Origin

My oldest daughter, 9 year old Savannah, asked me today where babies come from. Now this question has come up off and on over time, but I've always been able to give it brief answers that passify the children until such a date as I see fit to divulge all the details. But this time, Savannah was a little too old and just a little bit too knowledgeable for me to blow it off with a response like "from Mom's and Dad's" or "from Mommy's tummy" or the best one yet, "from God." I have thought about what I would say when I got to this point, but on this occasion I happened to be driving from gymnastics to Walmart, I had to try not to wreck the car while answering her questions. I was trying to wade into the answer by seeing what she already knew, so I asked, "What do you mean?" I was extremely relieved when she answered with this...

"Well... in some countries like China you can only have one baby. If you have more than one, do you have to kill it? Some people can't have babies, right? So if you have extra's, can you just give them to someone else? You never gave away any extras or got any from somewhere else did you, Mom?"

As you can imagine, I was elated that the question was more geographic than anatomic. My relief was short lived, however. I told her that of course I had not given away any of mine and had not gotten any from anywhere else. I was lucky to be able to have my own children and was not having any more. The conversation went down hill from there. It went something like this...

Savannah: God said you're done, right Mom?
Mom: Yes, honey. Plus I can't have any more.
S: Cause you had that surgery like dogs have, right?
M: Something like that.
S: So do they take away the place where the baby lives or that little tube it gets out from? Cause I saw a picture of that in a book once and it looks gross. I don't get it.
M: They take away your uterus, honey. The place where the baby lives. But none of my babies came that way - they were all cut out of my belly. Just like Nana's babies and Aunt Bridget's babies.
S: So how do the babies get there if girls aren't married? Like that girl at your school? How did she get pregnant?
M: By doing things with boys that she wasn't supposed to do if she wasn't married. That's why God says not to do that stuff if you're not married. It's hard to take care of a baby without a husband.
S: Oh. I'm glad you're my mom.
M: Me too, honey.

A word to the wise - plan ahead for this one. I'm POSITIVE this discussion is not over!

Altitudes

All the kids were at my sister's last week for their spring break. All except for Landon, the two year old. The week went SOOOOO nice. (See my sister's blog for how BAD her weekend was with my kids). Since the older ones were gone, I got to spend a lot more one-on-one time with Landon. We played on the swing set, sat in the yard and played ball, watched "Little Einstein's", and went out to eat with Clark. Having only one child that will eat off of your plate is much cheaper than having 4 who insist they need a kids meal of their own that they will eventually not eat. It will linger in the little black take-away tray in the refrigerator until everything smells like old chicken and french fries, and then a week later get discovered and thrown away. It's easier to just throw away my $15 the first time.

One of the days that Landon and I were at home without Daddy, we played out in the front yard and sat in the grass looking at things around us. Landon pointed out trees, a school bus, trackers (tractors), and "boats". Over and over again, he would say "I see boats." Well I in my elderly state as compared to Landon, did not see any boats floating down my street. I looked and looked and he just kept repeating himself. He finally pointed to the "boats" he saw - which were actually birds walking in the grass. He was quite enthralled by the birds and when I realized what he was talking about and corrected him, he said "Yeah, boats. Boats walking?" I said, "What? Yes, the birds are walking." He again said "Boats walking?" I decided he was waiting for me to elaborate and explained that "Yes, the birds are walking - they are probably looking for bugs or something in the grass." Landon looked at the birds, looked back at me, then again stared at the birds. You could see the wheels turning in his little head thinking birds just should not be on the ground. After a long pause, he ran over towards the birds and threw his arms in the air and said to the birds, "Gee-up-in-da-sky!" I laughed and laughed, realizing that Landon just felt that birds should not be on the ground, they should be flying. Who knew?

Area and Experience

For those of you who have never been to Macon, Georgia, Cherry Blossom time here is the pinkest week all year. It can also be sometimes strange. I'll give you some examples...

However, it can also be one of the most beautiful times of the year.



































We had the Cherry Blossom parade, which will be my last event with my Dance and Flag Teams. It was unseasonably freezing this day, by the way. Here's a picture.




























Now at the practice the day before, I was so sad that it was our last event. I even told the band director that I would probably cry at the parade. Low and behold, the girls gave me a run for my money and by the time we left the parade, I was so mad at them that I was way past being sorry I was leaving. After they pulled stunts like running to Walmart right when it was time to get on the bus, not having their long sleeves, whining about not having enough time to "battle" the other bands, hiding in the Music Hall of Fame, and then blaming all of their problems on their "mean coach", I was completely over it when it was time to go home. And here I thought I would miss them...

But.... a day later, I already missed them. I have become so attached to these girls. They are like my children away from home. They come to me for EVERYTHING. Boy problems, math tutoring, problems at home, passes to class, selling stuff.... My room is the locker room for these girls, and the hang out before school and between classes. I am blessed to have had them in my life. I truly love them and will miss them.

Two negatives make one positive

I have so much going on with work right now. I'm taking a class to increase my math certification, judging cheerleading tryouts, working on the dance team and marching band show for next year, fund raisers, class planning, and, oh yeah, teaching! All of this means that Clark is spending most of the time with the kids and I get home with only an hour and a half to finish dinner, homework, and bed time. Every day I think, "I've just got to get through the end of the week (month, year...)."

Well tonight was cheerleading tryouts and my class, and Clark was home taking care of the kids with what turned out to be an upper respiratory infection. Two negatives. But what came out of all that turned out to be positive. The kids and I went outside to get the mail and bring up the trash can from the street, and ended up spending time playing in the yard to stay out of Clark's way. We played kick ball, frisby, ring-around-the-rosie, tumbled, and soljer-boy'ed until it got too dark to see. We came inside and did the bedtime routine and got everyone in bed. Once I had time to sit down and think, I realized that it has been a long time since I spent any time with the kids doing something completely unproductive, just for the fun of it. They had such a good time and for just a second I felt like a mom Supernanny wouldn't fuss at if she dropped in for a visit. I need more moments that remind me why I'm a mom - moments that turn two negatives into a positive.

Even numbers

I'm not sure exactly what my goal is in starting this blog page. Maybe it's because I talk too much and this gives me someone to talk to. Or maybe it's because there is so much going on in my life, that this is my way of putting some sort of organization to it. Whatever the reason, I'll do my best to continue it, and possibly come to some solution before the end of the problem.

I suppose one of the flaws in my character is that of even numbers. I like balanced equations - those with a solution. "No Solution" is not an answer in my life's problems. I suppose this is one of the reasons I am so suitable to be a math teacher. However, even numbers can become a problem of sorts when you already have two children and find out you are having three. Three is not an even number. Hence, the number four. Four children. Who's idea was that again? Don't get me wrong - I love my children. I believe God gave me children because he thought I could do something useful with them. I still haven't figured out why he gave me the most difficult four or what it is I was supposed to do that is useful, but like it or not, four it is and here they are.

Savannah is the oldest. She is my mini-me in many ways. What she is lacking, Shelby made up. I think God chose all of my most difficult characteristics and then magnified them into the form of my two daughters. Remember when your mother said "payback is hell?" She was right. They are the two smartest girls in middle Georgia, but they can act pretty darn dumb. Savannah, the drama queen, can blow any incident out of proportion in record time, and then suck it for all it's worth until you are worn completely to defeat. Shelby, the princess of misbehavior, can turn a simple conversation into a screaming match faster than you can cover your ears, beat her behind, or otherwise remove yourself from the situation. Car rides are incessant arguments, homework is torture, and bedtime is a pitty party. The two girls (lets call them S^2) are a very heavy side of a very unbalanced equation.

The two boys are their own kind of trouble. They are boys - they like to color on walls, play in the mud, dump out all the toys, throw things in the house, sword fight, and drive cars down the stairs. Everything girls just don't do. They are so fascinating to sit back and watch. It's been long enough since the girls were 2 and 4, that I don't remember the wonders of naive discoveries. John says things like "Mom, when are we going to see Reagan's baby? You know, the new one?" And makes observations you often wish he wouldn't, such as "Mom - you don't need to look nice today, you need to look like you always do." Thanks, son. Landon's speech is multiplying exponentially. One day he will say "Where passie go?" The next day it is "Mom, my passie's upstairs in my room. Go get it." Who knew it could literally change so fast? I still call Landon "the baby" and probably still will when he's 21.

Despite my complaints, having four kids also has it's joys, and it's benefits. It's more people to help clean the church on Saturday mornings and more to delegate chores to on chore days. It's more to do yard work, and more to bring in groceries from the car. Everyone in the family has someone to walk around the block with, someone to push the merry-go-round at the park while you ride, someone to balance the teeter-totter, someone to call out your spelling words on Thursday, someone to color with or do a puzzle with, someone to push the swing, someone to unload the dishwasher before you load, someone to feed the dogs while you get the water, someone to straighten the other side of the covers when you make the bed, someone to tell stories to in the dark after everyone else is asleep, someone to watch for the bus while you put on your shoes, someone to hold your hand when you cross the street, someone to help buckle your seatbelt, someone to read you a story, someone to change the channels on the TV, someone to set the table while you cook, someone to brush your hair, someone to play cards with, someone to ride the rides with at the amusement parks, someone to lighten your load, and someone to hug.

With as many terms as there are in my life's equation, somewhere in there, I suppose it all balances out.