My Favorite...

...picture of the day from our trip to the Frontier Culture Museum.

It's so rare to get them all together like this, but this moment happened easily and naturally, as they listened to a fiddle player and a guitar player.

I adore these boys!  Happy sigh...

So There's This Boy...

...and his name is...well, maybe I won't say his name.  But I will tell you that he is in Josiah's group violin lesson, and his behavior is horrible.  H-O-R-R-I-B-L-E.  When the teacher asks everyone to stand up to play a piece, he sits down.  When the teacher leads them in a G scale, he plays the whole thing a note off, just to mess it all up.  When the teacher tries to give instructions, he doesn't listen but instead plays a shrill trill on the E string.  Everything he can do to communicate his disrespect is done, it seems, with not a shred of self-control present in his little body.  And not only does he not control himself, apparently no one else can either.

I feel sorry for his private teacher; I don't know how she takes it.  I feel sorry for his group teacher; her strategy seems to be to placate him and let him have his way, with only occasional verbal requests for him to behave properly (and it goes without saying that those requests are generally ignored by him).  I feel sorry for his dad who has to deal with his behavior (I've never seen his mom, so I don't know the story there).  And you know what else?  I feel sorry for him.

He wouldn't act that way unless he had been allowed to get away with his rebellion and disobedience during the formative years of his early childhood.  It seems to me that this is clearly a situation where his parents need to take responsibility for the troublemaker they have created.

But here's my reason for venting in this post about my vexation with him.  My heart aches for him...and for his family...and for those whose paths cross his; and I long to reach out to him and his family and help them see that it doesn't have to be this way.  But how do I do that?  How would Jesus treat him, if Jesus Himself were sitting in that rehearsal hall?  What kind of conversation would Jesus have with his dad?  How can I (and Josiah) be Jesus with skin on to this lost, hurting boy...and his bewildered, hurting dad?

I have no interest in becoming a self-righteous Pharisee, looking down the end of my nose at the sinner before me; and even more, I have no interest in raising one.  I want to help Josiah to be humble, to truly grasp the idea of "there, but for the grace of God, go I."  At the same time, my blood boils and my mama bear instincts come out when I see that boy messing with my son.  I want to go up to him and growl menacingly, "Don't you dare, kid.  I know you think you can get away with anything, but don't even think about laying a hand on my son."  Today, when he literally reached out and started physically bugging Josiah, I was proud of my son when he turned to the boy and said, "Quit it!"  And in fact, after we left the lesson, I said, "If that happens again, you can say that loudly to him, so that the teacher can hear you and know what is going on!"  :)  But I also tried to emphasize that we're commanded to not sin, even when we're angry, so Josiah has a responsibility to be careful of how he speaks and acts to that boy, even when Josiah is provoked.

I know that because we homeschool, we rarely encounter situations like these.  We're insulated from the disobedience, disrespect, rebellion, and bullying that appears to be so common in the world today.  We act deliberately and work hard to build and maintain a culture of respect in our home.  Maybe that's why behavior like this boy exhibits is so shocking to us.

More than shocked though, the emotion I mostly feel is sadness.  That poor boy.  He's going to have such a rough path through life unless he learns to bow his head in submission to authority.

How can we help him?  What can we do?  I'm stymied.

Thoughts???

Bedtime in the Fisher Household Is Like...

...a rousing game of Whack-a-Mole:  not because I'm going around with a mallet hitting anyone on the head :), but because trying to wrestle all four boys into bed--and keep them there--feels nearly impossible sometimes.  I get three in, but then--POP--out comes one.  I corral him back into his room; but uh oh, there goes another.

Shav is the easy one; once he's in bed, he stays there and can't get out.  Gotta love cribs...and boys that are too little to climb out.  :)  But the other three!  I go around, turning out lights, giving kisses, pulling blankets up under chins, feeling thankful that I finally got Tobin wrestled into bed (because when you're two, bed is not a place you want to go, especially if there are lights on in another part of the house and a daddy awake somewhere away from you!).  Tobin's in bed, but where's Josiah?  He slipped away to go downstairs and give Jeff a good night hug and kiss, but he hasn't come back.  How long does it take to say good night anyway?  "Josiah," I call down the steps, "you need to come up now!"  He does, a little reluctantly, and I rejoice that everyone is in bed.  I say good night and breathe a sigh of relief.  Time to make my way down the stairs and enjoy a little me-time.

But wait.  What's that I hear?  Tobin needs to poop?  Groan.  Back up the stairs I go.  It feels like it takes forever to get him settled again, and my patience level is not quite as high as it was the first go-round.  But I make it through without losing my cool, sometimes by remembering my grandmother's advice, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."  OK, I'll keep my mouth shut so I don't hurt his feelings by my impatient tone of voice.  Blow him a kiss.  Out the door I go.  Down the steps.  Ah...

Oh no.  David's up now?  What does he need?  A drink of water.  Sigh.  Didn't I remind him that he needs to get a drink before he gets in bed because, of course, if he gets up to get a drink, Tobin will have to get up, too.  Here we go again.  Will they ever all fall asleep??

Who needs games at a carnival when I can have such fun playing Whack-a-Mole in the comfort of my own home?

But at least, my boys are such cute moles.  ;-)

Airport. Waiting. Boys. Entertaining.

I've just about used up my quota of words for today.  I hope these pictures and videos from yesterday are self-explanatory.

See Josiah at the bottom right of the picture?  He was crawling under there so he could surprise Tobin.  It worked.  :)

I couldn't help taking a lot of pictures of Jeff and Shav.  Whew...something about the man you love holding the baby you love...melts me every time.

What does your family do when you're waiting in an airport?  Us?  We do...well...we do some of this:

The moment we were waiting for.  Who can stay completely dry-eyed at that first cry of "Grandma!" and the headlong dash towards her?

Not me, folks.  Not me.

Expectation

~ Jeff took this picture of me when I was heavily pregnant with Tobin - December 2007

Before I say anything else, let me answer one question:  no, I am not pregnant.  :)  But as I thought about the idea of expectation, I couldn't think of any time in my life that better exemplifies this than when I've been pregnant and longing ardently to meet my unborn child.  That's expectation!

I've had expectation on the brain because Jeff's mom arrived today, and all of us - but particularly Josiah and David - have been waiting in expectation for her to come.  It's a beautiful thing to watch the boys' excitement build and build and build until the moment when they first see her and run into her arms.

When I think about the way I relate to my Heavenly Father (or Daddy in Heaven, to state it more casually), I am encouraged by this verse to not just pray about things, not just wait to see how He works on my behalf, but to wait in expectation.  Expectation is being sure of results.  When I'm reaching the end of a pregnancy, I am sure that I will deliver that baby and meet it face to face.  As the days ticked down for Grandma Fisher to arrive, Josiah and David were sure that she would come and they would see her.  I need to grow in my willingness to wait expectantly...

...and that demands faith.

Farewell to the Cheetahs

Today was David's last soccer game ("not forever," he keeps reminding us as he proudly wears the medal of participation that he received today, "just for this season").  Here are some things I'll remember from the past eight Saturday mornings...

...how I was proud of David for (almost always) staying focused on the game.  Focus can be a challenge for him, but I thought he did really, really well in this area.

 ...how David was a solid, middle-of-the-road player for his team who scored some goals - not as skillful as Grayson (the coach's son and stand-out player on the team), but better than Jack (the assistant coach's son who seemed a little too young to even care about being out there on the field).  The age range for this league is 4 to 6 years old, and that's quite a range!  The developmental changes that occur during those years are huge.

...how Josiah wished he could be out on the field playing, too...and how he raced up and down the sideline, keeping even with the ball, and occasionally having the opportunity to kick it back in bounds ("in bounds" being a very loose term in this league!).  Also, how he kept score in his head (even though this is a non-competitive league that doesn't keep score or rank teams or anything like that)...and how he let his true competitive feelings show when he referred, in private conversation with me, to the other team as "the enemy."

...how the Great Snack Debate ignited more passion than I would ever have guessed.

...how I, for the most part, felt confident handling all four boys by myself (except for the day when it was my turn to hand out snacks)...and how, several years ago when Josiah played and David was my toddler, I fretted at the difficulty of keeping up with two boys!  We humans are blessed with a marvelous ability to adapt and get used to reality as it changes; and in my case, with the doubling of my number of children, I'm so grateful for that adaptation!  

...how my parents came to several of the games and how we were all so excited to see them there.

...how Tobin had fun running around, rarely watching the game, but being happy anyway...and how Shav contentedly sat for part of the hour in his stroller, and spent the rest of the time scooting around (and occasionally needing to be chased and retrieved when he scooted too far towards the playing field).

...how, at the end of several games, Tobin couldn't make it to the minivan without severely testing the boundaries and displaying his stubborn streak...how insecure I felt as a mom when I had to literally pick him up and carry him to the van, his loud protests marking every step, and other parents watching to boot...how I tried to reassure myself with the thought that, "if they're parents, then SURELY it's happened to them, and they're watching out of sympathy and not condemnation."  Still, it's no fun to deal with public temper tantrums.

...how Laura, the mom of David's teammate Phillip, is battling cancer...and how she is handling it with such grace and poise and outward-focus, not victim-mentality...how I wrote a heartfelt card for her and gave it to her today and how we hugged and shed tears together as we talked about cancer.

It's been a good season; and although I won't mind having my Saturday mornings back, I will miss seeing my beloved David having so much fun wearing his bright yellow shirt, chasing a dirty white sphere, and being part of a team.  Thanks, Cheetahs; it's been a blast!

Stop, Drop, and...Play!

I woke up this morning and thought, "I don't feel very well; I wonder if I'm getting sick," which was a logical query because Shav, the poor dear, has been suffering from a little cold, and to a lesser extent, so have Josiah and Tobin.  But then I remembered that I've felt this way FOR WEEKS.  Ah, allergies, thou art a dreadful beast!  You make me feel a little bit sick every day, but never sick enough for me to cancel everything and stay in bed with the hope of a quick recovery.  You're not a severe affliction, but you are a lingering one, and at times I chafe under the burden of you!

This morning got off to a mediocre start--not terrible--but the cheerfulness in the household was only hanging on by a tenuous thread.  It was time for drastic measures.  Instead of sticking to the schedule and doing our regular school stuff and squeezing in household chores in spare minutes, it was time to throw all that out the window and play!  (I've written before about using play to reverse the spiral of disintegrating attitudes, and included a quote to that effect from Laurie Sargent.  Play is powerful!)  My mind wasn't up for the task of going over Josiah's list of prepositions or doing lesson 80-something in David's reading book.  I declared it a day of art, and we went to Plan B.

Since Jeff's mom is coming in just two days for a much-anticipated four-week-long visit, Josiah has been asking me if we had some big paper he could use to make a welcome banner for her.  I, not being the crafty mom who keeps rolls of large paper on hand, told him that I didn't really have anything big, but that we could still make a banner for her, using one sheet of paper for each letter and printing the outline of the letter on the computer so we could fill it in by hand with colored pencils or stickers or whatever.  He was quite content with the plan, and we got to work.

First, we all sat around the kitchen table (except Shav, who was in his crib for his morning nap).  Josiah and David started working on their pages, and I helped Tobin with his, especially because it was a little tricky for him to do the stickers all by himself.  So there I was, sitting at the table, glued to one spot because of Tobin's need for me, blank paper in front of me, colored pencils beside me.  At first, I thought I should read some of our schoolbooks to the boys while they were decorating the paper; then I thought that I should, at least, read some just-for-fun books to them; then I thought, "Dash it all!" - like Gopher says in the Winnie-the-Pooh movie; can you hear his voice in your head when you read, "Dash it all"?  :) - "I'm going to color, too!"

I'm not sure when the last time was that I had colored, but I'm pretty sure it had been too long.  I need to take advantage of the fact that I have little people in my life to just sit down with them and color.  I suppose I could do it even if I didn't have little people around me, but I'd feel even sillier doing it without them.  :)

Later in the day, as the afternoon sunshine streamed into Josiah's room, he spent part of his quiet time coloring more pages.

Even later in the day, we started hanging the pages from the bookshelves in the room in which Jeff's mom will stay, so that she can look at them often.  She, who was married to a truly great artist, may not see much artistic value in these taped-onto-shelves papers...

...but I'm sure she'll see love:  in this A that Josiah decorated...

...in this D that David did...

 ...in this O that the big boys collaborated on...

...and even in this A that I scribbled on.

No artistic value, to be sure, but lots and lots of love...and a poignant reminder to me to stop, drop, and play!

My First Job...

...after I got married was...

Well, this little item that Jeff found today while sorting through a box of stuff in our garage will tell you:

Yes, I worked for a quaint little Hallmark shop in a gorgeous southern California town.  The Hallmark store was across the street from the barber shop where Jeff worked, and we could sometimes ride to work together if our schedules meshed or take a break at the same time and get some ice cream at the Baskin Robbins a few doors down from the barber shop.  In the middle of the street that separated my workplace from his, there is a lovely grassy median with beautiful, well-tended flowerbeds.  Sometimes we would sit there and enjoy the glorious California sunshine.  It was idyllic.

I had graduated from college a few months previously with a degree in music, and I was planning to teach private lessons; but while I waited for word-of-mouth advertising to spread and bring me students, I enjoyed the chance to work at a low-stress, mostly carefree job--a welcome change of pace from my stressful final year of college.  Plus, there is so much pretty stuff to look at in a Hallmark shop!  It was a challenge to not spend my whole paycheck on items from the store.  :)

Wanna know why I quit?  I guess there are three main reasons.  First, I was acquiring more piano students, and my teaching schedule was getting fuller.  Second, I was sometimes scheduled to work on Sundays; and by this time, we had committed to a congregation for which I wanted to be free to participate in Sunday activities.  Third--this was a big one--I found myself in a tough ethical situation.  This is silly, and you can laugh, but here was the problem:  in essence, I was being asked to lie.  About what?  Beanie Babies.  

How ridiculous is that!  Little balls of fluff and fabric that sold for only a few dollars, and I was throwing away my soul for them!  OK, I'm being a little dramatic, but I truly was uncomfortable with how the management of the shop expected us to deal with those troublesome little Beanie Babies.  If you recall, they were HOT items back in the day; and customers would stalk us (well, sort of) to find out when a shipment was coming and which Beanie Babies would be in it.  We were not allowed to keep an official waiting list of which customers wanted which Beanie Baby; but oh!--here's the rub--the unofficial preferred customers, the people who were personal friends of the owner/manager/employees, were known to desire certain Beanie Babies, so we would conveniently set those aside in the back room as soon as a shipment came in.  And then when Sue or Marjorie or Eleanor or whoever would come in, "Why, yes, we have that Cinderella the Centipede Beanie Baby you've been waiting for!"  But if Nancy No-Name walked in and inquired, "No, I'm sorry, we don't have any of those."

I hated it.  This was a small town, remember, and there was most certainly an In Crowd and an Out Crowd, the Power People and the Powerless Ones; and absurdly, that differentiation showed up in the back room of a Hallmark shop over a box of Beanie Babies.

So I quit.

But even now, as I see that old name tag, a wave of nostalgia rolls over me and I remember the many pleasant times spent there.  

You know what I liked best about that name tag?  It said Davene Fisher; and for a newlywed who was still getting used to the sound of that new name and who still practiced saying it to see how it felt rolling off the tongue and who still wrote it more than necessary just for the pleasure of seeing that wonderful last name and who still forgot to answer if someone said "Mrs. Fisher" because it sounded like they were referring to her mother-in-law, that was thrilling.

TTT - Slobber and an Unbiblical View of Retaliation

In just a few days, David will officially be five and a half, a wonderful age for Tiny Talk Tuesday fodder!  :)  Like these things that escaped his mouth recently and made me smile...

********

David: "Why do you put slobber on me..." (at this point, I was thinking, "WHAT are you talking about?!") "...when my face is dirty?"

Me: "Because that's how mommies clean their babies. Think about cats. And lions. And...and...other animals. They lick their babies to clean them. So when your face is dirty and I don't have water or a wipe or anything else to clean it with, I use my saliva on my finger."

David: "It's called saliva?"

Me: "Yes."

David: "I thought it was slobber."

Me: "Well, saliva is the proper word for it. When I need to clean your face, would you prefer for me to use some of your own saliva on my finger to do it?"

David: "Yes!"

Me (in my thoughts): "Whew, problem solved. Whatever floats your boat, kid." :)  And for the record, it's not like I often clean his face this way!!

********

During a dispute (with Tobin, I'm sure...they are currently the Sandpaper Boys, rubbing each other abrasively so many times a day)...

Me: "What did Jesus tell us to do? When someone hits us on one cheek..."

David: "Turn around and hit him on the other cheek??"

Well, not exactly. In fact, not even close.


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Check out Mary at Not Before 7 for more Tiny Talk Tuesday.

The SVCC Bear

A week ago, Josiah bounded into the house after childrens' choir practice (Jeff picks him up on his way home from work), excitedly showing me a teddy bear and announcing that IT WAS HIS TURN TO KEEP THE BEAR FOR A WEEK!  Did I mention that he was a little excited?

I'm not sure how the order of which child gets it for which week is determined, but this cute teddy bear gets passed around to different members of the Prep Choir who take it home, love on it (or ignore it - who knows?), and then bring it back the following week so it can be given to someone else.

Josiah certainly didn't ignore it.  Oh no, this bear got plenty of cuddle time this week.  Isn't it delightful to see a great big boy at eight years of age snuggling with a special teddy bear?  

I think so.  ;-)  And that's just another reason why I love the SVCC!

He Grants Sleep

~ I took this photo of Tobin sleeping - October 2010

Over lunch today, I joked that I was going to post one of my favorite Bible verses today.  After all, what's not to love about a verse that tells us that God gives sleep to the ones He loves (which would be us!)?  :)

Here's a little history about my interaction with this verse.

First, Jeff told me about it.  I don't remember exactly when or on what occasion or even during which year of our marriage he brought this verse to my attention; but although the details are fuzzy, I'm sure that he must have brought it up when he saw me stressing out about something or other.  I was probably feeling SO busy but also feeling SO tired, and going back and forth about whether I should take a nap or not.  If my memory is right, he showed me this verse so that I would relax and take a nap.  :)  Although I had read the Bible all the way through several times, the verse had never jumped out at me until that day when Jeff made it jump!

Second, the beginning of Psalm 127 says, "Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain."  God has to be in charge of the project for it to succeed.  And then it goes on to say, "In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat," and I could change that to "In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for a perfectly clean house" or "for organized cupboards" or "for empty laundry baskets" or what have you.  Even tonight, I look around me and think of all the household tasks I COULD be doing, and it's easy to think that the correct word is SHOULD.  But then the psalm continues with the wonderful verse, "For he grants sleep to those he loves."  Ah, yes.  Maybe, just maybe, it's OK that I go to bed now!

Third, the psalm continues with these cherished words, "Sons are a heritage from the Lord..."  As I was reading it recently, I found it interesting that in the very psalm that talks about the blessing of the full quiver, it also talks about the futility of trying to build anything in our own strength (so true in parenting!), AND it tells us that God gives us sleep.  That, to me, is very reassuring.  :)

Cows in the House Syndrome

This afternoon as I sat down to eat a late lunch, I looked around my empty living room and kitchen and thought, "It's so quiet in here today," which immediately reminded me of the book Cows in the House by Beverly Lewis which describes a boy in Thailand who is frustrated by the noise and commotion in his house.  His wise grandfather gives him various instructions about how to help the situation, involving bringing more people and noise and commotion (and, yes, even cows) into the house; and then of course, when all the excess is removed, the boy realizes that his home, in his normal living situation, is really not very noisy at all!

When I took some leaves out of our kitchen table yesterday to return it to its normal size, I thought, "This table looks so small!"  With only nine eating around it tonight, it seemed strange.  And even with adding a few people to our home tonight for a Bible study, we didn't even come close to the activity level present a few nights ago.  Can't you just feel the energy throbbing through these snapshots?  :)

Today, as I reminisce about the memory-making days of the Woods' visit of 2010, I'm so glad that we took so many pictures!  :)

These last pictures make me laugh because I remember how the other children were excitedly crowding around sweet little Asia...

...and lovin' on her...

 ...until she spit up.

They scattered in a hurry, their loud chorus of "ewwww" and "gross" echoing as they ran.  That little girl knows how to break up a crowd.  ;-)

And tonight, without a crowd, this house feels a little bit empty.