Heaven is Like A 4 Year Old's World

This is life from my 4yo's perspective:

• Dancing makes everything better. Or perfect. Yea, dancing makes everything perfect.

• Making friends is easy. Everyone is a best friend in waiting!

• Love is it. "I love love!" 

When I get so tired I want to quit everything, I look at her and remember it doesn't have to be so difficult. We are already so blessed, why not just enjoy the moment. This one, right here. 

Sometimes I think abut heaven and can't wait to get there. This life is hard. As soon as one problem gets fixed, another crops up. Heaven will be so glorious. Just dancing, worshipping our Father, experiencing His love like never before. Sharing it with friends no longer bogged down by the pressure of comparisons, focused only on Him. 

Then I remember, He has us here now for a purpose. And He gave me a little girl to remind me He's given me a little piece of heaven right now.

Thank you Father!

It must be a full moon...

All I can say is W-O-W. Tonight was the toughest night we have had in a looong time!! My kids were like possessed! IS there a full moon tonight? Um, no. OK, so maybe aliens abducted them and replaced them with temporary look-alikes? Hopefully my real kids will be back tomorrow. Yikes.

So, you wanna know what happened? Here we go...

It started this morning, when JP decided he didn't like the class snack I packed. (It is his week to bring snack to preschool.) He decided instead of animal crackers, he wanted to bring fruit cups. However, I explained to him that there were not enough fruit cups to take for the whole class. "Yes there are!" he yelled at me!  (Insert speech about how we DO NOT yell at mommy!) Then I explained "No, we need 12 to have enough for the whole class, and we only have 4."   "We have 12!!" He yelled again, holding up a pack of.. yep, 4!! WhAt wAs hE ThInKinG? Ahhh!  Yeah, that conversation went nowhere!

Then, after school, while I was feeding the baby, JP and PB proceeded to throw all the Legos and puzzle pieces out the back porch window!! WHY!?

THEN! While he was supposed to be outside picking up all those pieces, he proceeds to TEAR OFF THE LATTICE SURROUNDING THE BACK PORCH!! All in a matter of minutes, while I changed the baby's diaper.

The entire time he was screaming about me being "mean" for making him clean it up and how it was so "not fair!"

Who is this child? He can't be my JP, because my JP knows better than that! We have talked endlessly about making good choices and how bad choices have bad consequences, yet he STILL chose to act this way? I don't get it.

Needless to say, he got some consequences. I had planned for us to go out for mexican tonight, since we had a coupon for buy-one-get-one-free for tonight. I was all excited to take the kids out, since they love that cheese dip (and that I wouldn't have to cook!) However, after the day's antics, we had to cancel that. (Speaking of unfair, my kids make bad choices and I get punished?! Oh well. ) He also had to miss soccer practice to instead spend that time cleaning up his mess, and then he had to go to bed without his story time. I hated to take that away, and I still feel guilty about it. BUT, since losing soccer practice, dinner out and dessert didn't fix his attitude, what was left?

Then, PB cried herself to sleep. I hate that, too. But she was mad that we made her clean up, and that she didn't get dessert. After explaining her choices caused the loss of her dessert privilege, she proceeded to call me "mean mommy." That's not fun to hear. Especially twice in one night. :(

Meanwhile, HC is begging to play Donkey Kong, and I explain to him I cannot handle one more battle tonight. He says it won't be a battle and he will turn it off as soon as we tell him to. So, Daddy lets him play. When bed time rolls around and we ask him to turn it off and put his PJs on, he starts crying!!!

Yeah, I had to go for a drive.. (had to pick up dinner anyway, since I hadn't planned to cook!) ... a drive with the windows down and my rockin' praise music by Thief on the Right blaring. The loud music and wind in my face helped calm me down significantly. Then the memories came rushing in about why I love these darn kids so much. Ahh, yes. That's right. I totally love them.


Ugh. Here's to praying tomorrow is better.



PS: Have you had a day/night like this lately? How did you handle it? Was the day after better? 

Making Time for Cinderella

Sunday night I did a really dumb thing. I almost missed it.

Luckily, before the moment was gone, a song came to mind reminding me not to miss it. It is another beautiful momentous song by Steven Curtis Chapman  called simply "Cinderella":

       "She spins and she sways
        To whatever song plays
        Without a care in the world
        And I'm sitting here wearing
        The weight of the world on my shoulders

        It's been a long day
        And there's still work to do
        She's pulling at me
        Saying "Dad, I need you

        There's a ball at the castle
        And I've been invited
        And I need to practice my dancing
        Oh, please, Daddy, please?"

"Ooooh I'll Dance with Cinderella..."

        So I will dance with Cinderella
        While she is here in my arms
        'Cause I know something the prince never knew
        Oooooh, I will dance with Cinderella
        I don't wanna miss even one song
        'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight
        And she'll be gone..."


When this song first came out, I cried and cried each time I heard it playing, because this one sentence is ME: "It's been a long day / And there's still work to do / She's pulling at me / Saying "(Mom), I need you".   I hear myself replying "when I finish my work" to waaay too many requests from my kids. After this song came out, I made a vow to never do it again.


But Sunday night I almost did.  You see, I was busy working on end-of-month. At the end of each month, I have this huge Excel spreadsheet of stuff I have to bill for work so they can close the books out for the new month. Sunday night, I was frantically trying to get it finished before Monday morning (I was already behind! It should have been done by the 1st!) Usually at end-of-month, Chris will take care of putting the kids in bed and cleaning up after dinner so I can start working earlier than usual. But this particular night, Princess Ballerina decided she had to have me sing her bedtime songs. Chris and I take turns putting the boys and Princess to bed anyway so we can each share that special time with them throughout the week. So, typically at end-of-month, the kids are OK with Daddy putting them to bed and singing them their bedtime songs. For whatever reason, this night was different for her.

First, she asked nicely. I replied with my usual "tomorrow night I can baby girl, when I am finished with my work." So she begged "Pweeeeeeeease!" And I said "No sweetie, Mommy has work to finish." But then she got pitiful. "Mommy, I need you to sing me my songs!" And I realized I was forsaking a special moment with my girl for a measly extra few minutes of work. 5 minutes would really be all I had to sacrifice, two songs' worth.  Thankfully, God hit my upside the head and reminded me of Cinderella, and of the fact that two songs would barely be 5 minutes worth of missed work time. I realized I could totally give that up for my princess because she wanted MOMMY to sing her a song!

So I did. PB has two songs she always requests at bedtime lately: "On My Knees" by Jaci Velasquez and "Find your Wings" by Mark Harris. She calls them collectively "My knees and my wings Mommy!" I hope I never forget these moments. I hope I never miss one again.

Though I know I will.

It's comforting that even Steven Curtis Chapman almost missed a moment too!! He explains it here in the story behind the song. He wrote this song as a reminder of that almost-missed moment. I am glad he did. It continues to help me remember to focus on those moments and not let them go by. Our kids grow up too quickly as it is. It's my prayer that I can remember not to miss anymore of those precious moments.

Thanks for reading. Remember not to miss those moments with your loved ones.

Blessings,
Dianne


PS: Have you realized when you almost missed a moment but something (or Someone) slowed you down and helped you to see it before it was too late? Tell me about it! Let's help each other focus on moments & not let them slip by!!


What can we do to help us remember to slow down?? I really need help with this!!

A Birthday Reminder

Here I am feeling all sorry for myself and bored out of my mind, when it hits me how incredibly blessed  I am.

Thank you, Lord, for the smack upside the head.

I have been on complete bed rest, albeit at home, for the past 6 weeks. At first it sounded good, like the idea of resting up all I could before bringing baby home would be phenomenal. However, it has been less than phenomenal. It has been downright hard, miserable even. I usually hate complaining, but I am all out of patience. I have been vomiting, contracting, cramping and sore for 6 weeks and I feel like I can't take anymore. I have lost so much weight that I now only weigh 2 pounds more than my pre-pregnancy weight, and though that sounds great, it terrifies me. How can a growing baby survive when his mother is losing weight?!  I so desperately want him to be healthy, but I am now desperate to have him out of me! Doesn't that sound awful?! I feel like a terrible mother for even thinking it. I usually relish each pregnancy, loving the miracle going on inside me and the feeling of baby kicking healthy and strong. So why is it so different this time? Will I bond with this baby? Will I feel differently towards him, love him any less?

Argh, those are dumb, dumb questions, I know. But I just had to vent. My Bible Study leader says (of the importance of having safe, Godly relationships to share life with vs trying to "be strong" and do it alone) that "when we are alone with our thoughts, we believe everything we think." So, since all I've had is time alone, by myself, and these thoughts, crazy as they may be, are the ones swirling around in my head, strange as it sounds - I am starting to believe them! Therefore, I thought it was time I shared them, vented them out loud in effort to hopefully stop them from seeming so real.

LOL, it worked, because now that I see them typed out in front of me they seem pretty ridiculous!

To occupy my time, I have also been reading blogs. Tons of blogs. There is this one I just finished reading, though, that broke my heart. It is the blog of a young mom who delivered her baby girl after going into preterm labor at 25 weeks! Her baby girl is still in the NICU, and her due date was February 20. So this week, her baby girl is supposed to be a newborn but she is 3 months old and struggling to survive. I cried as I caught up on her blog. (Don't always get to read; hard to lay flat and read from a laptop on your tummy). I have never met her, but she is the sister-in-law of one of my very best friends, so I have known about her situation since her pre-term labor began, and have been praying for her, her husband and daughter every day since. She writes with such raw emotion, though that you can't help but feel her pain. Then, realizing that my daughter's birthday was yesterday, February 22, while reading about this baby's plight brought me back to my own daughter's situation three years ago exactly. I remembered how terrified I felt when I went in for a regular appointment at 34 weeks and was told "we have to take her out, NOW!" then they whisked me to the hospital for an emergency C-Section. Her amniotic fluid had dried up, and she might not make it they told me. My baby girl. My precious princess. Might. Die. I couldn't bear the thought, all I could do was pray and beg God to have mercy on my daughter and please, just LET HER LIVE. Now, this precious mom is in the same situation. Everyday brings a twist and turn, it's a roller coaster ride of uncertainty. Please pray for her and her baby girl, Scarlette. I pray that three years from now, she looks back at how far they've come and sees the 3 year old beautiful dancing girl before her and treasures the miracle played out in front of her. It can happen. It will happen. We only had a week of terror with our Princess, but it was the longest week of my life. Today, when I look at her I can hardly believe I almost forgot how we fought for her, and prayed for her. She is so healthy and whole. A Bright, beautiful, dancing, chatty healthy little girl. Thank you Father, for saving her. I beg you, Father, please do the same for baby Scarlette. 


Suddenly, I realized how very blessed I am that my preterm labor WAS stopped and we are now at a blessed 35 weeks. This baby will be fine. I will be fine. God is in control and I CAN Trust Him.

 
Happy 3rd Birthday, Princess! 


Thank you, Father for this Birthday Reminder.

Our Little Miracle

After ups and downs with this pregnancy, it is finally and happily over. Though our due date wasn't until April 2, 2008, our Princess just couldn't wait, and made her debut instead on February 22. And she is our little miracle.  Thank you to everyone who has been praying for her and for us all during this scary time.

This is going to be a looong post, but for those of you who wanted to know the whole story,  here it is:

You see, I went in for what I hoped was going to be a normal 34 week appointment. Yes, we had been battling pre-term labor, but I had been on medications for it and so far, had not dilated at all, so we were doing good. Or so I thought.

At 30 weeks I got a really bad stomach bug and had to go to the hospital for IV's to stop throwing up. Then, the contractions started again, and it took them 2 shots of terbutaline to stop them so they kept me overnight. Fun. Then, a week later, the contractions started yet again so back to the hospital we go, and this time they sent me home with a pill version of terbutaline. So at my 32 week appointment, my doctor asked me how I'd been feeling, and I told her fine. Much better, just a few contractions here and there but otherwise fine. Apparently that was not a good answer because immediately she sent me to the sonogram room, just to "check on the baby." There we found baby was fine, but my amniotic fluids were low, apparently this can be a side effect of the preterm meds I have been on, or it could be a defective placenta, she said. She ordered me to drink at least a gallon of water every day and she would recheck me in two days. Two days later the fluids looked like they were back up, so she was pleased. Looks like it was the terbutaline dehydrating me, so they take me off the meds and opt for the lesser of two evils: at this point, preterm labor is safer than a dry amniotic sac. Cool, I can handle that. I'll chug water like a mad woman. Still she wanted to recheck me the next Monday. We go in to that appointment and the fluids are down again, not too bad, but not up where they should be. I get the "you;re not drinking enough water" lecture and for good measure, a steroid shot to help mature baby's lungs. She'll recheck me the next week- REST, WATER, GET UP ONLY TO PEE!!!! She said.

So here we go for the 34 week appointment, with my bladder full to exploding and my confidence up that I have done my very best mommy-job at resting, drinking water and getting up only to pee (with the wonderful help of my hubby, and phenomenal family and friends). I am ready to hear "All is well, see you next week" when suddenly, she says... "Go the the hospital, we need to take this baby out RIGHT NOW."

WHAT?!

Please explain!, I begged her. "You're baby's fluids are gone and your contractions are back. If you go into full blown labor the contractions will kill her because she has NO FLUIDS protecting her. We have to get her out NOW."  So, apparently, it was a bad placenta, not the terbutaline, and now an emergency C-Section was in order. I was contracting, too, so the baby might not make it. What? My long awaited for, precious baby girl? Might. Die? If she did make it, she would likely need to go to the NICU and be hooked up to machines, she warned me. I went into full-fledged panic mode. All I could do was pray. 

My father-in-law (PawPaw) had taken me to the doctor as my hubby was at work, ironically at a baby shower for our little girl that the other teachers had surprised him with.  PawPaw calls Chris and tells him the news as he drives me to the hospital. The entire time he reminds me God is in control, just pray and trust God.  I want to scream but I know that will do no good, so instead I pray. (How else would you get through something like this without God? I cannot imagine.) 

As they prep me, I prayed.

As I waited for an operating table, I prayed.

My husband arrived. We prayed.

Finally they wheel me in and start the meds. I prayed. 

As they start to cut, I panic. I start crying and my husband starts praying for me.

Suddenly, I hear the words to a song I haven't heard in a long, long time. From the speakers? No, they are playing some elevator music. No, this was coming from INSIDE ME:

"You are my strength when I am weak,

You are the treasure that I seek,

You are my all in all."

I started to bawl just as this unexplainable but definitive peace washed over me. God was there. In that operating room, with me. He was with my baby girl. He was with the doctors taking her out too early. He was being my strength when I was being weak.

When I am dry you fill my cup

You are my all in all."

I had fallen down, in a pit of fear and darkness. He was picking me up. I was dry, and they had to take my baby out too early. But He would fill my cup.  He was all I needed, and in that moment, I knew I would be OK. I felt like she would too, hoped maybe. But I knew  I would be ok. I relaxed and let the doctors do their thing, when I hear the MOST WONDERFUL SOUND IN THE WORLD...

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Our baby was out and she was ALIVE!!!!! They whisked her away to check on her but I could HEAR her! She was alive!!! I started crying and thanking God, we made it over the first hurdle. They sewed me up and sent me to recovery.

Now the waiting began.  Where was my baby? 

They had taken her to check her vitals and breathing, etc. It seemed to take forever! Finally they brought her to us! There she was, our perfect, beautiful baby girl. All 5 lbs 6 ounces of her. 17 and 1/2 inches long. Sweet baby girl, our little Princess Ballerina. No breathing tubes, no machines, no IV's. Our little miracle.

The next week was just a little mini-roller coaster compared to the day we had on her birthday. She would lose weight, not eat, desaturate oxygen levels, etc. and we'd have to stay "one more day". Then she became jaundiced and had to lay in the billi table for 24 hours. (She looked like a glow-worm, we thought!) But after a week and a half, she had regained enough weight, mastered eating and gotten her color back enough to be sent home! (Granted, she was sent home with in-home nurse care, but still, we got to go home!)  I know of so many couples whose babies' stories do not end like this. Some end tragically. Others, are still fighting, like a couple in our church whose twin boys were born at 28 weeks. (Please pray for Noah and Matthew!) So though it was terrifying, I am grateful to be through it. 

Thank you Lord, for our baby girl. Thank you for providing your peace through the fear. Thank you for Our Little Miracle.