Sunscreen Guide 2010

Important ingredients to avoid include Vitamin A (accelerates cancerous tumor growth) and oxybenzone (disrupts hormones).

Here is the best guide for 2010.  Click on the highlighted phrase "tells you what you need to know" once you get to the website.

feeling the moment

Baby Beth's breathing steadies, finally, at 6:30 p.m.

My sweet Mary, filled with The Three Little Pigs, Goldilocks And The Three Bears, and prayer with snuggles, sees Momma blow her last kiss goodnight, around eight.

Two down, two to go.

Though tired, I gladly pull Dr. Dolittle: A Treasury off our library shelf and take it to the playroom.

Paul, his face lit up, stops his Lego project and jumps to the couch.  "Time for Dr. Dolittle!" he quips.

Peter takes his place on my other side.

Thank goodness for nursings and storytimes, giving mommas everywhere proper times for pause.

Dr. Dolittle and his extraordinary animal family quickly hook us.

"Dr. Dolittle is very kind", offers my Paul, three chapters into tonight's adventures.  "He puts everyone above himself."

"Yes, I agree.  I suspect that the author, Hugh Lofting, might be a Christian."

"Can you believe the kinds of stories people think up?  These are amazing!", Paul adds.

Yes, indeed.  I come to the same conclusion nightly.  Just wow.

The magic of the moment captures me tonight.  Powerfully.

My two boys, shoulder to shoulder with me.  Night after night.  Our bonds strengthening through stories shared.

I stop the flow of words to kiss each cheek.

"I love you, boys.  Besides my nursing times, I find reading to you the most wonderful part of my days.

"You do?", wonders Peter.

"Yes.  Momma feels so close to you.  So in love with her boys."

"Thank you", Peter says, feeling the moment.

"Let's get back to the story now", Paul suggests.

"Okay, Paul.  We'll do that", I say, amused at the differences in my boys' personalities.

One, so sentimental and careful.  The other, so enthusiastic and expressive.

How I love them, Lord!

toddler love language

"Eye", she says, poking mine with her confident, tiny finger.  Sleep, so needed, hasn't come these twenty minutes.

"Bow", she adds, stroking my eye brow, and then her own.

"Yes!  Very good.  Where are my eyelashes?"

"Der", she tells me, poking my eye again as she finds my lashes.

Giggling now, her nose meets my own. Eskimo kiss.

Taken in by her charm, I plant kisses on her tiny nose, on her criminally-soft cheeks, her Dove-soaped neck.

More giggles.

"I love you, Beth."

"Iyo u", she counters slowly, concentrating.  Then a smile.

A smacking noise escapes her, and leaning in she meets my lips hard.

"Thank you, Beth", I whisper.

Remembering the time, and the others waiting for their stories, I put my arm under Beth's head, pulling her into the breast once again.

Since her eighth month, all nursings have been in the queen bed we share.  She's too distracted to nurse in the common areas.

Daddy agrees with all the benefits of co-sleeping, but he doesn't like to worry about suffocating our babies with his covers.  And truth be told, he's a perfect grouch when woken in the night, even by a feverish child.  A second-shift, over-tired worker these five years, he's resigned himself to the arrangement.  He can't wait for our babies to grow into potty-taught preschoolers; I dread the day my last one does.  I love preschoolers, yes.  But never to mother a baby again?  That hurts fierce like.  Husband knows.  He is glad for my baby passion, for his children's sake.

For my part, while I miss him there, I know we'll share a bed for the rest of our days.  But my nursing babies?  A tiny fraction of my life is spent with them.  Too tiny.  Savor it I must.  Babies capture me, hold me hostage with their charms, whether they're mine or not.  It's always been that way.  No sacrifice to live in the moment with them.

Older when I became a mom, I know something of the passage of time.  The clock's slow ticking deceives.  Aged mothers savor.

She nurses a few minutes, stops.  Gets to standing position, jumps next to the wall, giggling.

"Wa" she says, touching the wall--looking at me for approval.

"Yes.  That's the wall.  It's time to go sleepy, Beth", I say, getting her back into position.

She wriggles away.  Fusses.  Tosses.  I hold her down gently, kissing her and singing softly.

Mad, she attempts to bite my arm.  Then thinks twice.  Stops.  Cries and wrestles.

I pull her into the breast once more.

She succumbs.  Nursing slowly.

Several minutes pass.  Eyes close briefly, then open.  She fights sleep.

Relaxation, brought on by hormones released in her body and mine, quiets us both.  I fight the closing of my own eyes.

Steady nursing gives way to intermittent flutters.  Eyes stay closed now.

"I love you, Beth", I whisper.

She sighs, hearing me.  Body relaxing further.

Seven o'clock light filling the room, I take in her beauty.  Eyelashes long, resting on milky skin.  Soft hair, light brown, frames her.  Natural curls lining the back.

She's perfect.  I'm awed.  Filled with gratitude.

I pray.  For her God love, her safety, her purity, her fertility, her husband, her in-laws, for a servant's heart in her.

Disengaging the breast, I slowly stole away, leaving the bed.

I stand by the door, briefly, to check for stirring.

Her breathing is steady, slow.  Sleep is her friend, for now.

I exit.

Fulfilled.

counting them again--and a prayer

A short list of blessings.  Tired tonight.

- Blueberry picking today with homeschool friends.

- Mary telling me so sweetly, "I really like picking berries with you, Mommy."

- Beth's passion for all things berry.  She was either eating them from our picking containers while being carried, or wriggling out of our arms to eat some from the bushes. All told, we picked twenty dollars worth.  I guess the farmer still made out.  Beth sure livened and lightened things up.

- Husband and wife cleaving to one another more than ever, in response to our circumstances.

- My boys--again in response to our circumstances--learning to pray in earnest.  Husband went on an interview recently.  A decision will be made soon, so much prayer happening here.

- Baby Beth naming body parts and flirting with me instead of falling to sleep.  Frustrating, but a blessing nonetheless, to have special time with her.  I read that at eighteen months they begin to resist sleeping.

_____________________
This next matter is not a blessing--just something I'm trying to figure out.  I'm horrified sometimes at the difference between how I feel on the inside, and what I project on the outside.  I adore being a mom and wouldn't change anything.  And yet, I yell.  Not all day, certainly.  But enough that I feel frustrated and sorrowful.  I want to be a pleasant aroma, projecting all my positive mom feelings onto my family.  But I'm soooo busy!   Just getting a drink of water sometimes is a challenge.  I apparently need to put tape over my mouth to remind me to be slow to speak.  Otherwise, I don't know how to keep my spirit quiet.

Repeating myself wears on me.

"You forgot to put your pajamas in the hamper."  Five minutes later.  "Your pajamas are still not in the hamper."

"Who forgot to flush the toilet?"

"I can't get that drink yet...still hanging clothes from the dryer."  Three minutes later.  "I'll get the drink in just a minute. I still have some things to hang."  Five minutes later.  Yelling now, "I said wait!  You're being rude.   They'll get wrinkled if I don't finish; it's an energy waste to keep fluffing them."

Having an ADHD child around means there's often no breathing room.  He follows me to the bathroom even, to either ask for something or tell me something.  ADHD children have an insatiable desire for adult attention.  I've taken to locking the bathroom door.

Anyhow, my job is to love them, point them to Jesus, and help them develop independence and confidence.  For their part, the goal is remaining well cared for ( primarily the boys).  Surely they must suffer from this wishful-thinking point of view: "Getting my own drink is not nearly as fulfilling as being served."

My daughter is much different in this regard, by the way.  She craves togetherness, but also independence in everyday living matters.

I need to revamp the chore list, obviously, and stay on schedule myself somehow, to keep those boys on track.

Lord, thank you for making me a mom.  I love you, and I love being a mom.   Help me have a gentle and quiet spirit, no matter how many times I encounter an unflushed toilet.  May they know how much I love them, despite my frustrated demeanor.  Flood them with grace for their imperfect Mommy.  And flood me with grace for their childish ways.  We're in the same boat....needing you for everything...for every success.  If I must remain so flawed, please use my flaws to point them to you.


In your precious name, Amen.


Please pray for Shannon today, from the Exploring Holland blog.  She is feeling isolated, on top of everything else.

he who seeks finds

I escaped today.  Can you believe it?

No, I didn't get a pedicure.  Or a manicure.  Or a chocolate malt.  Or a haircut.  Or use that Olive Garden giftcard (the one my sister gave us for Christmas).

It was better than that!

I went thrifting!

Mary's new/used twin bed required bedding--just something to last until she is sharing a room with her sister, at which time they will hopefully get matching bedding.

No bedspreads or comforters were available.  A pink and blue crocheted quilt will have to do.  It's not especially nice looking for a little girl, but we can use it later for cuddling on the couch.

The trip was not a disappointment, by any stretch.

'Cause guess what I found?  I was so excited about it I could hardly remember to make full stops--and heed red lights--on my way home.

I'm not the only parent who gets excited about blessing my children with good gifts, am I?

Matthew 7:7-11 "Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.
 For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.
 Or what man is there among you who, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone?
Or if he asks for a fish, will he give him a serpent?  If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!

A gift!  For my newly potty-taught preschooler--proud owner of size 4T Dora panties.

$8.00 in good used condition.  I perused several garage sales this spring, to no avail.  I didn't question that God would provide.  I just hoped it would be before winter set in!

Just in time for her big-girl debut, the bike appeared at my local Goodwill.  And on the same day, my mother happened to have sent a little money.  Her kind gift money will be put away for our county fair visit later this summer, but I couldn't resist spending some on this bike.  

John 21:6  And he said unto them, Cast the net on the right side of the ship, and ye shall find. They cast therefore, and now they were not able to draw it for the multitude of fishes.


2 Corinthians 9:8  And God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work:


Philippians 4:19  But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus

Romans 8:28   And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.

And this is Peter's Monarch--a gift from the caterpillar found at the ice cream stand a couple weeks ago.  He enjoyed it for a few hours, and then let it go.  My boy is growing up!