Mermaids, Unicorns, and Fairies

When you have two little girls, your life revolves around fairy tales. At least ours does. We are always watching movies about princes and princesses. Certain Disney movies reign supreme in our house. Hercules, the Lion King, the Little Mermaid, Snow White...we watch them over and over and over again. We play mermaids in the bathtub. Amelia's favorite books right now are still the fairy books. We just finished the pet fairy series, and she can't wait to start the next set. She loves to draw and make books and write stories and they're all about My Little Pony, or fairies. Her story starters in her first grade class are all about fairies. One time, the teacher accidentally put another student's story in her folder. This story was about the Seahawks and football and I was so excited that she was writing a story about football. I stuck in on the fridge with a magnet, displaying it proudly. Amelia walked through and said, "Um, mommy...why do you have Ryan's football story stuck to the fridge?" "Oh...Ryan's story? Why do you have Ryan's story?" "I don't know...I guess it was a mistake. Why is it on the fridge?" "Oh, I don't know. I thought you wrote it." Her mouth dropped open as she stared at me and shook her head. "Mommy, why on earth would I write about football? I only write about fairies." I should have known this... But, back to the topic...we are always talking about fairies. Tonight, after we read Harriet the Hamster Fairy, I tucked her into bed and she looked at me with her sad face, which is the prompt for me to ask what is wrong. "Amelia, what's wrong? Why are you sad?" "Because..." "Because why?" "Because...I just wish so bad that fairies were real." "Well, who said that they weren't?" "Well, duh mommy...I've never seen one before so they can't be real." "Really? That's your test for if something is real? Do you think that Jesus is real?" Amelia gasped at me and said, "Of course he is real, mommy. Why would you even say that?" "Well, have you ever seen him?" "No." "So, that theory doesn't work, does it?" "I guess not, but do you really think you should be comparing Jesus to fairies?" Thinking that she had a good point, I said, "No, I don't think I should compare Jesus to fairies because Jesus is for sure real, but we can't be too sure about fairies, can we?" "I don't think they're real...but Joe in my class, he says that they are real! He says that he saw one before. I wasn't sure if he was trying to trick me, but he wasn't smiling or anything! So, I just have to keep looking." "That's right, Amelia! It makes me happy that you believe! Because I do too!" I kissed her on the forehead and started to head out of the door. "Mommy, just one more thing!" "What's that, Amelia?" "Do you know why I want there to be fairies so bad?" "Why, Amelia?" "Because they are good and fun and magical. And I think that there are too many things in real life that are just the opposite. Like my daddy dying, and like you not feeling well and having seizures, and people getting sick, and Lisa breaking her leg and being sick, and so many people hurting and feeling bad. I think we all could use a little fairy in our lives. And not just fairies. I think we need fairies, but I think we also need mermaids and unicorns...everything that is good and fun and magical. We need those things because life is too hard. Things are bad, and sad, and just too much. I'd rather talk about fairies than about not having a daddy. And wouldn't it be so fun if we could just think about unicorns and not cancer or being sick. So, I think we should look harder! We need to look harder for fairies and unicorns and mermaids! We need to believe that there really are these things. Because if Joe can see a fairy, I should be able to, don't ya think?" I smiled at my wise little girl and agreed with her. "We should look harder, sweetheart!" "Yeah, but mommy? We can only look for fairies or mermaids or unicorns. You know why? With our luck, we'd find a giant or a goblin or a Go-Gurt." "Did you say Go-Gurt? Like yogurt is a bad thing?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No, mommy...you know...a Go-Gurt. Like Shrek." "Oh! An Ogre...it's Ogre, honey." "Whatever, mommy...just avoid them, OK? We don't need anymore bad around here! Sheesh! I love you, mommy!" "I love you, Amelia." And I walked down the hallway to the living room. And once again, I cried. We do need magic in our lives! We all do. There were so many instances just today of times when we need magic. I have students who are struggling with death, and their mommas are too. I have teacher friends who are spending holidays missing loved ones. I have friends who are sick, friends who have cancer, friends who are injured. People are tired and stressed and worried and pressured. And in the midst of it all, I cry! I'm a crier anyway, but it's gotten worse lately and I'm not sure why. Other than I'm tired and stressed and worried and pressured. Other than I'm heading into the holiday stretch, which is hard. Other than my girl is talking more and more and I'm worried for her. There is just so much going on, but Amelia is right! We need to look harder. We need to look harder for the fairies and the mermaids and the unicorns. And not literally those things, but the happiness and joy and youth that they represent! We need to look harder for the things that made us happy and peaceful and young! There is so much hurt and hate and anger and angst in the world. Politics is stressful and the direction that our country is headed. Work is full of stressors, for all workers I'm sure, but especially for teachers and people in education. There is just so much heartache and tragedy in the world. Sometimes it's hard to stop and think about the magic of life! Because there is magic in everyday things. And I am lucky to have two little girls who remind me about the magic each and everyday. Working doesn't give me much time with them during the week, but when I am home it's pretending and magic and make-believe. It warms my heart when I reach into their hampers at the end of the week and the only clothes that are in there are pajamas and princess dresses...sign of a successful week! So, I hope that you take the time for magic...take the time to pause and really look for the fairies and mermaids and unicorns in your life...and take the time for prayer. Prayers for others in need, prayers for peace and joy, and especially at this time of year, prayers of Thanksgiving for the many blessings that we have in life. For although I am quick to see the losses and think about the hardships, I need to remember the blessings. For I am indeed blessed! I have a roof over our heads and a lovely home and yard for my girls to grow. I have a great job working with kids that I love. I have two of the most beautiful, smart, amazing little girls on the planet. I have a wonderful, loving family who are amazing and so important to all of us. I have the best friends anyone could ask for! I am blessed! I have it all! And I am so lucky to be able to be on the search for fairies. Take time to join me, because it's the best things in the world! And they're out there somewhere.

Mangrove Trees

I know I've talked before about Amelia's love of science, or even just her love of learning. She is so interested in anything science and the enthusiasm she has for the topics that they discuss is contagious. She loves talking about the topics that they are discussing in school. Just in the blog we've discussed giraffes, bats, and other topics that Amelia has come home excited about. Well, there's a new one to add to the list. Amelia and I had only been face to face about five minutes tonight when she started in sharing what she had learned. "Mommy! Guess what? We started studying a new topic tonight. Guess what it is?" "Hmm...I don't know, Amelia!" "No, really guess!" "Umm...OK. Is it..." "It's mangrove trees!" "Mangrove trees?" "Yes. But just to make sure you're saying it right, it's MangroVE trees...not mango trees. Mangos are fruit, and have nothing to do with what I'm about to tell you. These trees are AMAZING! They're called walking trees and they grow in the water and they are mostly in rivers. There are animals that live in them, and do you know that people, yes people, are destroying the mangrove forests and causing them to die?? They're just pulling them right up out of the water and there are animals and other creatures that live in them, and people just don't care about them either. They animals have no where else to go and they are dieing and people just don't care that bad things are happening to these beautiful trees." and the talk about mangrove, not mango, trees went on and on for like the first 15 minutes I was home, at least. She was horrified that no one was interested in what was happening to the trees, or the the animals that lived in the trees either. Later that night as I'm tucking her into bed, she says, "Mommy, just one more thing...Mommy, it's sad! I don't think it's right that people destroy things like the mangrove trees. Why can't we just be respectful with God's creation! It doesn't make any sense to be mean and cruel to plants and animals! We should love everything that God made and not destroy it. How would people feel if the places they lived were destroyed and no one cared. It's just not right." "You're right, Amelia. It's not right. So, all we can do is do our part to make sure that we're not destroying God's creation. Clean up after ourselves. Remember too be careful. Leave things the way we found them." "Hmm...just like our hearts." "What, Amelia? What are you talking about?" "Well, I'm worried about people destroying the trees and the animals. But, people are so mean to each other sometimes, that we destroy each others' hearts. Right, mommy?" "Sadly, you are right Amelia. We are not nice to each other and we destroy each other. It's just like bullying, or teasing, or being mean to each other. Why tear each other down when we could just build each other up?" "Mommy, I was worried about how I was going to save the mangrove trees. But maybe I should worry about how I'm going to save the people that are important to us! I know that we've kind of had a hard time the last few years, and our hearts sometimes feel like they are broken. But, I think if we try hard, we can help others with our broken hearts and show them how we mended them and they're not broken anymore." With tears in my eyes, I kissed Amelia's forehead and told her how proud I was of her. She is right. We have had a hard time lately, and our hearts have been broken, but it's just like the blog post from yesterday where I talk about walking the line. I know that we have a heavy, heart breaking story. I know that our story is filled with people tearing us down, and wanting us to be destroyed, but there were so many people that built us back up. So many people that bolstered us up in our trials and tribulation, and now that we are stronger and better than before, we all want to help others through our tragedy. This blog is one little piece of that. Maybe someone someday will read our story and will read some of the advice that we give, and will be bolstered up by our advice. Life is a delicate dance. Sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow, but always you dance! Don't let the haters tear our your mangrove forest. Fight for it! Know that there are a lot of things you can do to protect the forest. And fight for it! Because the fight now will be hard, but when you save a piece of yourself, or a piece of someone else, you'll realize it was worth it!

I Walk the Line

When the idea for this blog first started hatching, it began as a conversation in the workroom at my school between a few other teachers. I tossed the idea out there after regaling them with a funny story about Amelia. I shared that I thought it would be fun to share the stories that Amelia and I share right before she goes to bed becase she is so wise, so smart...but mostly she is simply hysterical. She is able to fire off quips and comebacks that make me giggle, and I wanted to share that with others. I always enjoy sharing Amelia-isms and I often posted stories about my girls to Facebook. These stories would eventually be shared with others who are not on Facebook and many of them would tell me that I needed to write them down. So, my thoughts about the blog, tied with people telling me to write down the stories from Amelia, sorta led to this blog thing. But then, something happened. My girl's stories right before bed switched. They went from the funny, light-hearted stories that I would often share at the workroom counter, to serious, heavy discussions that have led to some great blog posts (if I must say so myself...haha!). And the things that we discuss right before bed have given me some great "moral of the story" type lessons that have been great reminders for me, but have also been thought-provoking for some of my readers from comments I have gotten. But, I have to admit, there is a fine line between something that I should share, and something that I should not. And the line isn't always that clear. So, I debate...I bargain...I lament over which stories I share in order to help myself grow, or to potentially help someone else grow, and which stories remain sacred between a mother and a daughter. There were a few articles back where I posed the question about sharing the stories with others and if that would potentially make my daughter resent me. If my sharing stories with the internet would someday make her not want to share with me anymore. And I would never want to compromise that with Amelia. Her little spirit and her heart have already been through so much in her six years on this earth, that I would never want to be the cause of another blow. So, every night when I type my post for the night, I walk the line...I walk the line between a mom and a blogger. I walk the line between sharing and oversharing. I walk the line between potentially saving a stranger who reads our story and potentially losing the trust of my daughter some day. And I think that so far I have walked on the side of caution. Each story that I type is delicately written, read through a few dozen times, read from my perspective as well as trying to read it through my teenage daughter's eyes in ten years. And I hope that the stories that I am writing walk on the right side of that line, the side of the line that I want to be on with my kids. I struggled with this post tonight, because a conversation did happen tonight with Amelia. And this is the second night in a row that this conversation happened. And as much as I think it is important to share the conversation that we had, I just can't. I know, as a writer, that this is probably unfair to my readers. To lead into something that is a struggle, to tell you the time and thought that has gone into figuring out if I should share this story, and then to leave you hanging, but perhaps sometime in the near future this will be shared. Perhaps this is something that I am going to have to think on for longer than a couple hours. It is a tough line to tow. How exactly should I determine what to share and what to not? What are some topics that are off limits? When I think about myself and which topics I don't want discussed as an adult, the burden is ten times that when it is regarding a child, especially my child. And I'm sure not telling you, but leading into it with all this hype and mystery is probably making imaginations run wild with assumptions. And I think that's OK because the events of our life the past three years wouldn't be something that I would ever dream up in a million years. The story of how we all got to where we are today would never be something that I ever would have picked out as my story. But maybe this is true in anyone's life? Perhaps when you look at the events that got you to where you are right now in life, it's most likely not how you would have written the story! I know that this would not be my story. Well, not all of it. It's ended up pretty good. Speech therapy wasn't what I wanted to do when I went off to college, but I love my profession. Jackson Park was not the school I was hoping for, but it was the one available when I got hired, and I wouldn't pick another school now. Brian was the biggest nerd I'd met in my entire life and he wasn't my type at all, but I married him, and I now have the two best things in my entire life, my girls. Having to go through the death of the man that I married was horrific, but I wouldn't trade my experiences for not having to go through that, especially knowing that I wouldn't have Amelia and Emerson if I did. Think about your life. I'm sure that there is something in it that you would have done differently. Something that you maybe want to go back and change. But what would happen if you did? What would be missing in your life? What would be erased? What would be different? Life is unpredictable. And there is always a fine line that we walk every day. And there was a story to tell tonight and one day, I'll share it. It might be tomorrow, or it might be further along in the blog post. But for tonight, I need to pray on the topic, figure out if it's something that I share, if it's something that could help someone some day. The girls and I have experiences that can help others, and I see the value in that. I just don't want to share something to alter the course of the path we are supposed to take. Because the choices we make do impact the paths that we are led down. And we've kind of been on a wild ride. I don't want to do anything that make that worse. In the meantime, know that we are making our choices based on prayer and conversatios with each other. And sometimes, every once in a while, conversations with the readers of this blog. I enjoy the time that I share with my girls. The deep conversations that we have are eye-opening, and many of them I wish I didn't have to have with my six year old. But I keep having them, because we are growing and healing and getting through this together. In the meantime, I'm hoping for a funny story soon! But in the meantime, I walk the line...and I hope I don't lean too far in one direction.

Eternal Father

There were many pastors at my wedding. There was one up front that actually put the work in for us and married us. He went through marital counseling classes with us. And he helped us plan the wedding, and wrote our sermon, and did the officiant part. And then there were several there as guests of our wedding. Pastors who used to be pastors at our church. Pastors that I had grown up with in our church. Pastors who loved and cared for me and my family. I loved them all, and I was honored to have them be a part of our special day. They were all special to me for many reasons, and they still are special to me. I am thankful for Pastor Pulse for guiding me through many years of my teenage/college life. He was always there for me if I needed him. He talked me through many relationships, many breakups, many crises and I am so thankful for him. He walked me through my relationship with Brian. He married us, and wrote a wonderful sermon that I still look back on and read. Shortly after he married us, he took a Call to another position and left our church, but his last baptism at Peace was Amelia's, and I was so proud! I still have a strong connection to him, even though we don't speak often. I miss him...lots... Pastor Merz was the first pastor that I knew at Peace. He visited my Kindergarten class often when I started school at Peace. He had a German Shepherd and brought her into our classroom. He was a bearded man that reminded me of Santa. He had a hearty laugh and always gave you a thumbs up and a wink. He was a die hard Cougar fan and always told me he still loved me, even after I told him I had gotten into UW. From the first day he met me, he called me his little teacher, and a piece of me will always hope that he is proud of me and the choice that I made to work in education. He passed away a few years ago. There are certain songs that we sing at church that bring tears to my eyes as I think of him singing so robustly behind the pulpit...mostly What a Friend We Have in Jesus...and How Great Thou Art. Pastor Huelle is my current pastor. I was honored to have him baptize Emerson and welcome her into God's family. He was such a huge help around Brian's death and planning his funeral with me. He is the reason that I am back and church and enjoying it again, and I don't think he knows that. I don't share as much with him because I have been trying to find my way through this world for the past few years, but he is the reason that I have enjoyed church again. My girls thoroughly enjoy church, especially since he started the children's sermons. They feel oh so important as they make their way to the front of the church to hear his lessons. And I'm sure the sermon suckers he hands out at the end are a great incentive also. Pastor Ross was the assistant pastor at our church at one time. He was at our wedding also, and was also an important part of our lives. He is soft-spoken and kind and I also had many great chats with him. And still do when our paths cross sporadically. There were a few times when I needed to talk and I would drive to his little church in Seabeck to sit and visit with him. I am thankful for him as well. But, tonight, my heart and thoughts are with Pastor Hendricks. He was a Navy Chaplain at one time, I believe, and he filled in at our church when our regular pastor would be gone. He reminded me of my grandpa, and I looked to him as a grandpa. He was good for hugs always. I remember when he would fill in, I could not believe how long the man could pray! His prayers always seemed to be like twenty minutes longer than his sermons. My sister and I would exchange sideways glances like, "Really? We have to pray for each individual flower?" and then we would giggle and feel badly for making fun of prayer in church. He was such a sweet man, and he and his wife were so in love. He did so much for our church. And he wore overalls...just like my real grandpa. I looked to him like he was my own grandpa. Overalls and a hat and a hug and that's all I needed. The verbs in this paragraph are past tense because Mert passed away this morning. My mom called me at work this morning to let me know that he was gone. That he had died. He was so sick, and my first thought was he is so much better off, and then my thoughts turned to the selfish thoughts of, I want him here. I want to see him one more time. When was the last time I saw him? When was the last time I hugged him? And my heart breaks. And I cry. He meant so much to me, so much to my family...and even though we maybe made faces at his forty minute prayers, he taught me a lot about faith. He taught me a lot about MY faith, and about prayer, and in my reflection of this great man, I realize that I need to get back to the basic of prayer that he taught us. He was fervent in his prayers, and I am lacking and struggle with that piece. The song that immediately comes to mind when I think of Mert is the Navy Hymn. We often ended our services that he preached at with Eternal Father, Strong to Save...I know he's in a better place. When my mom and I were talking this afternoon about Mert again, we both said that there is no doubt where he is right now...rejoicing at the gates of heaven. No longer in pain, or suffering. And as amazing as that image is, it doesn't make it easier on those left here. My thoughts and prayers are with Mert's wife, sweet Martha, and the rest of his family. My prayers are with all of them. My heart breaks right now, and I am so sad. I know this will pass, but I hope that Mert knew what an impact he made on me, because he certainly did! He will be greatly missed...in his overalls and his cap, just like my grandpa. So, tonight's one more thing mommy moment comes in the form of admiration for pastors. We had family art night at our school tonight. It was a great time, and we got to do some fun artwork together as a family, with my parents and my girls and friends from the school. As I'm tucking Amelia into bed, she smiles and she says, "Mommy, that was the best night, wasn't it?" I smiled and said, "It really was, Amelia! You're such a talented artist and it was fun working on that project with you." Amelia smiled and said, "Do you know what is such a great thing, mommy? Pastor Huelle and Mrs. Huelle really care about me. Do you know that?" "I do, Amelia! We are very lucky to have them in our lives and at our church, aren't we?" "Yes, we really are! I don't know what I would do without them!" "I don't either, Amelia." And as tears began to flow down my cheeks, my sweet Amelia not knowing that Mert passed away, not even knowing how Mert was I don't think, I said, "Make sure you tell them that, Amelia...that's important to do!" "Why, mommy?" "Because you never know when you might not be able to do that anymore. You have to tell the people that you love how important they are to you. Say it often, and always mean it!" "Because they could leave us? Like die?" "Well, we don't know for sure. That's in God's timing. It's just super important to always tell people you love them. And how much they mean to you." "I will, mommy. I love Pastor and Mrs. Huelle! And I love you too!" "I love you too, Amelia. With all my heart." and not able to hold my tears in any longer for the day, I left Amelia's room and wept in grief. Grief for Pastor Mert. Grief for my grandpa. Grief for the hurt of Mert's family, and the other members of our church. My heart is broken...so sad to know that Mert is gone. But as I'm typing this out, I also see the blessing, in that he is with his Lord and Savior, just where we wants to be! And there is no doubt, that he is there, waiting for Martha, but rejoicing in being with Jesus. There is no doubt... Eternal Father, Strong to save, Whose arm hath bound the restless wave, Who bid'st the mighty Ocean deep Its own appointed limits keep; O hear us when we cry to thee, for those in peril on the sea.

The Walking Dead

I was pretty sheltered from bad TV shows and movies when I was growing up. Many of the TV shows that my parents let us watch are the very same shows that my children are watching now. My Little Pony, Strawberry Shortcake, Sesame Street...it's fun to be able to have an excuse to watch the cartoons again. My parents were very deliberate in what we were and weren't allowed to watch. My first adult film was when I was well into my teenage years, and was Pretty Woman, which by today's standards is very tame. I too am very careful with what I let my children watch. Amelia didn't watch TV the first few years of her life. We just didn't allow it. So much of the research today says that TV and electronics too early in life can be dangerous for children, potentially causing language difficulties, learning disabilities, and maybe even Autism, depending on what research you believe. So, I limited Amelia's viewing of TV. Emerson? Hmm...it was a difficult task with two babies. Brian passed away when Emerson was six months old so I wasn't as careful about not putting Emerson in front of a television, or handing her an iPad. But I still was very careful about what they were allowed to watch. Amelia never really wanted to watch anything but The Little Einsteins. Emerson's favorites are the Fresh Beat Band, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and Max and Ruby. We really don't veer too far off of this list, but I am very careful. Caillou barely makes the cut because he is mouthy to his parents, is a whiner, and I'm often finding myself calling him a brat. LOL! I don't allow Spongebob...or Rugrats...or Phineas and Ferb. And please don't think that I'm criticizing you if you allow your childred to watch these shows. I just don't! There are certain aspects of these shows that I don't agree with. So, my girls don't get to watch them. So, imagine my shock and horror when today, during one of my group sessions with some second graders, one of them started talking about the most recent episode of The Walking Dead. I paused, looked at them and said, "What's The Walking Dead?" Now, I have never watched this show. I don't watch much TV myself. (Remember...sheltered?) The only show that I follow religiously is Grey's Anatomy. But, I have heard bits and pieces from people. I knew it was about zombies. And thanks to Pinterest, I saw something that did a comparison of The Walking Dead to Toy Story, so I had a frame of reference, but still had no idea about the show. One of the kids at the table drops his mouth open and said, almost in disgust, "What do you mean what's The Walking Dead? You've never seen the show?" "Um...no, I haven't." "Mrs. Duncan! You should watch it. It's about zombies and people that aren't zombies trying to not get attacked by the zombies. It's so cool! You should watch it." And then, there was like a ten minute conversation bewteen these three second graders about The Walking Dead, and some guy named Rick, and how awesome the show was. There was talk of blood and guts and how gross that one part was. And I just couldn't stand it anymore... "Your parents let you watch this show?!" Again, I try super hard to not judge, but from what I was hearing, I wasn't sure this was an appropriate show for seven year olds to be watching. "Yeah! We watch it together sometimes. They think it's cool too!" So, we moved on with our game, and the class ended. I finished my day and came home, cooked dinner, did bath, and tucked my still slightly sickly six year old into bed. It's funny how my days sometimes just tie right together when Amelia's one more thing mommy moment was, "Mommy, why can't we watch Grey's Anatomy with you anymore?" Oh yeah...I didn't explain that part. Well, this summer when I was trying to catch up with Grey's Anatomy before the start of the new season so I could actually watch it on TV like a normal person, the girls would catch some pieces of the episodes with me. And then the plane crash episode came on, and for the first time, my girls were exposed to some TV that I'm ashamed they saw. So, as I'm judging one parent on The Walking Dead, I should not cast stones because I too make mistakes and make poor choices. So, tonight when Amelia asked that question, I kind of felt like it was God's way of saying, "Um...soften your heart lady. You're not perfect either, remember?" I explained to Amelia that Grey's Anatomy was a show for mommies to watch, and that there were a lot of grownup topics in the TV show that she was too little to be watching. She asked me why I used to let her watch it and I just told her that that was a mistake that mommy made, and that I wasn't comfortable with her seeing some of the things that were happening on the TV, and that it might be bad for her nightmares, and that I shouldn't have let her watch the shows before either. She said something about God being sad when icky shows were on, and I told her yes, that God doesn't want us to fill out hearts and our minds with bad images or bad thoughts or bad words. She nodded, asked to say a quick prayer to ask for forgiveness, and then wanted her kiss goodnight so she could get to bed. In my guilt of being too judgemental with these parents, I decided that maybe The Walking Dead wasn't so bad. Maybe I was being awful and judging parents wrongly. So, I searched for the show on Netflix. What luck! It was there. So, I got my chocolate for the night, and sat down to see what this show was all about. Maybe seven year olds have vivid imaginations and it wouldn't be so bad! I pressed play on the Blu Ray player and snuggled in for the show to start. And oh...my...goodness...I think I made it through maybe 30 mintues before I couldn't believe what I was seeing! It was gory and bloody and awful. There was shooting and stabbing and swearing. There were vivid images of bullets tearing through flesh. There were awful, disgusting zombie images with body parts that were gross. I was wrong to judge those parents, because I shouldn't do that, but I still could not believe that there were second graders watching this show. Second graders! Seven year old babies watching zombies tearing into a horse. Little boys and girls witnessing people getting picked off with a rifle like it was no big deal. Picture Amelia sitting next to me watching the show made me sad for these kiddos. I worry that watching the Disney movies will give Amelia nightmares, and these babies are watching this?! It made me very sad. I know that we are all different in our parenting styles. I know that there are some people that are reading this blog right now that maybe completely disagree with me. Maybe I am making people angry by my words, because I do realize that I am judging another parent. As many times as I have written in my previous blogs about how I don't want other people to judge me, that I'm doing the best that I can. I get it! I'm a hypocrite! But, it saddens me to think that there are little kids, little kids that I know and work with, that are watching The Walking Dead. I work with so many angry, violent, unhappy, depressed little kids and I can't imagine that watching shows like this is helping that any. I know that Amelia and Emerson both have vivid nightmares. We struggle to sleep many nights. I know that watching The Walking Dead tonight may give me nightmares. What is it doing to those little babies that cannot process everything that they are seeing with their seven year old brains. I feel sad for those kids. They are so young and innocent to be exposed to something as graphic and as gory as The Walking Dead. But in listening to their conversations, it was only the tip of the iceberg. They quickly jumped from talking about The Walking Dead, to talking about Breaking Bad (apparently a show about making meth) to playing Call of Duty and Grand Theft Auto 5 and Halo. I am glad that I protect my children's innocence. I know that things get through sometimes, like letting my guard down and letting them watch some Grey's Anatomy, but after hearing those kids talk today, and seeing the images from The Walking Dead, I feel more convicted than ever to be careful of what my children are exposed to. They grow up fast enough! And my kids have enough worries and anxieties without adding zombies to the list...

You Have No Idea

I know the intention for this blog was to share the cute little moments between me and my daughters, and so far I have stayed 100% true to that. I haven't blogged every night, because on the nights where we don't have school or work the next day, I'm in the middle of my king size bed with two little girls having a slumber party. And while I don't believe that Amelia or Emerson would be offended that I am writing about us, I don't want to take the precious time of slumber parties and falling asleep together to interrupt that for blog posts. And, it's virtually impossible to be sandwiched between two little girls and reach for my computer to blog without disturbing at least one of them. So, I committed myself to only blogging on the nights when they were safely and securely tucked into their own beds. We have not been feeling great in this house. Emerson has had a hacking cough probably since the last time I blogged that they were sick. Amelia has been feverish with an earache, but the lovely doctors at Prompt Care say that there is nothing wrong with her ears...or her throat...or her chest. She's just not feeling great. I have had the headache from...well, I've had a really bad headache for the past two days. So, needless to say, we're not really very fun to be around lately. Sleep has been sporadic, if any. We're tired. We're grumpy. We really just need a vacation. Luckily there is one just around the corner, if we can survive the next few weeks. Needless to say, there was really no one more thing mommy moment tonight, other than, "Mommy, can you please tuck me in first tonight?" which was followed by cheers from Emerson that she got to stay up a few minutes longer than Amelia. I tucked her in, kissed her goodnight, and have been in her room several times since then. She's freezing...she's too hot...she can't sleep...she doesn't want to sleep...her head hurts...her neck hurts...her ear hurts. Poor kid. I hate it when they are sick. Especially Amelia. She is not the best sick kid. So, hopefully this will pass quickly and we can go on with our lives. So, not having much to go off of in big girl's room, I made my way to Emerson's room to tuck her in. She stubbed her toe and needed a bandaid. Then, we did the worry dolls. Amelia hasn't had a bad dream in a while, and Emerson hasn't either, but Emerson has a newly developed fear of waking up alone in her room. Amelia wanted to help her little sister out, so she let Emerson borrow the worry dolls. They have worked wonders with Emerson also and she has not woken up scared since she started talking to the worry dolls. So, they are a miracle in my opinion. They have worked with both of my daughters immediately and they have saved them from many sleepless nights. So, I tucked Emerson in, she asked me to stay awake until she went to sleep (part of our nightly ritual also), and drifted off to sleep. Huh...0-2 in terms of good stories to share from my kiddos. Now what? Well, I could write about how I've been back on track for eating and I'm down 14 pounds in the last four weeks. Or I could talk about how busy I am at work right now and that I'm not really sure if I'm coming or going. But that's not interesting. I could tell you that I just took a momentary break from blogging to scare coyotes out of my backyard with the help of my daddy, but that might make some people that love me worry about me and my not afraid of anything attitude that gets me into trouble sometimes. Or, I could talk about how I was insulted at work today and made to feel very inferior, but that would most likely get me mad and hurt all over again, so that shouldn't come up. But, actually, I think that I will use that last piece to tie it into something positive. I've seen a picture on Facebook lately that people have posted that I've wanted to share 1000 times. I read it and my heart screams, YES! That's 100% correct! And that picture says, "Often the people who criticize your life are usually the same people that don't know the price you paid to get where you are today." This is so true. I have had many people that have critcized decisions that I have made on my way in my journey. And I think that this could be true of anyone, in any phase of life. There are always going to be people that will have some opinion to give of how you run your life, or how you choose to live. And that used to affect me very deeply. But there comes a time in your life when you have to realize that you know best. You know what you need to survive. You know what you need to move on. You know what you need to get through the bad times. You know what you need to celebrate the good. And the people that are going to judge just don't know. They don't know that you made tough choices along the way. They don't know the demons you had to fight to get to where you are. They don't understand the blood, sweat, and tears that were shed just to be able to wake up each and every morning. Many of you can probably relate to this on many levels. Surprising, tonight as I am typing this, I am not reading this statement and thinking all that I've been through with Brian. I am not. I am reading this statement tonight and thinking about how far I have come in my career. I carry a caseload of amazing children. I work very hard to form relationships with these children to help them be successful in their therapy skills. I am the department chair of over 30 SLPs and SLP-As. I write IEPs and have parent meetings. I lead department meetings and coordinate with the Director of Special Services. I collaborate with teachers, both general ed and special ed. I write social stories and read them to students. I run therapy groups. I delegate jobs to my assistant. I put out fires in our district, and in our building (not literally!!). I call parents. I have recess duty three mornings a week. I teach kids how to communicate. I'm probably a little bit biased, but I feel like I have the most important job in the school! I also have seizures. For those of you who have never experienced me having a seizures, it's not too scary. I don't have grand mal seizures where I would fall to the ground and shake like how seizures are typically shown on TV. I have two distinct types of seizures. I have absence seizures, where I could be carrying on a conversation with you and I would simply zone out, stare off...many times, if you didn't know I had seizures you might think I'm just thinking, or daydreaming. They are brief typically and you may not even notice. I also have seizures that I have a definite aura with. I know that I am going to have a seizure and I know that they are coming. I will tell you that I'm going to have one. And these are not a big deal either, although I do sort of go into fight or flight mode, and I'm not a fighter. So, I will try my hardest to make it to my friend Melody's portable if I happen to be at Jackson Park because I am mortified that I have them. I don't shake or convulse. I don't become incontinent. I don't really even lose consciousness. I lose time. And it may be a chain of several seizures where I stare off, or don't answer you, or can shake my head yes or no, but I don't typically remember anything about them when they are over. They are embarrassing for me and I can't necessarily tell you why, other than I wish I didn't have them. But, my brain has chosen to do this so I just deal with it. For a long time, I didn't really tell anyone, except a few people. My girls know, and both of them can identify when I'm having one, and we have our little emergency plan down. I am thankful to be blessed with two very smart children, who are able to find our emergency contact on my cell phone and call her if I need help. And if I'm at work, there are several of my children in my groups that also know the plan should something happen. But, I hadn't been very forward about telling my coworkers. But, it's hard to have seizures and work in a school district with people and not have that information get out. So, there are many people that know I have seizures and I'm ok with that. Or I was until today, because for the first time in my life, I felt discriminated against because of my seizures. Seizures are awful things. They are scary and frightening. It is very difficult for me, in particular, to come out of a seizure event and know that between the seizure and the utter exhaustion that causes me to sleep afterward that I have typically lost several hours of my life. It is difficult for me to know that there are things that I forget. Between the seizures, and the medications for the seizures, there are things that I simply struggle with. But, like many of my kids, I know what I have difficulty doing. I know where my deficits are and I have learned to cope with them. I write everything down! I have post it notes everywhere. I write down anything that I need to do in my planner, and if I don't, then I'm in trouble because I won't remember. I try to do important things immediately because if I don't get to them, I either don't do them, or I drop the ball. I have word-finding problems, that I don't feel like I had before so I either circumlocute, and talk around the word until I come up with it, or I just keep going so that hopefully no one notices that I'm struggling. Add the pieces that I miss from having seizures to the pieces that the darn medications take away from me, and it's any wonder I can communicate at all. My seizure medications are low dose. I'm on two different ones and they are not even the most potent out there, but they make me stupid too. I am often dizzy and groggy from them. The compound my memory and my word-finding troubles. I cannot multitask as well as I used to, and when I am forced to multitask, something suffers. Typically, my word-finding become more difficult. I am very aware of my deficits and it is very frustrating for me. I am a speech therapist! I am the one that teaches children how to compensate for word-finding problems. I'm the one that gives them strategies to get around memory deficits. And I'm also the one that struggles with some of the various topics that they struggle with. It's very frustrating for me, but I try to look past that and look at it from the point of view that I have the very unique position of knowing what they are going through. My poor babies that are medicated with way worse things than I'm on. My little kiddos who stuggle with language, making it difficult for them to read or write or do math even. My babies with seizures, and Autism, and Down Syndrome. My kiddos with hearding aids, or glasses, or wheelchairs. My little friends that get picked on because they are different. I never experienced this last one, I don't feel, until recently. I am the department chair for our speech department. I am not comfortable in a leadership role, but I frequently volunteer to do these roles to push myself. To make myself better in these roles. I want to develop the skills I need to be a leader, and I want to push myself to do things I'm not comfortable with in order to get over my fears and insecurities. I have done the chair position before, but I had to give up the last part of my tenure because it happened in the midst of everything with Brian's death and I just couldn't keep that piece at that time. I had many great friends in the department who gladly stepped in to help me out and I let go of the chair piece. But, I didn't want that to be my only attempt at the chair position, so I volunteered to do it again. And I haven't admitted this to anyone, especially any of the SLPs in our department (they'll know now, because I know there are several that read this) but this last round has been a struggle for me. It's been one added piece to my already full plate. I have only been doing the job for a little under three months and already we have had SLPs quit, SLPs get broken, schools not covered, assistants being shifted, caseload overages, and many other things. It's a lot to juggle the job of the department chair, and I've had to step up my game with trying to stay organized. And until recently, I thought I was doing a fairly decent job. Then, some things happened, and my confidence was shaken a bit, but I wasn't going to let that get me down. I knew that this was a difficult job to balance with the regular duties of a caseload and being a full time SLP at a school, so I pushed through, and made plans to readjust my strategies for helping me stay organized and get through. And then, I got a call...I wasn't doing my job as chair well. My communication isn't organized. I drop too many pieces. I make assumptions that I should. Perhaps my cognitive deficits from my seizures was just too much to make me an effective leader for the department...and those words stung. Maybe because I was afraid they were right. Like I said, I know there are pieces that are harder for me, but I didn't think they were impacting my job. But maybe they were...I was in tears most of the day anyways. Headaches and not feeling great make me weepy, but then this added layer of wondering if my peers think I'm incompetent was just too much. But then, I remembered my picture..."Often the people who criticize your life are usually the same people that don't know the price you paid to get where you are today." and this person has no idea! They were not part of the mess with Brian. They were not part of my seizures escalating and being a problem. They don't know what I've gone through in the last five, ten, fifteen years that has made me into the person I am today. And they cannot judge me or make me feel badly about the person that I am today, and what it took to get there. I know that I have deficits. I know that I struggle at times. I know that maybe I'm not the best person for the job as SLP department chair, but you know what? It has taken a lot to get me to the point that I'm at today. And I believe it was just a few short weeks ago that I was talking about the euphoria of moving on, and feeling better. And I'm not going to let the comments of a few people throw me off the course of where I was headed. I'm doing the best I can as department chair. I'm doing the best I can as an SLP with CKSD. I'm doing the best I can as a daughter. I'm doing the best I can as a sister. I'm doing the best I can as a friend. I'm doing the best I can as a momma. I'm doing the best I can...period. And there is not one single person that can take that away from me in this moment. So, what am I going to do? I'm doing to do the best I can, know that I will never please everyone, and do a better job of advocating for myself, in all my cognitive deficit glory. Because if that's what this person sees me for, I'm much more than that! And this person has no idea what it has taken to get me here!

Get serious...

I have tried to make it a point to never lie to my children. Sure, there are the things that someday they may think were lies...the Tooth Fairy...Santa...Elf on a Shelf...all those things that give all of us great joy! So, I don't look at those things as lies. I'm talking about things in parenthood that I know some parents are tempted to lie about to make certain explanations easier. Going through the ebbs and flows of life over the last few years, questions have come up that have made me think about lying. There are many questions that strike fear in my heart when they are asked. And I have never known what to say, but I have always crafted the answers to those questions extra carefully. Such as, "Mommy, how did daddy die?" I haven't wanted to address this with my kids so I carefully always give my scientific answer. "Well, his brain stopped working, and his heart stopped beating and he stopped breathing and he just died." Not a lie...and I'm saving the deep part of that truth for when I know it's the right time. Everyone tells me I'll know when that time is, so I'm trusting that and sticking with my scientific not-lie for now. Sometimes, the no lying thing gets me in a bit of trouble. Especially when I have a super-smart six-year-old. And sometimes, the no lying thing makes me laugh and reminds me that my dear, sweet Amelia is just six. Tonight as I was tucking Amelia into bed, she says, "Mommy, just one more thing, please!" "OK, Amelia...make it quick though. You need to get to bed." "Oh, nevermind Mommy. I know you'll say no..." These conversations also strike a little fear in my heart because it's usually something that she wants, and she's going to guilt me into getting the answer. But I pressed forward, bravely. "Go ahead, Amelia." "It's a very adult conversation and I know sometimes you're not ready to answer those questions." "Try me." "Ok...well...how to you make a baby?" Oh no!! She is six years old...and I was not prepared to have this conversation with her, especially right before bed on a night when we're not feeling so great. So, I prepared my standard "dodge the topic" statement. "Amelia, that is a very important question, and I know that you are looking for an answer. I cannot talk about that with you tonight, but I promise you that we will have this very important conversation sometime when you are older." Please feel free to use this statement! I read in a magazine article somewhere that children don't necessarily want to know the answers to the questions they are asking right then in that moment. They just want the reassurance that you will discuss it with them at some point. I use this answer when talking about our lives three years ago, or how Brian died, or now how babies are made. So, please feel free to use this when you feel it is warranted. It does work! "I knew it...I understand mommy. Maybe I'll ask when I'm more mature...like when I'm seven." "Uhh...yeah...maybe then..." as I'm thinking or NEVER! "I just need to know when you are going to talk to me about it." Huh?? This had never happened. Usually the topic just goes away until the next time she asks, but she's never asked me to commit to a timeline. "Well, Amelia. I am not sure when I will be ready to have this conversation with you. I can't guarantee that it will be when you're seven. Or even eight. I just need to see where we are in life and then I'll decide when to answer." "OK, mommy, but just to let you know, you are making me less smart." "What? What does that mean? How am I making you less smart?" "Well, I have a giant space saved in my brain right now to hold that answer to that question, and it's taking up blank space right now, which could be used for reading or math or more information about bats, but instead, it's just staying blank until you tell me how babies are made." "Ok, Amelia. I'm sorry that I'm destroying your learning, but that isn't going to make me tell you how babies are made any sooner. So, I love you, and I'm sorry your brain is going to be blank, but it'll just have to wait." and I kissed her head and started to walk about of her room. "Mommy...it's OK. I'm sure you'd just tell me something that wasn't true anyways like the time I asked you how babies got out of mommy's tummy. So, nevermind...I'll just wait." "OK, Amelia. I love you!" "I love you too..." And now, I need to share THAT story. Because if telling her how babies are made is half as funny as telling her how babies arrive, then I should just tell her now! I was watching an episode of Private Practice when she walked into the living room. A lady was having a baby, her legs in stirrups. Nothing was visible, but you could tell that something was going on. At the end of the scene, Addison flopped the newborn baby onto the mommy's tummy. I turned to glance at Amelia and she was standing there, eyebrows furrowed, nose wrinkled, mouth open... "Um...mommy? How do babies get out of their mommy's tummies?" My heart sank as I paused the show and looked at her. We discussed that this was a private mommy conversation, which Amelia and I have discussed that we don't talk about such things at school with friends. That this isn't something that other children should find out about from her, but from their own mommys when their mommys think they are ready to know. I told Amelia I felt like she was ready to know, but that I would be angry if I found out she told anyone at school because, seriously, I don't want her to be "that kid." She agreed that she wouldn't tell anyone and that if she had questions about it, she would wait until she could ask me. So, I told her how babies get out of mommys' tummies. From start to finish...her expression never changed. At the end of the process, she was still mouth open, eyebrows furrowed, nose wrinkled. I began to panic that I shouldn't have told her...that it was too much for my little girl and I had crushed her innocence. I just started back at her and said, "Are you ok?" "Mommy...I am trying to have a serious conversation with you. And if you are just going to make up ridiculous stories like that, then I will wait until you can be serious with me..." and then she walked away! She thought I was joking. She thought I was teasing her. She thought I was lying. I really, really wanted her to ask me how babies were made because I think that I could get that whole conversation out and she would think that was the most ridiculous thing also. I laughed, started my show back up again, and enjoyed the fact that my baby was just six. Knowing that she thought my story was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard made me glad to know that she is still just a little girl, and I don't want her to grow up too fast! So, I'll continue to use my statement to postpone the things that I'm not ready to talk about. I'll dodge the questions I don't want to answer right now. I'll put off answering the things that she is still too little to hear about. And I will trust that my mothering instinct will know exactly when to reveal that information. Because, honestly? I don't want her to ever know how her daddy died. And I don't want her to ever know how to make babies...because I want her to be my baby forever. I know that those two conversations will have to happen at some point. But for now, I want her to worry about whether she should write a story about a fairy or a mermaid. Or wonder what is for lunch tomorrow. We've had enough of the heavy converstaions. We've had enough of the conversations that I thought I would never have with my children. I just want her to be a child. To enjoy being little and playing and pretending. So, for now..."I'm not ready to have that conversation with you" is where we settle. And she's just fine with that and she knows that when mommy is ready, we'll talk about all those things...mommy just needs to get serious first...

Disney on Ice

The school that I work at is known for the transient population. Our doors are typically revolving as students transfer in and out. My caseload is forever changing. Most of my SLP coworkers write around 40-50 IEPs per year. In my twelve years at Jackson Park, I have only had one year where I didn't write at least 75 IEPs. I can dismissed 3 kids, and have 2 kids move in a month, but 5 are moving in right behind them. It makes me sad that a lot of my students aren't able to form lasting frienships because their friends are always moving. I feel that Amelia is blessed with the class that she is in. There are currently around 18 kids in her class and of those 18, many of them have been together since they were three and in preschool. They have formed lasting friendships, even at the age of six. Amelia has a bestie at school as she calls her. She knows I call my best friends besties so she has naturally picked up the phrase. We'll call her bestie Sarah to protect those children who have parents that might not appreciate their daughters being a part of a blog on the internet. Amelia and Sarah have been friends for the past two years and have gotten very close this year. They write notes to each other. They play together at recess. They run to each other and embrace in big hugs when they see each other in public. It warms my heart to know that Amelia has a bestie. Tonight during our reading time, my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, so I answered it. "Hello?" "Hi, is this Amelia's mom?" "Yes..." "This is Sarah's mom. I got your number from Amelia's godmother at school today. We are going to see Disney on Ice tomorrow night and we have an extra ticket. Sarah was wondering if you would let Amelia come with us tomorrow?" A smile spread across myself as I looked at Amelia. "What does she want? Are we having a sleepover? Can Sarah come play? What are we doing?" "Oh wow!! That is so nice! Of course Amelia can come with you guys." I got the details of the trip from Sarah's mom, thanked her 100 more times, and hung up. "That was Sarah's mom. They have an extra ticket to Disney on Ice and Sarah wants you to go with her." Amelia squealed in delight and started jumping up and down on the bed. After about 15 minutes of this, she flopped down next to me, waved her hand in the air and said, "Get reading! I have to get to bed! I have a very busy day tomorrow!" I finished reading Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. I carried Emerson to bed since she fell asleep around the part where the queen turned herself into the old woman, and came back into the bedroom to find Amelia writing a note. "What are you writing, sweetheart?" "I'm writing a note to Sarah. It says 'I like you Sarah. There is no good without you. Love, Amelia." She ran and threw the note in her backpack and then crawled into bed. I tucked her in, kissed her goodnight and headed for the door. "Mommy, just one more thing?" "Yes, Amelia." "Will you miss me tomorrow night?" "Yes, we will, but I am so so happy that you have your bestie and that you get to go on your first friend outing tomorrow that that happiness is bigger than how much I will miss you. So, I hope that you go and have a great time with your bestie." "Mommy, she's so much more than a bestie. That's how much I love her and want to be with her!" "That is so great Amelia!! I'm glad that you like Sarah so much!" "Mommy, sometimes I like her so much, I want to tell her that I love her!" "That's ok...you can tell her that you love her. I tell my friends that I love them all the time." "What? We can love more than our mommies?" "Of course you can! I love lots of people. I love my mommy and my daddy. I love you and Emerson. I love Aunt Julie and Uncle Ben and Grace and John. I love Melody and Clay and Kristi and Dale. There are lots of people that I love. And that's a good thing! And think about it for a second. You love all of the people that I just listed to. So, what would it hurt to add Sarah to that list too." "You're right, mommy! So, I don't want you to worry your pretty little head tomorrow. I've got this under control." "Oh, yeah? How so..." "Well, you just focus on Emerson. Sarah and I will be just fine! And I might even let her know that I love her!" "That sounds good to me, La! I love you!" "I love you more, mommy!" and I walked down the hallway to the living room. Friends are SO important in life! I have written about friends a few times on my blog. Friends are so important to me and the friends that I am blessed with in my life are a part of my family. I love my friends whole-heartedly. When you go through an unexpected event where a piece of your life is taken away, such as the passing of a husband, you tend to ponder on your life and the people in it. It doesn't take much for you to realize how precious life is, and how important it is to let those that are important to you how much they are loved. I am super paranoid about this! My life changed in a flash. The perfect life with the perfect family and that I knew was upended and my life changed in the flash. So, tell the people that are important to you that you love them, and do it often! I go out of my way to make sure that the people in my life know that they are loved and appreciated. Having a bestie is important! But don't assume that they know how much they mean to you. Tell them! Show them! Love them! Because it could all end in the blink of an eye. So, today, call a friend and let them know you are thinking about them. Send an e-mail telling someone that they are loved. Mail a card with a message of thanks to someone who has been there for you. Take a second to let the people in your life know that they are important...That they mean the world to you...That you are grateful they are in your life because you never know when they might not be...

Sisters!

Growing up on a farm where your neighbors are your family members sometimes posed a challenge. It was great living next door to my grandparents. I loved being able to have the run of 32 acres to play and have fun with, but when your neighbors are family, there's not exactly neighborhood kids to play with. My cousins are all a bit older than we are. Most of the cousins' children are closer to my age than my first cousins are. So, it wasn't exactly like we had neighborhood block parties and all the kids would get together to play. Not at all. So, I played with my sister. She and I were the best of friends. There wasn't anything that we didn't do together. And that's still mostly true, except that my sister now lives two states away in sunny California and I haven't seen her since March of this year...8 months and counting. I miss her SO much! But tonight, I got a little reminder of how much I love her and how amazing our relation is...and was! If you read a few blogs back, you will see that my family has struggled with nightmares. All three of us have been plagued by nightmares. I don't really think that you can go through the events we've gone through and not have nightmares, but then a few weeks ago there was an event that we went through together and the nightmares have stopped. For all three of us! And that transformation has been amazing, but Emerson is afraid to be alone in our house still. She needs one of us to go with her for everything...getting her Taggy out of her room, going to the bathroom, putting her laundry in the hamper. She's afraid and this fear has spilled into her sleep. For the past few night, she has woken up screaming in terror about being alone in her bed. I hold her and comfort her and carry her back to bed. I tuck her in and the cycle repeats itself. During the episodes, she typically wakes Amelia who wants to be mother hen and protect her sister. So, when I woke Amelia up this morning, she said, "Mommy, I'm going to let Emerson borrow my worry dolls. They worked for me and I don't use them anymore, so I'm passing them on to her." I was touched by Amelia's gesture, so when I tucked Emerson into bed tonight, Amelia explained the worry dolls to her and how they worked. She told her that she needed to choose a worry doll and tell one of her worries to the doll. Her worries for the night were MomMom, Nana, Me and Amelia, and being afraid to be by herself. We wrapped the worry dolls up and I went out of her room to get her ice water for the night. As I was coming back, I could hear Amelia talking. I slowly approached the doorway to Emerson's room and peeked around the corner. Amelia was laying in bed next to Emerson, stroking her hair with her little hands and talking to her. Emerson's eyes were heavy with sleep, and Amelia was being so comforting. "Emerson, don't you worry. You have so many people on your team. We're all here for you. Mommy is here and I am here. The worry dolls are here for you, and you've got all of the things that help you not have bad dreams. God is here and he is bigger than anything that is scary. He'll take care of you too. And we're here if you need anything. I love you, Em and you're the best sister in the whole world. I don't knwo what I would do without you. Do you know, you and are are joined together at our hearts because we are the same, you and me. I used to be shy (as her mother I don't remember THIS!!) and I used to be afraid and I used to have horrible dreams too. But all of the things that we gave you to help you, helped me so I just know and pray that they will help you too!" and she kept cycling through her talk with her until Emerson was sound asleep. I put Emerson's water in her bed, grabbed La's hand and we walkeed out of Emerson's room together. "Well, mommy. I think we did it! I think she'll finally have a peaceful night." "You're such an awesome sissy, Amelia. It make me cry to see you with Emerson like that. I could just see how much you love her and how much you want to protect her." "Well, of course I love her and want to protect her. She's my sister. That's why God put me first in our family. To protect her and take care of her. I love her and I would so so sad if anthing happened to her." I tucked Amelia into bed and handed her her water. I told her how proud I was of her. Not only for what a great sister she is, but also for all of the fears and worries that she has conquered. "Well, mommy...God gave me those experiences too, just so I could know how to help my sister!" With tears in my eyes, and another lesson in strength and dignity learned, I walked to Amelia's doorway. "Mommy...just one more thing?" "Of course..." "You know why I'm such a good sister?" "You just are, Amelia! You're kind and loving and compassionate." "No, mommy...well, yes...I am all those things. But it's because I grew up all these years watching you and Aunt Julie. You and her love each other so much and I want Emerson and me to be just like that!" "I want you and Emerson to be just like that too, La! Aunt Julie is my best friend and I always took care of her when we were little too (for the most part. Julie might have some different stories to share...) and now that we're all grown up, we are still best friends and I wouldn't trade my relationship with her for anything." "Yup! That's what I want. I'm gonna love that little squirt for ever and ever." "Good night, Amelia...I love you." "Good night, mommy. I hope we ALL rest good tonight. If not, it's back to the drawing board for us, huh?" "Yeah...I suppose so! Night, La!" and then I walked down the hallway to close up the house for the night. Holy cow! Am I blessed or what? I have two of the best little girls in the world and seeing how they love and care for each other made me realize that they will be forever friends, just like Julie and me. Even though Julie and I hardly get to talk, and we live far apart and we've gone the longest ever without seeing each other, we will always have that special bond of being sisters who were also best friends and confidants. We played together and shared secrets together. We stuck up for each other and covered for each other. We laugh and love and live and I am blessed to have her! So blessed! And it makes my heart super happy to know that my girls will have that too! They will always have each other! And there's nothing better than a sister!

The Normans

Monday night are dance days. Both of the girls have their dance classes in a span of two and a half hours on Monday nights. They don't get done until 5:30 so by the time dance is done, we're all hungry and exhausted and just want to get home to relax. But first, I usually pick up dinner on the way home for all of us. The past few weeks, I've discovered Panera! The broccoli cheddar soup is heaven in a bowl and is my new favorite go-to take out meal. So yummy! Oops, I digress...leave it to me to get off track by food! We got home from dance and I began to serve dinner out of the Panera bag. We had just finished saying prayers and started eating when there was a knock at the front door. My first thought was "No one uses our front door" and then my next thought is always a little bit of apprehension. Being a single mom with two little girls, it naturally makes me nervous when there is a knock on my door and it's dark outside and later at night. I started to clear a path to the front door. Since it's hardly ever used, the front entry becomes a bit of a catch all for shoes, ballet bags, leotards, backpacks, tights, homework folders, and whatever else maybe gets thrown into the pile during the week. Amelia had followed me to the door and peeked through the pillars of our entryway. "Oh great, mommy...it's the Normans." From the time Amelia was very little, the fine young men of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints have done their darndest to save me and my family. They come to our house quite often, looking to have a chat with me about my faith. Amelia grew up thinking that we were calling them Normans, rather than Mormons, so the moniker stuck! The Normans were at the door again... Now, before I continue my story, I feel the need to make sure that people understand that I have nothing against people of Mormon faith. I understand that there are different religions, and different beliefs. I understand that we all come from different backgrounds, and I am OK with that. Some of my most favorite people are Mormon and I have had conversations with them about their faith and my faith. So, now that that has been stated, I'll go on with my story. Amelia had peeked through the pillars and informed me that we were dealing with Normans again. And the "oh great" part from Amelia must have come from a bit of frustration that we do get visited quite often and I might have indicated this at one point to Amelia. I shushed Amelia as I peeked through the peephole, just to make sure. Yup...we had Normans on our porch. I cracked open the door and peeked my head through the opening. "Good evening, ma'am. We're representatives from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints." the young man stated with a huge grin on his face. I smiled back. "Yes?" "Could we come in and have a chat with you?" "Oh, thank you, but we are Lutheran and we are very solid in our faith and in our beliefs, but I appreciate the offer." I started to close the door when the other young man said, "Oh ma'am?" Ugh! Why do they have to call me ma'am! Seriously! But, I smiled and said, "Yes?" "Is there anything you'd like us to do? Anything you need help with?" Immediately in my head I'm thinking that it's pitch black outside, and I live on a farm. He was a pretty brave soul in his fresh-pressed suit and tie. "Oh, no thank you. We're really fine! Have a nice evening!" and I gently closed the door and locked it. Amelia was starting at me wide-eyed and her mouth open. She smiled at me and said, "Mommy! Those were the nicest Normans we've ever had! They heard we were Lutheran and they STILL wanted to help us out!" I chuckled at her and put my arm around her. "You're right, Amelia. They were the nicest Norman's we've ever had!" Amelia is very much like her mother, in that she sometimes needs extra processing time. So, tonight, I'm tucking Amelia into bed. I kiss her head, turn to walk out of her room, and pause at her doorway, waiting for the nightly statement. "Mommy, just one more thing?" "Yes, Amelia." "Last night, when the Normans came to our house? Why didn't you let them in?" "Well, there were several reasons. First, we were eating dinner and I was tired and wanted to get done so we could start bath and bed routine. And also, we're Lutheran." "I heard you say that to them. Why does that matter to them?" "Well, first of all, I have to tell you that they're not Normans. They're Mormons." "What?! No they're not...they're Normans." There are just some battles that I choose not to fight... "OK, well, when we say that those boys are Normans, it's like us being Lutheran. They believe in the teachings that they are taught. We believe in the teachings we are taught. There are some things that we believe that are the same, but many of our beliefs are very different." "Well, why do they want to talk to us? Do they want to see what we believe?" "Hmm...maybe. But I think more importantly, they'd like to tell us about their church." "Oh, so we would sit down and compare churches?" "Well, I don't really think that's the point. They want to tell us all about being Mormon so that we might want to join their church." "What?! Why would they do that? We already have a church." "They're missionaries." "Ohhh...so it's like their job to collect as many people as they can to go to their church and believe in God?" "Yes. That's the idea." "Huh...well, I like being Lutheran, so I guess we could have had them come in and told them about our church. Maybe they'd like to come to Peace with us! Pastor Huelle gives out great sermon suckers." "You're right Amelia. Maybe we should have invited them in and talked to them about being Lutheran. You're a great witness for God!" "Thanks, mommy...that's what it's all about, you know! Getting people to believe in God so we can all be together in heaven." "You're right, Amelia. You know what? Next time the Normans come, we should invite them in. And you can share your great faith with them." "That sounds like a good plan, mommy because, seriously, the next two Normans we get might not want to help us with things. That was super nice of them!" I tried hard not to laugh at my little girl. I kissed her good night and walked down the hallway. Thinking about our conversation I am struck once again by Amelia's wisdom. She is so smart and such a faithful servant. Where I hear the knock and see the Normans and want to send them away right away, Amelia wants to welcome them into our home and be a witness for Christ. Where I cringe and silently curse them for coming at night when we can't hide, Amelia wants to let her light shine. There are many lessons that I learn from Amelia, from both of my children, but seeing the strength of her faith after all her little soul has been through is amazing to me. It is a lesson to me because we are taught to live like Jesus, and I am often guilty of not. Rather than closing the door and locking them out, Amelia reminds me we could turn the table and witness to them! Share with them our beliefs, invite them to our church! What a little missionary. I'm proud of her! I'm proud of the young example she is for me! I'm proud that she is firm in her faith and ready to witness! So, the next time there's a knock on my door, I may grumble for a minute that the Normans are on my porch. But, I will quickly open the door, invite them in, and release Amelia on them, and follow her example, because I think even the Normans might have something to learn from her wise soul.

Puff, the Magic Dragon

My parents loved Peter, Paul, and Mary. I remember watching their special everytime it was on PBS, and us singing together as a family. It's one of my favorite memories. My dad wasn't the best singer in the world, but I remember sitting at his feet and listening to him sing along to the songs with tears in his eyes, and I would cry too, just because I knew how much the songs meant to my dad. I couldn't wait until Puff, the Magic Dragon would come on. I loved that song! (And I know there are theories about alternative meanings of the song, but it will always just be a song about a dragon and his boy to me, just to clear THAT up!) I would sing the song along with the TV, and my parents. They would sing it to me on many occasions. I loved hearing about that dragon and imagining what it would be like to have a dragon of my own. Then, they bought me the animated movie. I remember how excited I was. I climbed onto my parents bed fresh out of bath and in my jammies and we started the movie. It was just like the song. Jackie Paper was a little boy who had a dragon visit. He went on many adventures with Puff. He made a boat to float to Honalee. They played with pirates. They met kings and princes. It was the best story ever. And then, Jackie Paper "grew up" but in the movie he just left Puff. I remember sitting on my mom's bed and crying, sobbing really. How sad that Jackie had to grow up! Why didn't he want to play with Puff anymore? Why did I have to grow up? I sobbed into my mom and dad's arms...not wanting to ever have to grow up. Tonight, in our nightly reading homework, Amelia and I didn't plan for the long weekend and we didn't have enough fairy books to cover all three days! So, I told the girls that we would each pick a story off of the book shelf. Amelia chose Franklin Goes to the Hospital. Emerson picked Brown Bear, Brown Bear What Do You See? And I found the Puff, the Magic Dragon book I had purchased at our book fair many years ago. I had not read it to my girls yet and I was so excited. We read the girls' books first, and then I pulled out Puff. I read the title and Amelia's face lit up. "A book about dragons? Cool!" I smiled at her and turned to the first page. As I read the first line, "Puff, the Magic Dragon lived by the sea..." I couldn't help but want to sing the song. "Girls, this book is a song. Do you want me to sing it? Or read it?" "Sing it!" they both chimed at the same time. So, I started into the story singing the lines. The tune came back, my heart filled with memories, and a smile came across my face. The girls listened intently as I turned page after page. Amelia's eyes filled with wonder as she saw the scenes of pirate ships, and kings...a sailboat with billowed sails. And then I turned the page. The next line caused my voice to catch "A dragon lives forever, but not so little girls and boys. Painted wings and giants' rings make way for other toys." I paused, trying to regain my composure and read the next lines. "One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more, And Puff, that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar." and I lost it. I went back to that time sitting on my mom's bed, remembering how sad I felt for Puff. And now, being the adult sitting on my bed surrounded by my children, the meaning of the book was even deeper for me. We grow up! We move on! We have to be adults! And it's sad and hard to leave those things behind. But then, the joy of children! We get to experience it again. It didn't make the book any less emotional for me. In fact, it make it more emotional, because now I was the parent not wanting my children to grow up. Peter Yarrow, from Peter, Paul, and Mary, is the author of this book. And he does a wonderful thing with the book! At the end, as the last chorus is written out, the illustrations show a little girl, coming to bring Puff out of his cave and play, and standing in the background is her father, Jackie Paper! This brings us to our just one more thing, mommy moment. I was tucking Amelia into bed for the night, and I turned out the light and Amelia said, "Just one more thing please mommy?" I smiled and paused at her door, like always. "What's that, Amelia?" "Why did you start crying when you were reading us that dragon book?" "Well, for several reasons, Amelia. Puff, the Magic Dragon was one of mommy's favorites when she was little. It was such a good memory for mommy with Pa and MomMom that I couldn't hold the tears back when I was singing. "What else?" "Well, it makes me sad for Puff and for Jackie Paper that Jackie had to grow up! Puff missed his friend Jackie and that makes me cry." "What else, mommy?" "Well, it also makes me a little bit sad that you and Emerson are growing up so fast! I love listening to you both play with your toys, and imagine, and create, and dream of fairies and princesses and dragons. Reading the book and seeing Jackie Paper grow up made me sad, but then I cried happy tears when Jackie brought his daughter back to meet Puff. Because even though he grew up, he shared his childhood memories with his little girl." "Mommy! That's just like us!" "What do you mean, Amelia!" "Well, you used to like Puff when you were a little girl. And you had to grow up. When's the last time you watched the Puff movie?" "Hmm...I was probably 13 or so..." "And now, you have me and you have Em and you're reading the Puff book to us! You're just like Jackie Paper, and we're just like his daughter. You're bringing magic to us even though you're a grown up." "Wow...I guess you're right, Amelia! I'm glad I get to share this with you. It means a lot to me." "I know. Isn't it nice that mommies have babies so they can keep being kids over and over again?" I smiled at her, kissed her forehead, and told her she was exactly right. And isn't she? I know that as a mommy, I am loving playing with my girls and sharing with them the things that I used to do when I was little. And she's right in that having babies is the best way to still be a kid! I get to play, and imagine, and create, right along side my babies! I get to pretend. I get to be a princess, or play My Little Pony, or put together plays about dragons and fairies. And I get to do all of those things just because I'm a mom! What an honor! So, what memories do you have of your childhood that you would like to pass on to your kids? Is it Puff? If there another story? Is there a game? After Jackie Paper leaves, the book reads, "His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain. Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane. Without his lifelong friend, Puff could not be brave. So Puff, that mighty dragon, sadly slipped into his cave." Think about life for a second. Think about life without your children. I can't even imagine where I would be if I didn't have those two precious little people. Puff couldn't handle it without Jackie. He was heartbroken...devasted. But then, he returned with his daughter and the cycle continued! Continue that cycle! Share with your children. Reading the story, having the conversation with Amelia, and reflecting on it now fills my heart with joy! I get to share this piece of me with my girls. My eyes fill with tears of joy just typing those words out! What an honor! What a position to be put in! What a job to have! I am thankful that God entrusted Amelia and Emerson to me...and I am thankful that I have these moments, for while they are little I hope they go to Honalee often with me, and continue the cycle when they become mommas. What a gift! Thank you, to Peter, Paul, and Mary, for giving us something to share among the generations in my family!

Protector

There is no single job as a mother that is more important than protecting your babies. At least in my opinion. There are so many things that we need to protect our children from, that it can be overwhelming at times. And it's really not something that you want your six year old fretting over, but mine happens to have anxiety about a lot of things. Tonight, while we were chatting on the phone with a friend, my parents' dog started barking. I excused myself from the bedroom to go and check to make sure all was well outside. Amelia immediately started worrying about what was wrong. I was hoping the phone call would be a distraction to her, but her ability to observe everything got in the way of that plan. She tailed right behind me into the living room. What was it? What did I see? Was something outside? Why was she still barking? Why was Sissy growling? I took the phone from her hand, said good night to our friend, and walked Amelia to her room. I told her that I didn't see anything wrong outside, that Suzie was probably barking at someone walking on the road. She relaxed and the conversation turned to Santa Claus and that maybe it was him test flying the reindeer, which then led to a conversation about what she wanted for Christmas. I cut her a bit short because in the background I could hear the dogs still barking and I was trying to figure out how to investigate without alarming Amelia. I tucked her in, kissed her head, and told her to sleep well. She smiled at me and said, "Mommy...just one more thing...what would happen if someone tried to break into our house. What would you do?" "I would grab Emerson, and you, and lock us in mommy's bathroom and call the police." "What would happen if he got in? What if he killed you? I don't think I could live without you." This thought brought (brings?!) tears to my eyes. Not because the thought of dying frightens me, but because the thought of not being able to protect my girls frightens me. But, I remained upbeat and told her that that would not happen. That Sissy would protect us first of all. And that if anyone got in, I would fight to make sure that Amelia and Emerson and Mommy were safe. She seemed happy with that answer. She laid back down, and said, "Thank you, mommy, for always protecting us. God really blessed me with a great mommy because I know that you will do everything to make sure we are safe and happy." I told her I loved her and made my way out the living room. And I cried. Those words were the best thing that I could ever hear. There were many times as a mom that I feel like I failed in my job to protect my children. There was the time that Emerson fell down all of the stone steps in our backyard and I had to take her to the doctor with owies on her face. And then there was the four times this summer when Amelia got stung by bees. Amelia is pretty allergic to bees, so that's not a good thing. And these are only just a couple examples. There have been many more times when I felt like I failed to protect my children. It breaks my heart. It eats me alive. They are so young and innocent and they look to me to protect them. They look to me to guard them and keep them safe. And I know that I'm not done messing up either! I'm sure that there will be many more times when I don't protect them the way I should. But, I also know that I do the best I can. I know that I have learned many lessons about protecting them, and that all of those little incidents will help to make me a better momma in the future. And I know that even though it's hard to think that you have let your kids down, that you haven't done your best to protect them, that moments like tonight happen where Amelia looks at me as her hero and that she knows with 100% certainty that I would protect her. And I would and part of that drive is knowing how awful it felt when I failed to protect them. The times when I let them down and they got hurt. My prayer is that God helps me be the momma bear, the protector that my daughters need. And if I can't be the one, that He give me strength to ask for help, and that He also give me strength to ask for forgiveness when I fail. They are my babies. There is nothing more important than their health and safety and there is nothing I wouldn't do for them. I would die for them, if I needed to, and my love for them is so great, my heart wants to burst everytime I look at them. So, there was no need to barricade ourselves into the bathroom tonight, but it's good to know that I would if I needed to. And it's amazing to know that the two little people in my home know that I would protect them with all my power and all my ability. And it's also amazing to know that I have created two little lives that are more important to me than my own. They are my everything, and thinking about being separated from them is unfathomable to me. I love our little family. And I love that Amelia realizes that I want to protect her, even in the midst of failing her in the past. She is amazing, and oh so resilient and I am blessed to have her, and Emerson. I am thankful that He entrusts me with them daily!

A Steel Trap

The time change is so hard on little kids...oh, who am I kidding?! The time change is so hard on me...LOL! I have been sooooo tired lately. Most days I'm just dragging. With it getting dark earlier, I have pushed bath time earlier, which give our evenings a much more relaxed feel. I'm not yelling and rushing to get everything squeezed in before bed time and it is so much nicer! Except, in my plan to slow things down, some of the structure has been lost in our nightly routines and my two smarty pants girls are taking full advantage of that. Where we used to sit down together and read the three of us huddled under a blanket, we are now pausing to take breaks in the middle of the story, or not even really listening. I got frustrated with them a bit tonight and told Amelia that we were doing this mostly for her homework and if she wasn't going to pay attention, then she would have to do her reading by herself. Being the naturally guilty little girl that she is, she ran to her room, threw herself on her bed, and began sobbing her little heart out. I tucked Emerson into bed, and then made my way into Amelia's room. "Amelia, why are you crying?" "I just don't know. And you know once I start, I just can't stop." (Which is completely true...just like her momma! LOL) "Well, why don't we take a breath and see if we can figure out why you are crying." "It's because you don't think I was paying attention to the story!" "Well, while I was reading you were doing everything BUT listening, so I know that you weren't paying attention to the story." "But I WAS!" "Well, prove it then!" "What??" "Prove it! Tell me about the story. Tell me what the story was about from start to finish." "But I'm not going to remember every word in the book!" "You don't have to! You just need to be able to retell the story so that I would know what it is about." "OK...well, it started in Kirsty's house and Mr. and Mrs. Tate were getting dressed to go to the rock and roll party..." and then she proceeded to pretty much tell me word for word what the story was about in great detail. Details that I NEVER thought she would know. I sat up on her bed, my mouth opened as I listened to her tell details of the story that I thought for sure she was too busy to hear, or too distracted to know. "Amelia, I have to tell you I'm sorry." "Why?" "Because I was wrong. You looked like you weren't paying attention and I assumed that you weren't, and that you had no idea what the story was about, but I should have known better. I'm sorry that I was wrong, and I'm sorry that I accused you not paying attention. Next time, I will find out the facts before I make assumptions." "It's OK, mommy. There are a lot of people that assume that I'm not paying attention, but I am, always. And I always notice everything, and I'm pretty good at remembering things. I'm pretty much the most dangerous thing to people that are sharing things they don't want anyone knowing. Because I pretty much pay attention to everything around me, but I can look like I'm not." I know that my daughter is smart and amazing. I know that she has a wicked memory that I would kill for. I know that she is observant and never misses a beat. I know that she is always quiet and sitting on the sidelines, and because of these things, she is right. She is dangerous! I apologized one more time and started to head down the hallway, when I hear her say, "Just one more thing, mommy!" "Yes, Amelia?" "I promise to use my super powers only for good..." and then she giggled. She told me that she loved me and she rolled over and went to sleep. I chuckled a little to my self as I thought about her thinking she has super powers. And in reality, the abilities that she has could be considered a super power to some. And then I thought about her comment about only using it for good. And she's right about that too! The gifts that she has with observation could be used against people. I think about all of the conversations that I have had with people assuming that Amelia isn't paying attention, when in reality she is absorbing every last detail. My heart sinks a bit, wondering what she hears, or what I say to others about her, or about her sister. And then, that got me thinking that our relationship with God isn't any different. He hears everything we say. He knows what we are talking about. He sees everything. And to think that I have an earthly reminder of that in my own home will be a great tool. Because I need to think that Amelia will hear and see everything. And maybe this will help me make better choices. Not talk about other people. Not discuss sensitive matters with others when I think Amelia is just in the other room. Not assume that I am keeping secrets from her. And my relationship with God should be the same way! No secrets. No hiding anything. No poor choices! Amelia is a special little girl, and she is smart and is so lucky to have the traits that she has. I grew up being a very observant child and it definitely comes in handy in my adult life as well. I only wish I had her memory! So, thinking a little differently from here on out to protect my kiddo from things she shouldn't be hearing...because there are certain things that will not go on my blog, and certain things that I am not ready for Amelia to have to face. So, they shouldn't be said aloud to anyone because the last thing I want to do is reveal information to Amelia without being the one talking to her directly. I need to set my filter higher to avoid hurting my little girl...a good lesson for all parents! Our kiddos are little sponges and they are absorbing everything, even the things we don't intend for them to absorb. Tonight, I was thankful for her talent and skill of paying attention even when I think she is not. And even when I look at the other implications, I'm still thankful...thankful that I am getting a second chance to pause before commenting. I am their momma and it is my job to protect them...even if that means protecting them from themselves, or from a careless, or maybe clueless, momma...

God Only Knows...

Sometimes, the one more thing mommy moments that I share with Amelia are heavy...like really, really heavy. And sharing them on this blog is a hard thing for me to do because of several reasons. There's the part where I'm worried that Amelia wil resent me for sharing things with all of the internet. And there's the part where I'm self-conscious with sharing with people how I react to our conversations. I don't have the best confidence in my answers to her oftentimes very deep questions, and I can get away with giving a stupid answer with my six-year-old. Not so true with the general blog-reading public. So, I'll share, but don't judge...I do the best that I can! Tonight's topic: death and heaven and Satan and...yeah...it was a good one. It started off as a talk about friendships. I knew exactly where I was going with this one. Amelia brought up one of my very best friends and her special connection with this person and how much she misses her and how she's so lucky to have this person in her life, and I was going to tie it into an incident that I had witnessed and how much I admire this person and then...with one innocent question, that whole plan started to crumble. The one more thing mommy moment we ended up discussing was more important. While we were reading our stories tonight, Emerson decided she didn't want to listen to Amelia's pick for the book and she chose to throw a fit on my bed while I sat calmly reading the story to Amelia. She threw her tantrum (as well as a few things across my room) as I continued to read Tasha the Tap Dance Fairy to Amelia. When the story was over, I walked Emerson to her room, tucked her in, told her I loved her and that I was sad we couldn't read her books. She apologized to me, and to Amelia and rolled over and went to sleep. As I was tucking Amelia into bed, she said, "I know what made Emerson act like that." "What?" "Satan..." "Well, I'm sure he played some part in it." "Emerson doesn't act like that, so I'm pretty sure Satan took over." This part of the conversation turned into a first grade sized lesson on free will and repenting and asking forgiveness. Amelia nodded and then asked, "Why does Satan work so hard to make us not listen to God?" "Well, he hates God so much that he wants God to lose. And when we are naughty and do bad things, Satan wins and God loses." "Hmm...it seems like it's hopeless getting into heaven then." "No, it's not hopeless. What's the one thing we have to do to get into heaven." "Die..." I laughed out loud...I try not to laugh AT my children, but I couldn't help it. "Well, yes, you do need to die first, but as Christians, after the being dead part, what is the one thing we need to do to get into heaven?" "Believe in God..." "Right! All we have to do is believe in God and believe that Jesus is our Saviour, and we go to heaven." "So, we don't have to be good?" "Oh, those things are very important. We need to be good, and follow the 10 comandments, and repent when we have done something wrong..." "Mommy? Do you think daddy is in heaven?" "I can't answer that Amelia, but I certainly hope that he is." "Why can't you answer that?" "Well, because I don't know what he believed when he died. I know that when we talked he told me he was a Christian, but it's not my place to judge and try to guess if daddy is in heaven. Just like I wouldn't know if you were in heaven. That's between you and God." "I wish there was something we could do to make it so Satan doesn't win and that there were more people in heaven than in hell. Ohhhh...wait a minute! There IS something we can do! We can tell people about God and try and get them to believe that Jesus died for us. Silly me..." I smiled and kissed her forehead. I told her that I loved her and turned out the light...and then I thought...and thought...and thought. Our conversations are always so serious. That girl is a thinker! And I wish I could have said that her daddy was in heaven with 100% certainty, but it is not something I would guess on. All I can do is coach her with what we believe and help her to understand what she needs to believe to get to heaven herself. I can only teach her what we believe as Lutherans, and what we believe as Christians and pray for her that she will grow to know and love Him, and that she will renounce the devil and all his works and all his ways. She is such a believer already! She is so strong in her faith and in her love for God. I heard that from many people that watched her performance in chapel last week. And I hear from others that hear her pray and profess her faith in God. And I see it in the way she is with Emerson, and in the talks that we have. It is comforting to know that she is being raised in the Lutheran church, and that she is being taught all of these important lessons in school. I am thankful that she has these opportunities. And as hard as some of these conversations are, I'm glad that she is asking me the questions she is asking, like wondering if her daddy is in heaven. Or asking me if I think there are more people in heaven or hell. She is a deep thinker, and the conversations that we have make me a better thinker. I know that our conversation this week was based off of the sermon from church on Sunday. We talked about heaven and what a great place it is, and how we will be with other believers and that we will recognize each other when we get to heaven. I know that she is wondering if she will see her daddy again. And I know that she is wondering if our friends and family will be there with us. And all I could tell her was to pray for daddy, and to pray for our friends and family, because I hope they are all there too... Some blog posts bring me to tears...and this one has. My heart aches for my little girl...and my heart aches for my husband. God only knows...