We kind of love this guy.

Today is Ben's birthday. I think that the kids and I are more excited than he is. We kind of love this guy, perhaps for slightly different reasons. 

I asked the kids why they loved their dad and was given the following list:

• He's fun.
  
• He's nice.
• He's silly. 
• Dada!
• He takes care of us. 
• He walks with us.
• No.  
• He makes circles.
• He helps me find flowers. 
• Hiccup.
• He is helpful.
• He is playful.
• Drink!

You might be able to ascertain which kid contributed what part of that list. 

Part of the reason I love Ben is that he is an amazing father to these little munchkins. There is nothing sweeter than the sound of little girl giggles as their dad chases them around the house. Although, the sound of a seven year old and his dad talking about going camping and figuring out what they need is just as sweet.

Happy Birthday to my dear husband of nearly ten years. I wouldn't change a thing about our past because all the mistakes we've made, times we've had to forgive each other, pain, and suffering helped to bring us to where we are today. And, that is a wonderful place.

Let boys climb trees.

A week or two ago, I stumbled across an article about how in America we overprotect our children. We don't let them do things where they can get hurt and therefore, they never learn how to set their own boundaries.

One of the things mentioned in the article is that we should let kids climb trees. I read this and thought "I agree with that, we should let kids climb trees." So, I did what any good mom would do...I waited until Ben got home and then told him it was now part of his fatherly duties to teach Connor how to climb a tree. Ben embraced this idea and agreed that there was nothing wrong with some good old fashioned tree climbing.

Here is the problem. When I think about letting kids climb trees, I am thinking in my mind about a small tree at a park. I think about how you could do a tree survey and find the best tree for climbing. The kind of tree where if you fell out of the tree you'd maybe twist your ankle and get a few scrapes. Oh, and it should probably also have notched out footholds and come with some sort of safety harness where you can't actually fall and get hurt. Ever.

When Ben thinks about teaching Connor how to climb a tree he does not envision safety harnesses or foot holds. He doesn't see any reason to inspect seventy five trees and then decide which one provides the overall best climbing experience with the least amount of risk. In fact, all he really does is look out the front door and then say "hey Connor, do you want to climb that tree out there?"

This brought out many concerns from me. Such as:

1. Aren't those branches too small?
2. What if he falls and breaks his neck?
3. He is going to get stuck up there! 
4. What if he falls and breaks his neck?

To which Ben responded:

1. No. They aren't too small. Connor doesn't weigh very much. 
2. He would likely break his leg or his arm, not his neck. 
3. If he gets stuck then he'll have to figure out how to get unstuck. We can't climb this tree. 
4. If he fell he would hit most of those branches on the way down and that would help break his fall. 

I don't find any of these answers satisfactory. And, I usually end up leaving Ben and Connor outside with these parting words: "I'm going in. If he falls and breaks his neck, I'm not going to watch it happen." 

Now Connor is a tree climbing fool. He climbs this tree almost everyday with the ultimate goal of reaching the very top of the tree before I freak out and tell him it is time to get down and that he has climbed far enough. 

I think I might be a mom. 

Motherhood: A work in progress

It has been nearly eight years since I became a mother. Eight years since I held my little son in my arms for the first time. Eight years since I realized that my husband and I were now responsible for the well being of another person. We would shape his mind, help mold his character, teach him our faith, and try our best to be good parents to this new little one. Eight years since that terrifying moment of clarity.

Over the past eight years a lot has changed. We've moved four times, lost four children in the womb, cut our income in half, cut it in half again, given birth to two sweet daughters, endured graduate school, survived a vicarage, and grown ever closer together as a family. Despite all these changes, our commitment to our first child, and now our subsequent children, hasn't changed. We still want to do all that we can to make them into the very best little versions of themselves that they can be.

We've learned a lot over the years and I am sure we have a lot more to learn. I mean, we haven't hit the teenage years yet, which seems like it will be nothing but a learning experience. Here are the top eight things I've learned about being a mother over the last eight years.

1. When they say "you have to pick your battles," they mean it. I have to decide what things I am willing to fight my children on and what things I'm not. The decisions I make may seem strange to others around me. They may feel that I've picked the wrong battles. Focused on things I shouldn't have and let go of things I should have focused on. They don't know my kid and they don't have to parent my kid. That is a special task that God has left up to me and my husband. (With lots of influence from our therapists). 
2. Even though my children will most definitely behave as if I am, I am not breaking them by being tough on them and having expectations for them. Kids are actually really resilient. 
3. Kids are sinners. They will lie to you, manipulate you, try to find ways to hurt you, and just in general be awful sometimes. 
4. I am a big sinner too. I don't love my children the way I should. I don't give selflessly to them. I lose my patience, have temper tantrums, say hurtful things, and just in general behave awful sometimes. 
5. It is all about forgiveness. My family would not be able to function if I wasn't willing to seek the forgiveness of my spouse and children when I mess up, when I fail them, when I sin. And by seeking their forgiveness, I am teaching them to seek mine when they make mistakes too. 
6. Children are way more capable of learning the faith than most churches give them credit for. With an appalling lack of effort on my part, my children know who Jesus is, that He died on the cross, that He rose again, the Lord's prayer, the creeds, and find comfort in their baptism. 
7. My relationship with both my mom and my mother in law is strengthened through my children. They are always there to answer my questions, listen to me complain, and give me advice. Plus, they love my kids. A lot. Which is pretty amazing considering what little stinkers I have. 
8. I am not doing this mom thing as well as I wish I was, but I am not doing as bad as I think I am either. I don't have all the answers. I won't ever have them and I still have a lot to learn. Sometimes I am going to mess up and make mistakes, but sometimes I am going to do just the right thing, the perfect thing. Either way, I know this: I am a way better mom than I was on that October day when a little 5 lb 13 oz bundle of trouble was placed in to my arms. My kids? They are going to be okay. 

The Big Top

I didn't get to go on my class field trip to the circus when I was a little kid. I think I might have had the chicken pox or something like that. I did eventually go when I was older and I remember being mostly terrified that something horrible was going to happen to one of the performers during the show and not enjoying it all that much.

It is no surprise, then, that I haven't ever taken our children to the circus. I don't want them to be completely traumatized when the trapeze artists falls, the lion tamer gets eaten, and the guy doing bicycle tricks breaks his leg. And, mostly I don't want to take out the small loan required to take your kids to any kind of live performance.

However, recently  I was able to watch a circus performance that caused me no such anxiety. It was the Preschool, Kindergarten, 1st, and 2nd grade circus show at Connor's school. Now, I'll admit that when Connor told me about the circus that I thought it would be mildly entertaining and somewhat cute. When he told me he was going to be a strongman and wear a muscle suit, I thought it was going to be pretty ding dang cute. However, I wasn't prepared for the full onslaught of adorable that happened that night. Seriously folks, it was freaking adorable. There was almost too much cuteness and not just the parts that my son was in.

Here are some of the pictures that I managed to get from our not so perfect seats.

A circus parade. 

 My strongman waiving at me in the parade.

You don't have to worry that she'll break her neck if she falls.

 

 Check out those muscles.

 Really focusing to get those weights in the air.

Checking out some of the other acts while he works out.

The best part is that Trinity puts on the this circus every year...well every year for the past 19 years. That means that next year I'll get to see Sophia participate and get to experience the adorableness all over again. 

The munchkins.

A beautiful afternoon after three days of rain calls for some backyard photos. Wouldn't you agree?

You've got me.

Connor, because he is my son (therefore awesome), likes to make lists. Last night he was making a list of the necessary steps to clean his room. He thought it would help him focus on just one thing at a time and would help him not to get overwhelmed.

I get this concept.

Sophia, not to be out down by her brother (ever) also demanded her own list. Her's made a whole lot less sense to me, but I dutifully wrote it all down.

 Here she is with her list of things...to do?

And now you understand why I found this list confusing. 

But, who am I to judge the inner workings of Sophia's brain. I guess I should just be happy that she inherited my list making tendencies.