La Escuela es Terminado

Yesterday was Emma Jae's last day of school. Me, Aaron and her Grandpa Shetler all attended the big event. They 4 Kindergarten classes all sang 2 songs: This Little Light of Mine and Big, Big Dreams. Then we went to her classroom to watch her teacher hand out diplomas. Then we made sure to get all the phone numbers we needed for the summer so she can have play dates with her closest friends. Someone asked me if I cried. I didn't. Should I have? Her teacher pulled us aside and said, "Emma.....well, she's perfect." Aaron wanted her to record that on video tape. =) I am blessed to have such a "good" child! She excels in school - goes above and beyond. She is learning Spanish on the Rosetta Stone DVD's our buddy Zac gave us years ago since he works there as a graphic designer. In her spare time, she likes to write and color. She found a real mailbox in our basement that Aaron and I never used, brought it upstairs to her desk where it sits waiting for mail from me. It's a fun game she began. If the flag is up then either her or I have mail. She loves to get mail!! And read read read. She told me last night she's bored at school. Sigh. Hopefully 1st grade will bring some new challenges because I certainly am NOT homeschooling. Here's some pictures of Emma and friends..

Emma and Mrs. Pfenning

Emma and her best friend Brooklynn (and her twin sister Chloe not pictured)Litzy, Emma and Camila

(Emma has been to Camila's house for her birthday party and to Litzy's for her birthday party and again for a play date. They played hide and seek with Litzy's brother Marvin who is 3 years old while Litzy's older sister Mitzy babysat for them)

Emma and Joseph (isn't he so cute?)

Emma and her friend & neighbor Fernanda

Emma can never take a serious picture. Remind you of anyone??? (Aaron......)What a punk

Was 'sup?

Okay so I'm realizing how hard it is to actually keep a blog with only internet at work. Sometimes I get so jealous of the fancy blogs and fun things people can spend time online doing. Then I realize I don't really need another addiction. The blog was to keep far away family up-to-date with things, NOT see how I rank in the blog world. (Which is why Aaron and I are spending our date night at my office on the internet). So....with that in mind, here's the latest happenings in Detwiler-ville, Goshen style.

Winter is over. (I think. Today I turned the heat on.) Ice is gone. Kids enjoyed the ice-sculpting this winter downtown. You will see here a beautiful sculpting of the maple leaf that so wonderfully represents our city. And some other stuff.

Neighbors. What would our kids do without neighbors? We are surrounded. Childless, we hated it. Now, we love it.

Laish accidentally got whacked in the top of his head with an aluminum bat by a neighbor kid. (Not his fault). But that scared the crap out of me. There are still blood drips on our patio to remind me of that moment of chaos and horror as I grabbed the first thing I could find - a kitchen towel. Put that on Laish's screaming head and helpless watched Emma and the other kids watch me panicking. Emma always cries and freaks out like me and I felt so helpless that I couldn't comfort her. Laish is a rock. He probably just cried because everyone was freaking out that blood was coming out of his head and rolling down his face. He probably didn't even feel any pain, to be honest. Don't ask him to look at his head. Just like you don't sing Happy Birthday to him or ask him to wear pants. He's got some issues. Jakin, the boy who hit him, went home crying because he felt so bad. I told that to Laish and Laish later told me to "go tell Jaking that I'm okay and that I forgive him." The newest thing is to climb the roof of the play house that Pop Pop built. I hate it but geez, what are you gonna do? Especially when Aaron does it with them?

I'm getting my baby fix watching Carly every Tuesday. Some friends we met through Aaron's work. She is the sweetest thing in the world and besides some mishaps where Laish likes to think he can pick her up, all is well.

Emma, our love, is so awesome. I can't say enough about her. She goes to her bed when we say. Sleeps all night in there. Wakes up great for school. LOVES school. Reads like a champ. She's kind of bored reading chapter books already. Obeys us for the most part. I'm learning to enjoy her personality so much more. She loves to tease and joke with us. Always smiling (or bossing Laish). She wrote me a Mother's Day card at school about how she loves my "brownyes and monster cookies". She loves her cousins and her "boyfriend"/neighbor Damon. (sigh). Lord, help us.......

Why are you Good, Friday?

I left my family at home this Good Friday. Some sleeping. Some awake. It's holiday so no school and most people don't work. We have no internet at home so I am sitting here at work before the one therapist comes in today, and I have a few moments to prcoess my thoughts. Friday's I get to drive the BMW to work since Aaron doesn't go in until noon and so I always feel extra special Friday mornings speeding around, feeling like I'm on the top of my game. I drove to the local Martin's Supermarket which I never do. Grabbed muffins for breakfast and a Latte at the Starbucks inside. The lady was so sweet and chipper and even said I could ring up my muffins at the Starbucks counter. Man, was today starting off good indeed.

Yet I sit here in my chair with a heavy heart this morning. Why? It's Good Friday, the day Jesus was carried to the cross and hammered to it as if he wasn't a human being. How is this a good day remembering that? I asked my kids all this week about Easter. What does Easter mean to them? After the initial "it's like Christmas" or "Is the Easter Bunny real" - I tried not to get pissed off that I hadn't taught them better. Walmart's Easter is candy, eggs, bunnies, gifts, more candy. Why should I expect them to think any different?. I do. I laid in bed with them one night explaining the true Easter story. Their little minds were actually listening so intently - except for the random being whacked by Laish's lizard he was holding on to. By the time I was done, and let me tell you, I did a freakin' fab job telling that story - Emma was clinging to me with her head buried and crying. What a tender heart she has. I found her asleep in her bed last night with her new Bible that her Grammy and Pop Pop just sent her from PA. I had this rawness in my chest that made me just lay there kissing her, annoying her slumber with my tears dripping down her cheeks. My only prayer is they know and love You, Jesus. May Your will be done.

I was listening to a speaker one time up in Detroit, Michigan at a Soaking Prayer Conference with my mom, and she said, "I find such comfort in the gruesomeness of the cross." Her words stuck with me for these many years. Why is that comforting? That He suffered so greatly? I am a 34 year old who has suffered most my life with daily chronic pain. Just that word "pain" brings tears to my eyes. We sing a song in church that says "there will be a day with no more pain..". Every time we sing that, I hold back tears and savor the moment of wondering what life might be like without daily pain. For this reason, His pain on this day is so hard to comprehend. It means so much to me that He felt physical pain for me. Pain I will never begin to know. The loneliness it brings - that no one else can know what you must be feeling. The thoughts of just wanting to die so you don't have to feel anymore. Then my mind comes back to my children and Aaron. I would suffer this pain every day until I die just to have my children live a life God fully intended. Is this possibly a bit of what He must've felt? Did His love for us, for me, just overwhelm His pain? I may never know what He went through so many years ago but I thank Him. I thank, you Jesus, for the cross. Thank You for the cross. I want to just lay at it now, all bloodstained and gruesome, and just cling to it, begging You to give me some hope for this shattered world.

Sometimes I try to think of Easter as Spring and happiness because He rose again and we should celebrate this and yadda yadda yadda. This year, I'm ok with sitting in His presence at the tomb. Pouring ointment on His body and lovingly washing Him with my hair (or something else since I have little hair at this point). I want to touch His wounds and see the blood on my hands. I want to weep and just weep and weep in His bloodstained clothes. I want to be tired and hopeless next to Him, curled up so tight against His lifeless body that no one could tear me away.

"For it is by grace you have been saved. It is a gift." Ephesians 2:8&9

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TxFSIFRKtOs

Happy Birthday To Me

March 12, 1976 and then March 12, 1978 - 2 years later....
I wish I could remember when I turned 2. When my dad or sibling would've told me that I had a new baby sister....on MY birthday. I try to think how my kids at 2 would've handled it. How I would've handled it as their mother, stuck in the hospital on my sweet 2 year old's birthday. My memories of having the same birthday as my sister Roberta were never really good memories. I remember receiving a doll and being excited about it until I noticed Berta had the SAME gift - a doll. For some reason I had in my mind that being 2 year's older than her granted me the right to have gifts that were 2 years above her status. So for the rest of my childhood birthday's, I remember having to celebrate with younger sister Berta. I think mom tried to make it special at times, as I see pictures of 2 birthday cakes or seperate parties. Now that we are 34 and 32, things have changed. I love to see the surprise on people's faces when we tell them we were born on the same day. How is that possible? It's kind of like having a twin and yet cooler. So thanks, mom, for timing that perfectly. And thanks, Berta, for doing your part too.

Part II on this birthday to me, was a surprise get-a-way to a B&B in Holland, MI near Lake Michigan. My husband did more planning that weekend than I think he did for our whole wedding. What fun. We've never been to a B&B. They totally pampered us with bath robes, fire place, jacuzzi tub, breakfast in our room with the great view, and speakers coming out of the ceilings. We ate at a fantastic restaurant called Piper's. Just the best food ever - no interruptions except for a lady that felt she should order anything she wanted whether it was on the menu or not. It is fun to pretend for a weekend that you're rich, super young again or just pay tons of money to sleep all day in someone else's home. Who thought of this whole Bed & Breakfast idea anyway? Then we raced home to take Laish to a taekwondo tournament and watch our niece and nephew, and alas, the rest was over. It does still stay fresh in my memory. Thank you, Aaron. From arranging babysitting to having fresh flowers ready for me in our B&B room. I am a better wife and mom when rested....(hint....hint)

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.

All is Calm. All is Bright.

Uncle Chris and kids playing the DS. They had no idea what they were doing but still fun!

Story time with Aunt Beck

Nakey Isis and Queen Emma

Like brother Like sister.

Mystical Memory Game that Grammy bought Emma. She just asked yesterday for me to get her up for school early so she can play Memory.

Aunt Beck, ugly face day

Pop Pop reading to his beloved grandkids.

Fondue night - always a favorite. Laish smeared with chocolate.

Fun sliding down stairs with Aunt Beck.

Aunt June and my sweet niece Isis

We miss you all and love you immensely!