had flushed bright red as I stammered out that we were all quite fine and it must have been my daughter and I'm so very, very sorry. He narrowed his eyes a bit and asked, "Are you sure?" as if to make sure that I wasn't hiding some horrific catastrophe behind the only partially opened front door. Truth be told, there probably was a horrific catastrophe in our living room, but it was more of the stuffed-animal-littered-floor-and-piles-of-clean-folded-un-put-away-laundry-everywhere variety rather than anything involving blood, weapons, or paraphernalia of one kind or another.
I returned to the moment at hand and explained with more detail and more emphasis to Dacey exactly what sort of situations merited a call to 911. When I felt slightly more comfortable with her grasp on the concept of emergency, I changed the subject, but not before wondering how long it would be before our address was flagged as The Cry Wolf House.
Meeting people and making friends in a small town can be an overwhelming and intimidating task. I suppose, however, if worse comes to worse we could always resort to summoning new friends via an "accidental" call to the good people of 911.
This post is my submission to my friend Jamie of Steady Mom's 30 Minute Blog Challenge. Post time, start to finish: 28 minutes (with much gratitude to Sesame Street).
photo by EMS_EMT
In the past ten days, two of my most dear long-time friends have welcomed new baby girls into this world. One of them stalwartly refuses to blog, no matter how much I prod her; the other is friend Laura whom you may know from the Peacoat Papers - proud new mama to Pigtail.
All of the baby girl sweetness is triggering some major pink bundle nostalgia for me. I flipped back through my archives and found this post from November 2007 (the only month I tortured myself with NaBloMoPo - oy! Never again.).
Thoughts on raising up these little girls:
What worries you most about raising daughters?
This question, from my sweet friend Corey at Living and Loving Every Minute of It, has prompted a lot of reflection for me.
I remember with vivid accuracy how elated I was when the ultrasound tech moved the wand over my belly and proclaimed over D, "It's a girl!" Over the moon, I was. Visions of sugar and spice, of tutus and dress-up heels, of shopping for prom dresses and a wedding dress, began to dance in my head. "A girl baby! A girl baby!" my nieces shrieked when they were told our happy news. Little girls and grown-up girls alike go a little ga-ga over brand new bundles of pink and sweet. Gazing into those baby girl eyes, we imagine a sparkly future replete with all the glittery memories of our own girlhoods. Pigtails and baby dolls. Slumber parties and puppy love. Phone calls and pom-pons.
As a mother to not one, but now two, little visions in pink, I daydream those sunny futures for my girls. And as a mother, I am sometimes gripped with extraordinary fear when my thoughts take a turn down darker paths. Sometimes it's a story on the news that triggers a nearly paralyzing reaction in me as I consider what evil could be waiting to prey on my precious daughters. Other times, a flash of memory from my own past takes my breath away as I consider how painful it can be to grow from girl to woman. So yes, in the midst of the ribbons and bows, I worry.
For I know all too well the sting of a best friend's rejection . . . She doesn't want to be my friend anymore.
I know the heartache of not being good enough . . . My name wasn't on the list.
I know the sorrow of a broken heart . . . He just wants to be friends.
I know that even if I confined my daughters to our house, that somehow the hurt and the sad would still find its way in. I guess what worries me most is that I am helpless to protect them from the scrapes and stings and tears and blue that are all part of being wrapped up in this skin called woman. I am as helpless as my own mother was to protect me from the many dramas (both real and imagined) that she walked me through and talked me through. As each of us know, those lows that come with the highs and the pain that comes with the joy are all part of what makes us who we are as women. I'll always be fighting that urge to protect them, even as I loosen my grip on their hands to allow them freedom to experience this life for themselves.
There is so much to be tempted to worry over. In the face of that worry, I am reminded to pray. I pray so much for my daughters, but my most earnest request for each is that the love they fall for first would be the ever-pursuing, ever-steady love of The Bridegroom. For if each of my daughters is rooted and established in the love of Christ first and foremost, I can be sure that when the day of hurt and heartbreak finds them, they will have a safe place to land . . . in His Arms.
I had sorta planned on an As He Leads Us post for today, but in all honesty, my heart and head are just reeling in the wake of the news of Gabriella Vega's stroke last week. Every time I type or say that word - stroke - I just cannot believe this is really happening to sweet Princess G.
She is four years old.
I've watched that sweet girl with the blond curls grow from darling little baby to vivacious preschooler, and to see her confined to a hospital bed without words and with little movement overwhelms me with crushing sadness.
My every other thought is of her and her mama Kristi and daddy Paul and little brother PJ.
I've found solace in the practice of gratitude. With every laugh and through all the chatter and amidst the wrestling rough-housing from the girls, my heart stretches and snaps to Arizona, to Kristi at Gabriella's bedside, praying that she'll hear Gabriella's voice again soon.
I'm slowing down to listen and hold close and soak up the rhythms and routines and blessed normalcy of each day.
I'm
17. getting lost in the zen-like calm of snapping green beans at the sink.
19. indulging in a few extra moments with my fingers dug deep in appreciation of that mystical feel of flour and butter which have become one in the moments before the buttermilk splashes and reminds the buttered flour that biscuits need making.
20. happy sighing over biscuits that rise up and come out just right.
22. overjoyed to spend a Saturday afternoon on a quilt under the canopy of a pecan tree whose paternal arms have shielded decades of seekers-of-the-slow. Markers took to journals while the last of the summer cicadas sang.
23. aching heart over the joyful innocence of Dacey's art where the sun shines always and every face beams with smile.
*****
I can never, ever put words to my gratitude for each and every one of you. When I think back on the humble start of SC, I just shake my head. At the start, I was just gonna talk about some cloth diapers a little bit, and now look at this place. Just amazing.
Over the weekend, I hatched a plan. I have been praying unceasingly for the Vega family, but I feel so helpless to help all these miles away. But then I thought maybe . . . maybe I can help. Here's the plan:
I'm going to put together an online raffle to be hosted here at SC. All of the proceeds from the raffle will go to the Vega family to bless them and help ease some of the burden of the many expenses they are accruing in the midst of this circumstance.
To host a really great raffle that honors a really amazing little girl, I need some really big help. That's where you come in. I know there are some wonderfully, tremendously gifted people that hang out here.
Would you like to join me in this by donating a prize to the raffle?
Here are some ideas:
* Anything handmade or created by you - knitted, crocheted, letterpressed, photographed - any kind of handwork or art
* Services you might offer - digital card creation, mama card design, blog design
* Products that you want to purchase for donation
The details are very loose right now. I've never taken on a project of this size, but I've got a team of friends from the mothering community through which we all know the Vegas who have stepped up to help pull this thing off.
So this is our invitation to those who want to be directly involved in the creation of the raffle prize packages. If you want in, leave a comment here or email me at sortacrunchy at gmail dot com.
*****
If your Monday promises nothing but the usual, hold your dear ones close and offer a breath of thanks to God for normal.
You can join others on the path of gratitude each Monday at Holy Experience.
This is my entry for this month's PerPoTues (Perfectly Poetical Tuesday) at Little Stuff of Life.
Last April, Dacey and I planted sunflower seeds in the most sun-soaked spot we could find. We watered and worried and watered and worried. Finally, tender green shoots grew into mighty stalks, but the buds were so slow to appear. The one above was the only one that really lived up to its blooming potential. I'm so glad I snapped a few shots of it when I did, because it was only a matter of days before it drooped and died.
As we bustle around making last minute preparations for tomorrow's First Day of School, my mind is adrift in metaphor, pondering this little bud over whom I've watered and worried and watered and worried. Keeping the camera close at hand . . .
May 15th? Seriously? I'm still thinking in April.
1. I'm still rather swamped - so behind in emails, blog reading, and other obligations. I have to tell you something I find to be pretty hilarious. You know the bird in that swamped picture? My friend Paige informed that it actually is a quite exotic and rare bird - the yellow-crowned night heron. He ususally lives "along the Gulf coast, Florida, and along the south Atlantic coast. It also breeds along the coasts of Mexico, the Caribbean islands, Central America, and the north and east coasts of South America." How on earth did he find his way to Oklahoma? The best part? The part that really got Kyle and I to laughing? These herons like to call wooded swamps and marshes home. I told you we've had a lot of rain!
2. Notable news in our family this week - AJ is putting two word sentences together! As you know, Dacey had a severe speech delay, so to have this development happen at this point for AJ has been very exciting.
3. Evidently, we scarcely missed being in the path of a twister this week. We had no idea. Just thought it was another thunderstorm. Clearly, Kyle and I have forgotten how to do spring in Oklahoma. Guess we need to reaquaint ourselves with Gary.
4. I've been up way too late for too many nights this week, mostly catching up with some friends (JLB, I'd link to you, too, but for reasons I know not, you don't blog). Said friends all live on the West Coast, therefore, normal chit-chat hours for them are past my bedtime. (It was all worth every stinkin' second!) Anyway, I think Dacey has been reading the blog behind my back, because she has taken a sudden interest in helping me clean house. What a help to her no-one's-fault-but-her-own-sleep-deprived-mother!
5. So, over at Simple Kids this week, I asked for everyone to share their unsung favorites of children's lit. WOW! What an amazing list that has been generated! If you are looking for new books to check out, this is an incredible list to reference.
6. At Modern Media Mom, Karla shared a super helpful and inspiring post on setting up a home office. (Here's another great home office view - link via Laura.) Reading in Karla's recent thoughts on working at home helped me to realize that with the writing and the Simple Kids gig and my other endeavors, I really need to claim some work space. I was so inspired by her article, I started snooping through Craigslist and dug out a tape measure and marked off spaces around the house, and I made a plan. If the darling desk I found on Craigslist pans out (it will be my first CL furniture purchase, so I'm a little bit skeptical), I am going to be on my way to clearing a spot in which to work. Pics and details to come!
7. Thank you all so much for your words of support and prayer for my friend Kristi. They had a difficult and sobering meeting with the transplant nurse this week. I am just heavy with grief for them. Please, please continue to pray for them and for Princess G. I believe God is in this, but these circumstances shake my faith in monumental ways.
So that's where we are as this week draws to a close. What are you all up to this mid-May weekend?
Because of our As He Leads Us series, Laura and I get emails from time to time from mothers who need to find a sleep solution for their little one but are hesitant to follow a cry-it-out approach. Both Laura and I usually recommend to readers that they look into one of Elizabeth Pantley's No-Cry books. What began as the No-Cry Sleep Solution eventually led to more books in the series including No-Cry Nap Solution (her newest book), No-Cry Discipline Solution, No-Cry Potty Training Solution, and the No-Cry Sleep Solution for Toddlers and Preschoolers.
Although I have the No-Cry Sleep Solution, I haven't found it necessary to practice her strategies because we generally practice part-time cosleeping in the first year without much need for a change. Laura has modified some of the approaches in the first No-Cry book to use in their family and has found success with that.
To be honest, I now find myself in desperate need of a sleep solution with our AJ. She is twenty months old and for various reasons, she cannot/will not sleep in bed with us at night. (It's crowded in there already, too.) She still wakes up no less than twice a night, which on its own is not fun, but additionally bedtime has been turning into a battle with her. We have never had bedtime problems with Dacey. She honestly has always willingly and happily drifted off to dream land. AJ, who is of course her exact opposite, knows that bedtime means she's missing the party and is becoming increasingly resistant to calling it a day.
Last week, I ordered the No-Cry Sleep Solution for Toddlers and Preschoolers, and I have to tell you that I am super impressed. First of all, there is a ton of information packed in its nearly 400 pages. Pantley provides some great sleep basics, expands on eight sleep tips for every child, and then goes into how to find gentle sleep solutions for twenty-five unique scenarios. She covers everything from children who are resistant to bedtime to transitioning from family bed to independent sleep, moving from crib to big kid bed, and even covers sleep transitions when adopting a toddler or preschooler and how allergies, asthma, and GERD situations can be dealt with.
I so appreciate Pantley's approach for several reasons. First of all, she advocates gentle solutions. Secondly, she is compassionate towards families who practice shared sleep and continue with nighttime nursing. Her attitude towards parents is never harsh, critical, or judgmental. She never implies that the bedtime problems have arisen from poor or weak parenting skills; rather, she is encouraging, motivating, and empathetic.
I love what she says at the beginning of the book
Your child is getting enough sleep, you're getting enough sleep, and everyone in the household is happy with how things are going. The problem is that your in-laws, your friend, or your neighbor is telling you that something in the way you are doing things is wrong and must be changed . . . Here's the bottom line: if your child is getting enough sleep, you all are sleeping well, and the people who live in the home are happy with the way things are working out, then nothing needs to be fixed, regardless of what anyone else has to say about your family's sleeping situation (p. 14).
How encouraging for families who take up an "alternative" approach to sleep!
But, as I said, we are at a point where we do have something(s) that need to be fixed. So I am in the process of working through the book to see what sort of solution will work best for us.
One side note - as I was skimming through the various scenarios that Pantley offers solutions to, I found a chapter on "The Night Visitor: Trips to the Parent's Bed." One of the approaches is to create "The Weekend Promise" where kids who sleep in their own bed throughout the week get to sleep with the parents on the weekend. It made me smile, thinking of my own childhood where a Friday night campout in our parents' room was always a special treat. We made up pallets (makeshift beds) on the floor and watched TV and movies as a family, and stayed up late (probably more fun for us than for my parents!). My mom was always an advocate of the family bed in many ways, and another treat for us as children was getting to sleep with mom when dad was away on business trips. Come to think of it, my mom has always championed my inclination towards gentle sleep solutions!
I'll keep you updated on our No-Cry work with AJ. She's a leetle bit on the stubborn side, so I know we have our work cut out for us.
I'll be out of town through the rest of the weekend, so here's wishing you an early Happy Mother's Day!
ALSO - winner of Bold Avenue giveaway is commenter #12 - Denise - who said
I love their tote bags, especially the flower ones and the ducky family one.
Happy shopping, Denise!
