Thursday, September 27, 2012

The One That Gives You Pie

Last Sabbath we had a church full of littles.

21 of 'em, in fact.

That's awesome, right?

21 children in the church and all but two under the age of 10.

4 two-year-olds.

And see, here's the catch. There were only 24 adults to go with that wonderful cacophony of BABIES!

Oh, but it was wonderful. We loved it. And the rest of the church loved it too. I can only praise God that our church family loves our babies and WANTS our babies there.

We loved it so much we invited 9 of those kids (and their parents) to come play with our 4 for the rest of the afternoon! Lots of fellowship and the occasional shenanigans ensued, making it a very blessed Sabbath indeed!

Colby sent them on a treasure hunt to the barn where he had hidden an old "treasure chest" under the floor boards of the old '56 Ford. It was a riot watching them all running here and there and searching the dark recesses of cobwebbed corners. They debated the reading of the map so many times they couldn't remember who was doing what where.

When they'd finally found it they immediately set forth to return the favor and hid some "treasure" for Colby to find.

Just a bunch of country kids traipsing through imaginary rainforests, hauling trunks full of treasure from their shipwrecked galleon, burying it 20 paces from the north-facing rock that looks like a monkey's face. Good times! Great memories.

Growing up, my own fun memories usually involve my brothers and my cousins. But I also have some wonderful memories of adventures with the church family youngsters. What a blessing it is to have friends for my kids that have the same values, principles, and hopes! It's the memories of these times that bond those kids together and give them a sense of belonging within loving friendships when they're questioning what place is theirs in this life.

So anyway, a few months ago, at a potluck, I was standing with my oldest daughter at the dessert table, waiting to help her scoop up some pie. Unfortunately for her, by the time she was next in line, there was only one piece left. The young man in front of her scooped it up on the spoon and my daughter turned to me with big eyes and whispered, "Oh, I was hoping to have a piece of that pie!"

The young man (10 years old) overheard and immediately turned and plunked that scoop of pie right on Emmy's plate. No hesitation. No regret. No selfishness.

I just about burst into tears.

Emmy's my girl that's a wild card. She's going to want to drive a fast car, or WORSE... ride around with a boy in a fast car. She's the one that keeps me up at night, worrying about what life when she's 17 is going to do to me.

All I could think in that moment was,

"Marry the one that gives you his pie, Emmy-girl. Marry the one that gives you his pie!"

Thursday, September 13, 2012


So there I was, at the end of Day 2 of a 10 day Juice Fast. My day had been spent praying for the headache to go away and trying to get kids to read quietly for, oh, about 2 hours longer than they normally do.

Dinner is, of course, a lovely time of day when you're juicing, but I made it through. Colby had a church board meeting, so I fixed him a plate, cleaned everything up, and started running a bath for Evelyn while the big kids ran outside to play.

Ahh... a peaceful moment to sit while the baby played in the water. I couldn't wait till Colby was home, all I wanted to do was go to bed and SLEEP! Turning the faucet off before the water got too deep, I sat back and rubbed my throbbing temples.

And then I heard the screaming.

Not one kid screaming.

Not two kids screaming.

No, that was the sound of all THREE kids screaming bloody murder.

Before I could get the baby out of the tub to go investigate, they all streamed into the house and made a beeline for me in the bathroom....with Elayna looking as if she'd just been the main character in a horror film.



So much blood. Streaming down her face, down her neck, covering the front of her shirt.

Blood was matted in her hair in an enormous patch on the top and side of her head.

I grabbed her up and sat down on the lid of the toilet and reached for a towel - but there were none on the shelf! (What was I planning to do about a baby in the bathtub with no towel, anyway? Who knows!)

I couldn't LEAVE the bathroom to find a towel, mind you, because there was still a toddler IN THE BATHTUB.

"Okay, Joshua, I need to you please quickly get me a towel!"

"There ARE no towels, Mom!"

"A kitchen towel, then! QUICKLY!"

Right about then Emmy started shrieking, "I don't LIKE this!!!!!"

....and ran out the front door.

To go who knows where.

Joshua brought me a towel and I applied pressure to Elayna's head while trying to decide whether NOW was the time to call 911. And in that moment I had no idea where my phone was. I sent Joshua to track it down for me.

He brought it to me quickly and I sent him off again to find me a towel for the baby.

I called Colby, and the conversation sounded something like this:


"Yeah, what's wrong?"


And then the phone went dead. Apparently that's what happens when a worried Daddy stomps the accelerator down while driving on a road where you get sketchy service at best.

Okay. He'd be home in about 5 minutes and what relief knowing that brought me! I ventured a peak at Elayna's head and was immensely glad to see that the blood had stopped running freely!

I set her down and told her to keep the towel on her head while I got the baby out of the tub. I quickly dried Evelyn off and asked Joshua to bring me a pull-up. He brought me the whole package. I remember trying to sound calm and cheery as I said to him, "Thank you! I don't need the whole package, just one! Can you put the rest of these back for me?"

He looked at me like I was Nutso.

How could I blame him? Less than a minute before I was yelling into the phone like the panic crazed woman that I was!

I sat back down with Elayna and held the towel again.

Evelyn was wandering in and out of the bathroom, trying to see what was going on, trying to play in the bathwater that wasn't draining quickly enough, and exploring the contents of the cabinet while I talked with Elayna and Joshua about what had happened.

And then I look up at Evelyn as she walks out the bathroom door with her potty seat ON HER HEAD.

Oh. My. Word.

Can't we just SLOW the CIRCUS TRAIN down here, kids?! PLEASE?!

"Joshua, get it off of her head!!!"

"But it's funny!"

"GAHHHHHH!!!! It's not funny, please just get it OFF of her!"


I was torn between asking Joshua to take Evelyn out to the living room to keep her occupied and sending him outdoors to find Emmy. In fact, I'm fairly certain I asked him to do both. At the same time.

And somehow he did. I'm not sure how, but he did both for me, and did them, like he'd done everything else that night, without complaint, without question, and extremely well. He was my little rock, and I'm so glad I had him there to help me. Somewhere in that short space of time he got clorox wipes and cleaned up all of the blood that was everywhere from the door to the puddle in the bathroom, too.

Colby came home, and we began to really assess Elayna's head wound. The bleeding had, indeed, stopped, but getting a good look at the wound itself was next to impossible - the blood had matted her hair to her head like glue. Colby started with a wash cloth and washed her face, neck, and arms, then worked a little at the edges of the matted hair. Elayna wanted to see. So she stood up on my legs and watched in the mirror. And then she took the wash cloth and started scrubbing at her hair like nobody's business.

And that's when we knew she was going to be fine. Poor little girlie. This pic was after she'd been cleaned up quite a bit.

I sat her in the tub and rinsed her head with clean water until the matted hair was all loose and clean. The wound itself? MAYBE 1/4" long gash. Fully clotted, not open at all, and would not require stitches or even glue.

We didn't even put any sort of band-aid on it.

Praise God!!

Just when I was used to the poop stage, I guess it's time to get used to the blood stage. Unfortunately, I think this one lasts longer, especially when we live in the country, where horses, four-wheelers, tractors, and mud trucks are not just tools and toys, they're a way of life!


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