Joy

You have filled my heart with greater joy....

Psalm 4:7

Yay Three!

Did ya'll ever watch the Cosby Show episode where Rudy was five years old and felt left out of the family, so Claire Huxtable (sp??) ends up in a tent in the back yard with her, convincing her that being five years old is really great? And, at the end Claire and Rudy are saying things like "Five year olds can (you fill in the blank). Yay Five!"

Well, I am convinced Claire had her timing all wrong. She was supposed to say "Yay Three" because 3 is the age (at least at our house) in which little ones go potty. All. By. Themselves.

YAY THREE!!!

I have been holding off sharing the good news for one week now so as not to jinx the luck we're having. Apparently, all of you wise mommas out there were right when you told me to 1)Wait until he's three and 2)He'll tell you when he's ready. The first one sounded dreadfully okay but the second one seemed unbelievable.

Until last Tuesday when Garrett announced that he was ready to wear big-boy undies and use the potty. And get a fish. Because I had promised him a while back a fish for his bathroom (to look at while going potty) if he chose to use the potty. The enticement fizzled for many weeks. But, after seeing a fish tank at a doctors appointment, he pulled that thought from about 2 months ago out of his memory and badgered me with it all morning long.

So, I did what I had to do. We bought the fish. We bought MORE big boy undies and these magical "protectors" that have allowed ME to not worry as much about accidents - thank you lovely lady at church for the recommendation - genius! (And in case you are wanting or looking for them, we actually ended up finding them at Wal-Mart)

I really thought that potty training would entail loads of laundry, tantrums and staying home all of the time. But, I was wrong. We've been on the go from day one and no problems. REALLY? REALLY? I keep thinking Garrett will change his mind. But, I called his Daddy at work today to say, due to a series of lovely pottying accomplishments this morning, that there's no turning back. This kiddo is serious about his potty. I hope I don't have to eat those words anytime in the near future.

Until then.......YAY THREE!

Stick 'Em Up, Line 'Em Up!

Look closely and you will see that Garrett is lining up tiny reward type stickers all across the back of my shirt. Two things the boy adores most in life: stickers and lining things up!

Still Alive, Well and Now Whining

Well, peeps. It is true. I am still alive, well and my preschooler is now into whining (even though via this blog you might just think I was on another planet without a connection to the Internet and hence the lack of entries).

A wise momma friend of mine said that right around age three this might happen again. I chose not to believe her because if I did that, it might come true. Dern. My disbelief didn't work. I must say that these three year old tantrums really aren't that bad. No where near like two. But, the tantrums have weaseled their way back into our lives with the added bonus of whining and persuasion and three year old reasoning. Here's a mild sampling of my son's reasoning:

Momma, I do not HAVE to do any-fing. It is MY choice, Momma. I chose to not do ANY-FING. That is a good choice, Momma. Because I am the boss. Not you, Momma.

On a much brighter note, it is October and our "new" life is set to begin. By "new" I mean that G's preschool was set to open and his Kindermusik class was ready to begin (really the last week of September). Unfortunately we did not get to begin either last week due to viral infection number two of the season and the fact that the preschool (which is under construction) opening has been delayed. Again. To October 15th. No problem. No issue.

Until we went to turn in some additional paperwork today and the lovely (really, she is) director stated November is now the new start date. I really am in no hurry to get G into school because although tantrumitis has hit, we really have great days together. BUT, I am dreading the separation anxiety (for him, not me) that is to come and have been preparing G for the new change for about 1 1/2 months. Every time we drive by the school, he asks, "Momma, is it ready yet?" Poor kiddo. He probably thinks I'm making it all up.

We DID get to go to Kindersmusik today. We have not been to Kindermusik since G was about 20 months old. I was a little nervous about the revisiting this adventure only because it was with someone new and at her house and our last experience was smack dab in the start of the 2's. And, oh yes, Momma couldn't stay. Or isn't supposed to. But G's teacher, Ms. Lissa, was so great. She let me stay in the room and then back into the hallway this first week.

And, oh honey child. Garrett LOVED him some Kindersmusik. He ran. He sang. He squealed. He hugged on some new friends. He played instruments. If there is a Garrett version of Heaven here on Earth, this was it. I am so glad I did get to stay to see the joy that oozed from his eyes and body. Homeboy was truly in his element. While I will drop him off next time, I almost want to leave a video camera to capture his excitement. As a parent, this is the stuff I live for - seeing my child peering into what we think will be a talent of his one day and exude sheer giddiness about it.

Which got me thinking. Isn't that exactly what our Heavenly Father loves to see in us, His children? I cannot capture in words the soaring emotion I experienced watching Garrett today. My love for him is beyond words. And, because I take the Word for Truth, I know God loves me and Garrett and all of us a million times more than I can fathom. What kind of joy did He find in watching Garrett today?

I'll never forget being up late one night feeding a newborn little man and crying tears of joy over how much I love him. And that's when it hit me. As much as I love Garrett, God loves him so much more. And me so much more than my Earthly parents love me. It was as if I really got that Heavenly-Father-love-thing for the first time.

As I leave you today with probably the most unorganized thought process of writing, I challenge you to try and see how much you are loved. And to love others the way God loves them. Not as we see them. I will try and cling onto that notion today. How about you?

And PS: I cannot for the life of me, despite my college education, decide whether or not "earth" should be in caps or no caps....

A Forward Now A Post....Invisible

I received this sweet story in an e-mail about two weeks ago from a friend and then again from my future sister-in-law today. I thought it was worth posting (seeing as I am not really in the writing mood these days). As a mother of a toddler who cannot clearly define what I "accomplish" each day, this really hit home and encouraged me...

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response,the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"

Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there,looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress;it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it t." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel,not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Great Job, MOM

Prayers Needed

I've run across this family's blog: http://www.conorbootheandgirls.blogspot.com/

Please click on the link, read about their sweet family and precious newborn, Copeland. She will most likely be going home to Heaven soon. While I do not know them, my heart and spirit have been burdened for them over the past few days. Please join me in praying for them.

A Sign of Things to Come?

This afternoon, as I was on the ump-teenth trip into Garrett's room during his supposed nap time to answer his sweetness' requests, I was delighted to hear this request:

G: Mommy, my diap-uh hoits me. I need to take this diap-uh off, Mommy.

M: Okay, we can take your diaper off but what will you wear instead?

G: I will not wu-eh anything, Mommy. I will go sit on my potty and let the tee-tees and poo-poos come out.

So, as fast as I could, I tore that thing off and let him lead the way. Garrett actually SAT on the potty. Now, some of you may be thinking "big deal". Let me just stop you right there in your thought process. This is HUGE for our little man because he has NEVER wanted to sit on the potty or even stand near it for the purpose of putting anything in it. And NEVER has he led me to the potty himself. Back in the Great Potty Training Expedition of this Spring I always had to bribe him or convince him to at least sit on the throne.

But not today. Today, he sat on the potty and chatted about all of the things that might happen while sitting there. One might think that I was disappointed that the little man produced nothing, but that fool would be mistaken. I was so ecstatic with Garrett prompting me to go and sit on the potty. Never mind the fact that it all could have been a ploy to get himself out of nap time. Who cares? Not this momma!

I am going to be cautiously optimistic that there is a future full of potties and big boy underwear!! And I am going to pray that it will all happen and be done with by the end of this year. Seriously. Either I am over-aiming or under-shooting. I am not really sure what to do next other than encourage him and continue to allow him to take the lead. Any other ideas??