More Laish-isms

We started this ridiculous habit of putting to Laish to bed in our bed and then when we go to bed, we simply move him to his for the night....or until he wakes up and climbs back into bed with us. Right now it's easier than going through the crap of putting him to bed in HIS room. Why that would be so difficult, I don't know but whatever. We had small group last night and Aaron stayed home with the kids bc Emma was sick. When I came home, I went to kiss the kids goodnight. Laish was still awake and immediately jumped up to hug and kiss me. He's a cuddler! "Mommy, can you lay with me?" "Sure." So I lay down for a bit. He realized this and said,"No, I mean all night."

"Can I put peanut butter on my fingers and see what I stick to?" "Uh, no." "Why, would the peanut butter get all over stuff?" "Yes." I think he was looking at Red Eye Tree Frogs at the time.

As we are sitting at a stop light...."Mommy, can we just drive fast and crash into that car in front of us?" "No." "Awww."

After watching Emma puke all over our bed and kind of feeling like he wanted to puke himself bc of the smell, he sat thinking about all this. "What if Emma puked out of her feet? Or her eyes? Wouldn't that be weird?"

And to top of my day this past Friday with 2 needy kids, Laish had me at the point of exasperation as he kicked his sister with his winter boots "3 times in my ribs" as Emma bawled to me. And pinching and punching, etc. I had exhausted all the "time outs" and "go to your rooms" that I could. I said, "Don't you hurt your sister one more time or it's a spank." So then he got on the green chair that he's used as a merry-go-round and a ship, stood on it, and started spinning. "Laish, get off the chair please and don't tip it over or it's a spank." "You mean if I do this?"....and tipped it over. In the bathroom. He gladly went as I grabbed the wooden spoon on the way in. He nicely put down the toilet seat for me and said "Here, Mommy." I'm thinking, what is wrong with this kid? "I want a spank." Whatever. Then continues to pull his pants down to further assist me. I'm thinking something's wrong. So I start spanking and spanking until he's crying so hard. "Laish, Mommy said I was going to spank you." "But I didn't know you were going to spank me that many times." So not an hour goes by until he's back in there again. "This time, Mommy, just spank 1 time."

Every Valentine's Day, Grammy has this great thing she does for the kids. She bakes Valentine cookies, decorates them, individually wraps them in plastic wrap, and puts them in a container labeled "Emma" and one labeled "Laish". I was consoling Laish the other day about who knows what, when he asked for one of "his" cookies. "The ones from Walmart?", I asked. "No, you know, the other ones in the freezer." Out of reach was my thought there. "Oh, the ones Grammy sent you. I'm sorry, buddy, there are all by now." Through tears, "But who ate them all?" Oh dear, "Well, Mommy, Daddy, you and Emma. We all shared them." And then the saddest face grew on his pudgy little face and he sobbed, "But did you ask me?" Ok, so now I felt like crap bc I'm sure I was to blame.....mostly - stupid, yummy sugar cookies. I decided none of this would've happened if Grammy would've just sent me my own share...

Pajama Day

I had a glimpse - very small - on how God must feel when we don't get exactly what we think He should've given us. Even though he may know something that we don't - that maybe He's protecting us or protecting somebody else. He must ache to disappoint us and see us so upset.
My daughter had everything laid out last night for Pajama Day the next day. She was going to wear her new pajamas that Grammy had boughten her this past Christmas. The pants were warm with candy canes all over them. They were laid out on the davenport arm where we usually lay her clothes for the next day. I went to bed early and according to Aaron, she would not fall asleep. She was soooooooooooo excited. We had already sent in the 35 cents needed for milk and cookies the day before. The 1st graders already had pajama day and now it was finally the Kindergartner's turn. Oh the sheer joy and thrill of watching your child be happy. Nothing gets better than that!
I thought it rather odd that she came to my bedside this morning at 5am -her tummy hurt. I was in a good slumber and so somewhat annoyed, I took her back into her bed, laid next to her and mumbled some half-hearted prayer for the Lord to take away her pain. That's when the vomit began.
Now, apparently some kids (or only my sis in law, Beck) get so excited and nervous for birthday parties and what not, that they go and puke before and during their parties. I'm guessing that's what Aaron was thinking about - how we always poke fun of Beck for puking at her parties - when he suggested maybe Emma was anxious about Pajama Day. I only wish it had been nerves. Through all the vomiting, she kept reminding me that she needed to get ready for school. Emma loves school. For fun she'll write her numbers backwards by ten down each column. Or pretend she's writing in cursive. Her favorite game (besides memory) is for me to write words or sentences then she writes them next to mine. I just did 6 stinkin' pages for her the night before. I like to refer to them as her homework because I think it makes her happy to pretend to sigh as if this is so much to ask of her, pull up her chair and sit there for 2 hours and write. (Then we "grade" them. It just doesn't get any better than this, parents). I kept telling her to just rest. About 7:40 she looked at the clock and realized what time it was. Had she missed the bus? What now? I took a huge breath and softly explained that she couldn't go to school. That's when the wailing began. Her disappointment was too much to bare. How do I explain that she can't go to school on Pajama Day? Nothing made sense to her at this point. She cried herself into a hysteria. My mind was seriously considering how I could take her into school and just sit there with her for the movie that was going to be played for Story Time. I just wanted to make it happen for her and I couldn't.
Aaron tried to reason with her and explain that she would get other children sick. (Which is probably how she got sick in the first place, you unknowingly parent out there).
So as usual I've been thinking all day on the similarities of the relationship between parent/child to God and His children. How must He feel on days when I am so mad at him for allowing or not allowing something to happen concerning me? It's so hard to see past that disappointment. To see that there is actually a better way. I may not understand it but to fully trust Him? I must say I am sure I haven't with every test that comes my way...
Some lessons are easier learned than others. Missing Pajama Day for a 6 year old is one of the hard ones.