Preschool Prayers

I recently made a list of the "things I wish I had time to do" since I feel like I just don't have enough hours in the day to do it all. The list looks something like this:

• Exercise (and lose this baby weight)
• Blog — capture, in writing, all the thoughts that flood my head every day (maybe I should journal?)
• Read — stacks of books and magazines I hope to get to someday
• Study the Bible / daily devotion time
• Spend quality time with Ryan — date nights?
• Small household projects — kitchen valance, growth chart (more on that later!), organize closets, basement, etc.

There's more, but you get the idea. So, all this is to say that I appreciate those who still check in on my little blog here from time to time. I realize that since I post so sporadically, it's likely that most of my followers (do I have any of those?) have given up on me, but I assure you, I think about stuff I want to share on here ALLTHETIME! Unfortunately, sitting down to do so doesn't happen nearly as often.

SOOOOO, I have a ton of things I want to talk about, but think that I will focus this post on what is currently banging around in my head (and heart) — Owen's first experience with preschool this week.

All summer long, I've fretted mostly about how Owen will manage to use the toilets at school without any assistance (he still struggles to pull his pants back up after the job is done). And I also thought a little about how he doesn't like to sit still or pay attention to most things for very long, but that is one of the major reasons why I decided to enroll him in the 3-year-old program — in hopes that he will get better about that. Mostly, though, I was just excited about getting a few hours twice a week to myself! And that's pretty much where my concerns ended, until three days ago.

We attended the open house at Owen's school, held the evening before his first day, this past Monday. The idea was just to introduce the kids to their classroom and (I thought) their teacher, too. The school we chose just hired a new 3-year-old preschool teacher only a couple weeks ago, so she is new. (New to this school, but not new to teaching preschool.) I will not use this platform to spread negativity about any individual, but let's just say, I was completely underwhelmed by our first meeting with her.

That night, I sat down with the paperwork that was sent home with us and tried to fill out the "getting to know you" form that asked questions such as, "what are your child's strengths/weaknesses?" and "what do you hope your child will learn this year academically/socially?" I had a tough time filling out that form. As I read through it initially, my head flooded with examples of Owen's weaknesses. But when I put pen to paper, I stopped to really think about how I wanted to answer that question. It was important to me that I listed just as many strengths as weaknesses. I didn't want my negativity to show through on this form and end up influencing his teacher's opinion of him right off the bat. So I enlisted Ryan's help. In the end, I shared that Owen has tremendous language skills, he learns new concepts quickly, asks great questions, plays well with others (keep this one in mind for later), is sweet and very funny, and loves music. However, I also explained that he struggles with focus, can be quite wild at times, tends to be a "copycat" of other kids, and is often difficult to discipline. That all seemed accurate and fair. And the night only ended in a few tears. (I'm telling you, that form was extremely hard for me to complete! Why in the world did they give that to us the night before his first day???)

So, Tuesday morning, I dropped Owen off with excitement and optimism. He seemed in good spirits and he smiled for all my pictures, so things were going well, I thought.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time at home while Nora napped and I baked banana bread and read from my book (one of my checklist items above! Woo hoo!) And I prayed for him while he was away. I prayed that he would be good and that God would guard his little heart (from fear, from embarrassment, from getting hurt).

When I picked him up, I casually asked his teacher how he did, not really having given any thought at all to what her answer would be. In hindsight, I think I just assumed I would get the same report I usually get when I pick him up from Sunday school or other nursery programs like MOPS — "he did fine." Instead, I heard something like this: "Well, he had some struggles today." Oh, like what? "Well, there was some hitting." As in, he was hitting? "Yes." Oh. "But it's just the first day." Yes, I suppose so. Was there more than that? "Well, yes. He didn't really do very well following directions either." Ok. And in the chaos of all the other parents waiting to sign out their own kids, that was pretty much the abrupt end of our conversation. I felt like an inflated balloon that had been pricked by a pin and all the air rushed out at once until I was a wrinkled, broken mess on the floor. That's how I felt. The huddled mess on the floor didn't actually come until later that day.

The more I thought about what happened, the more upset I got. I certainly don't deny that any of what the teacher said was true. (I'm well aware of my son's poor behavioral tendencies.) I think I let myself get hung up, instead, on his teacher's defeated tone of voice and unhappy facial expressions as she shared her report — which, incidentally, didn't include one single positive thing about Owen's three hours with her. I started to question whether this teacher was a good fit for Owen. Should I enroll him instead in the other preschool that I had my eye on last spring? Would they have teachers that were more enthusiastic and optimistic about kids with poor behavior on the first day?

I still actually don't know the answer to that. I'm considering the other school. But I wanted to give him (and his teacher) another try. So, today was day two of Owen's school career. Unfortunately, when I dropped him off, I discovered that his teacher was out today due to a family illness and he had a substitute. So, I wasn't able to reassess the attitude of his teacher or talk to her anymore about what happened on Tuesday. That was disappointing.

When I picked him up today and asked again how he did, the teacher's aid said, "he did better today." She also went on to say, though, that he scratched a little girl on the playground because she was headed up the ladder and he wanted to go up ahead of her. Ok, so that's better? He only scratched someone today? And that's better? Just how bad was he the other day??? A friend of mine was there to pick up her son right after me and I overheard the aid report, "he did great!" about little C. And my heart shriveled up. Right there, I felt immense jealousy that my friend's son has received two good reports and Owen has received two bad ones. In fact, all the other reports I overheard were positive. Is my kid the only troublemaker in class? How did all these other parents do such a great job prepping their 3-year-olds for the classroom and how (oh, HOW!) did I fail so miserably?

More questions flood my head today. Is Owen not ready for school yet? Does he need another year at home to mature? But would keeping him home help him with his socialization issues or would being in a classroom with other kids help him more? Should we try this other school? Is that really going to be any better? Can I honestly blame my concerns on the teacher's less-than-enthusiastic attitude? Isn't it really that I'm worried Owen is the only one in the class that causes his teachers (and classmates) headaches? And that they'll label him the "problem child?" And truly — if I'm really honest with myself — aren't I actually worried that either, A.) I am doing a horrible job parenting (and disciplining) this child, or B.) there might be something wrong with him? High functioning autism? ADHD?

Worry. Fear. Anxiety. What does God say about these things? This...this, is what he says:

"When anxiety was great within me, your consultation brought joy to my soul." (Psalm 94:19)

"Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." (1 Peter 5:7)

"He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the Lord." (Psalm 112:7)

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." (Philippians 4:6)

"When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid." (Psalm 56:3-4)

"I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears." (Psalm 34:4)

And one of my personal favorite verses: "Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long." (Psalm 25:4-5)

So I'm praying now. I'm praying hard for the Lord to reveal to me some answers. Praying that he will continue to hold Owen in his loving care and help me decipher the right paths for him here on earth. Praying for wisdom to know how to parent and discipline this child and for the strength and real faith to place my full trust in Him.

I don't know yet what the future holds for Owen or where (or IF!) he will be attending school next week. But I'm confident that God will reveal the right choices in time, so long as I seek Him.

Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.

At peace

It's been a while since I've posted anything here about my current pregnancy. Sorry about that! Good intentions, blah, blah, blah. Anyway, over the past week I began to think about what new information I could write about and, initially, I planned to share my reservations and fears about attempting a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarian) delivery. You see, I met with a doctor last week to go over the potential risks and to sign a waiver/consent form thing. It was quite unnerving. However, after my 36-week appointment (back with the midwifes!) yesterday, I am feeling SO much more secure in my decision and most of my fears have been put to rest. And as I thought about that for a moment, I realized just how remarkably at peace I am with everything that's about to happen in the next few weeks.

If you know me at all, you know that I am a Nervous Nelly. I worry. A lot. About all kinds of things. And I often have a very bad tendency to err on the negative side of life, which is something I make a conscious attempt to correct each and every day. I don't want to be that way. But I just am. Anyway, if you really know me (which most of my readers do), you'll also recall that I struggled all the way through the first few months of Owen's life. I don't love saying that. But I am confident enough in myself today that I am able to say it. And this... In the beginning, I was not very happy with my new role as a mother. Yes, Owen was a difficult baby. But I believe now that I also may have struggled with some post-partum depression issues. Fortunately, all were resolved in time and on their own, and I have since grown to LOVE being a mother and genuinely enjoy my time with Owen! But at first, it was a very big struggle for me.

And so when we started planning for baby #2, I immediately began to worry and fret that I would go through many of those same struggles all over again. The question, "why am I doing this to myself again?" kept running through my mind. Over the past 36 weeks, I honestly haven't dwelled on it or worried about it much, but that nagging fear was always buried somewhere in the back of my mind.

And it's still there. Somewhere. Buried. But today, I feel that God has granted me a refreshing sense of calm and a peace of mind about this new baby. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that I'm downright excited to do it all over again!

I'm honestly looking forward to going through the experience of labor and delivery. Some friends have told me I'm crazy. Why would I want to put myself through that pain and torture when I have an "easy out?" (It used to be said that "once a cesarean, always a cesarean," but modern medicine indicates that's just not so anymore...hence the VBAC. If you still don't know what I'm talking about, just look it up!)

Rather than worrying and feeling anxious about what might go wrong (which I was assured at my appointment yesterday is a very low risk anyway), I am instead filled with an overpowering sense of gratitude that I have this opportunity!

Having a c-section with Owen was devastating. Crushing. Very, very saddening. It was probably one contributing factor for my PPD, actually. And I've always felt like I missed out on a certain "right of passage" into motherhood. But more than that, I just felt like things were taken out of my control (which for this self-proclaimed control freak was tough). Ironically, I now have a greater sense that my life is never actually in my control (I have surrendered it all to the Lord), however, having the opportunity to physically work this baby out into the world (as opposed to the doctors doing all of "my" work for me) is so powerful. I just feel tremendously blessed that God put this baby in the proper vertex (head down) position. (Owen was in the footling breech position, therefore, the c-section.) And, although many hospitals won't even attempt VBACs (either due to staffing issues or the fear of being sued), I found myself with access to one that does and a team of midwives who are extremely supportive and encouraging about my chances.

Yes, gratitude. That is what I am feeling. Gratitude for this opportunity. Thanks to a God who is blessing me with another child...another opportunity. And I'm so excited for it!

I'm also feeling more comfortable about the challenges that lie ahead in life with a newborn baby and a busy toddler in tow. I'm not gonna lie... I'm also still anxious and worried about how well I'll handle that stress. But this feeling of being so, so, so blessed carries with it an uncharted attitude of "don't sweat it, just rejoice in it!"

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." — 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Thank you, God, for fruit snacks

I just HAD to document this one...

Tonight at bedtime, Owen and I were saying prayers, which went a little something like this:

Me: "Thank you, God, for Mommy, and thank you for Daddy, and thank you for Kinnick, and for Grandma and Papa. Is there anything else you want to thank God for, Owen?"
Owen: "Rachel."
Me: "Ok, thank you, God, for Rachel. Anything else?"
Owen: "Jackie."
Me: "Thank you, God, for Jackie. What else are you thankful for?"
Owen: "Jeff."
Me: "Thank you, God, for Jeff. What else?"
Owen: "House."
Me: "Oh, good one! Yes, thank you, God, for our house. Anything else?"
Owen: "Fruit snacks."
Me (chuckling): "Oh, yes. Thank you, God, for fruit snacks."

Gotta love him!

With a joyful heart

This is my sweet slice of heaven, right here on earth.

Ok, I don't have any concept of how amazing heaven will really be — it will probably blow this scene right out of the water. But this picture depicts so much of what is good and beautiful in my life. As I sit on my deck on this gorgeous, calm (except for the barking dog next door) morning, I am overlooking the following wonderful objects:

• Owen's swimming suit, drying on the chair across from me. He and I have had a lot of fun between our neighborhood pool and the tiny, plastic baby pool in our own backyard this summer. I wish I would have taken a picture of the scene as we left it yesterday afternoon — purple plastic baby pool, overflowing with water; garden hose laying in the grass nearby; plastic slide with its end in the water; red wagon, dripping from the hose-down it received by its young owner; lawn chair with various gardening materials (i.e., potting soil, gloves, plants, etc.) — indicating a perfect afternoon. That is, Owen happily splashing, sliding, and wielding the hose, and me potting a few plants and getting a little afternoon sun.
• The baby monitor, silent — indicating a sleeping babe and a moment of peace and quiet for this momma.
• One of several freshly potted plants — a result of yesterday's aforementioned perfect afternoon. This one, although not a flower like the others, is such a fun variety of plant. It's called "corkscrew rush" and I love its crazy grass spirals. (You can also see one pictured here in my "good-bye" gift to a friend.)
• A cup of coffee, which is one indulgent pleasure that I am fortunate to enjoy at least once a day. And on especially relaxing days, I will have a second cup, often mid-afternoon, which always feels particularly gratifying and sweet!
• My laptop, with my new favorite shot of the boy as the screen background. (Isn't he adorable???) And, although you can't probably read it, the post-it below the keyboard says, "...The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love. — Galatians 5:6" This is my new favorite scripture verse, of which I could write an entire post on its own, but I won't. Just ponder that one for now. It's fantastic!
• Finally, my Bible, which doesn't always get the first-thing-in-the-morning billing that it received today, but does get read just about every day now, which is something relatively new and wonderful in my life, per the past year. 

Currently, that Bible is open to a devotional that actually inspired me to write this post. The title is "Lighten Up," and it's about being spontaneous and flexible, and putting some fun into our days, and those of our children. One line, in particular, caught my attention. It says, "These days are filled with opportunities to make memories."

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about the memories that Owen will have of his mommy and his childhood. You might argue that at (almost!) two years old, he's still too young to form any lasting, lifelong memories. Regardless, I want to make sure that he has mostly good ones to pull from as he makes his way through life. It's something I try to remind myself of when I start feeling extra cranky and less-than excited about his messes and wild screaming. Those messes and jubilant (usually!) screams are measures of his joy! I need to let him have his fun! This is his childhood — the only one he will ever have — and he deserves a remarkable one! One that involves me, not as a nagging, grouchy, yelling caretaker, but as a loving, merry, lighthearted playmate!

Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for it is now that God favors what you do.

- Ecclesiastes 9:7

Well, that baby monitor is silent no more, so I'm off to get that amazing child out of bed and then we're headed to the pool again. Cheers, to summer! And cheers to JOY!

Your body is a temple

It has become my habit for the past year or so to read a short devotional message (and corresponding verses) every day out of the "Mom's Devotional Bible" given to me by a previous MOPS group. I love these devotionals because they very frequently manage to speak to me on a topic that I just need to hear that day (whether I know it or not). And when I read a corresponding Bible verse that puts God's message into terms I can really relate to, I like to write it down. Sometimes I write it on pretty scrapbooking cardstock. Sometimes it just gets scribbled onto a Post-It. But if you walk around my house, you will find these little "Godly reminders," as I like to think of them, all over the place.

This got me thinking that I ought to share some of those verses here on my blog. Also, in an effort to bring some the focus of this blog back to its title, that is, letting our light shine (which was pulled from Matthew 5:16, which says, "In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven."), it is my desire to shine my light on you, dear readers and loved ones, today...and hopefully in the days to come.

This morning, I read 1 Corinthians 6:19-20, which says, "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body."

The message in the devotional was about how important it is to keep our bodies healthy. It said this, which really hit home for me today: "Whether or not the lack of love for our bodies shows on the outside, the inside suffers. And eventually, the damage will be demonstrated in the form of impatience, irritability and general grouchiness." While I'm not sure that my present state of grouchiness is fully due to a lack of exercise, it certainly isn't being helped by it.

The Lord knows that I am not a big fan of exercise. I've never been an athletic person and exercise has always been a means to an end in my life, namely, to lose weight. I've been learning recently, however, that regular physical activity does not need to be so intense as to result in major weight loss to be effective. Even a short walk around the block can do wonders for my body, my mind, and my spirit. And God commands it! My body is a temple...HIS temple! And I better start taking better care of it.

I need to let go of the idea that exercise has to be grueling and painful. So today, I will go outside (despite the oppressive humidity) and simply walk around the neighborhood, and even take a dip with Owen in the community pool. That is my only goal for the day today and I hope to get it accomplished ASAP. So, I'm off to do one small thing for my body, which hopefully will result in another small benefit to my mood. I sure need it today!

Saying goodbye

It's never fun, but it's a part of life, I guess. Saying goodbye is hard. It's hard to express your sorrow in words, particularly when it's directed to the person who is leaving. But it's even harder to live with the knowledge that things just won't be the same once they're gone, no matter how much you promise to "keep in touch." Life moves on (as it should!) and our worlds get busy. And keeping in touch requires a lot more effort than you think it's going to. I've done this too many times to believe otherwise. Things will just not be the same. Period.

I am very happy for (and a little jealous of!) my dear friend, Mary S. who is packing up and moving her beautiful family about an hour west of here in just two short days. To think that I only just met her less than a year ago, it amazes me how much I've come to think of her as one of my closest current friends. Besides our names, we share a lot of coincidental similarities, including sons named Owen, degrees from Iowa State, and sisters living in Ankeny and working for the same company (until very recently). It sort of felt like we were destined to know one another!

But probably our finest similarity is our faith in and love for the Lord. I know I've grown in my spiritual journey by having her in my life these past several months and I hope she can say the same thing of me. She's helped me to open up about my beliefs and speak more freely about Christ's love to others. She's encouraged me along my journey and trials through motherhood. She's been a great sounding board for thoughts and ideas and has been a tremendous leader in our MOPS outreach program.

She will be amazing in her new community and will continue to have an impact on those she meets there. I know this to be true. But Muscatine will absolutely feel the loss of Mary. And so will I. I wish her well. No — I wish her ALL the VERY best in life! And I hope to still be a part of it in some small way, here and there. I will be forever changed by her friendship and for that, I am grateful!

I will miss you, friend!

P.S. This free "grass is greener" printable can be found here.

Martha vs. Mary

Exactly three times in the past week, the Biblical story of Martha and Mary has been presented to me in one way or another. I knew I had read this story before (it is very short!), but I had never really given it very much thought. But just now, after the third time in one week that it has crossed my consciousness, I am beginning to wonder if God is trying to tell me something.

Am I being too much like Martha and not enough like Mary? Of course I am! That's obvious. But how do I switch that around? I know I should expend more time and effort on developing relationships with others, spending time in the Word, and hearing God's message for me, than on cleaning my bathroom (which I should be doing right now), preparing meals, and paying the bills. BUT, those latter things all need to be done, too. Today, I am searching my heart to find a way to balance the "Mary" and "Martha" aspects of my life. Suggestions are welcome. :)

Feeling grateful and grace-filled

I should be working on my Christmas letter right now during Owen's nap time. Instead, I am sitting here contemplating the powerful testimony I was so privileged to hear at this morning's Bible study. The woman who spoke shared her tale of tragic child abuse and later, the unexpected death of her husband (that's a nutshell if I've ever seen one - it was an amazing story, made even more captivating by the way she told it). Her message was not one of sadness, however (despite the near "sobbing like a baby" tears that I, and most of the women at my table, were reduced to), but one of redemption, forgiveness, and grace.

I feel compelled to share with the world how grateful I am for all of the blessings in my life. I have never know such tragedy and, although I am constantly fearful of the loss of a beloved, so far I have lived what some (including myself) would call a "charmed" life. I know that things won't always be this way. The Negative Nancy inside of me is fully aware that one day, tragedy will strike. (Nancy also seems to take for granted on a daily basis so many of those beautiful blessings. Bad Nancy!) From my current perspective – which is, essentially, "easy for me to say" – I believe that I can trust in the Lord to see me through whatever life throws at me. As our speaker reminded us, He will NOT forsake us, and we should never forsake Him.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding." (Proverbs 3:5)

There's a whole lot more on my heart about this topic, but that's all I think I can say in words at this time. I'll keep praying about it...

In other news, I taught Owen about "knuckles" today. Here's a cute video of our lesson:

When I picked him up from the nursery this morning, the woman who's in charge (I always forget her name, even though it's been told to me no less than three different times) was impressed that he knew some sign language (no doubt it was "more," displayed at snack time, little glutton!) and that he was saying so many new words. Here are the latest:

• "ha" - i.e., "hat"
• "abba" - i.e., "apple"
• "too, too" - i.e., "choo, choo" (when playing with his toy train, naturally)
• "ssss" - i.e., "shhh" (with finger pressing on the tip of his nose)
• "wow, wow" - i.e., "Yo Gabba Gabba," his favorite show! (This one's been in his repertoire for a while now and I have no idea how he gets "wow, wow" from it, but whatever.)
• And recently, after his Daddy sneezed during a car ride, Owen repeated, "oh choo!" Guess I need to teach him "bless you" now.