Big Things, Part Two

Last week I decided it was time to celebrate and give thanks for the Big Things  God has done in my life.

Here is part two:

I needed a change after teaching first grade for nine years in a difficult area. My last year in the regular classroom was the year I lost my first baby, Isaac.  It happened right before Thanksgiving.  Neither doctors nor a geneticist could give me an idea why a baby who looked healthy and active on an ultrasound at seventeen weeks, would end up passing away by week twenty-one.   I thought it might be stress.  Unlikely, of course, but certain stages of grief make you desperate for answers.

I grew to hate my job that year, but living on my husband's income was impossible; I had to work.  There were student loans and other things weighing us down.

A colleague of mine became a principal for a small, science and technology charter school, which at the time provided enrichment and core classes for homeschoolers, and fulfilled State requirements for monthly, credentialed-teacher homeschooling meetings.  You can file an affidavit in California to homeschool on your own, but not all families are interested in that kind of isolation; many wanted the free curriculum, free classes, and free guidance, provided by umbrella organizations such as this charter school.

In late spring I applied for an open position at this science and technology school--not feeling positive about getting it.  My expertise, if you will, was reading and language. Although I loved teaching science to first graders, I was no lab coat and beaker kind of gal.  Plus, I hated computers and technology.

I still abhor technology, actually.  For example, my cell phone has texting capability, but I haven't a clue how to do it.  And the other day I accidentally pushed some button that brought up the World Wide Web on my cell phone.  What!?  What is the Web doing on my cell phone?  Is that some service I have to pay extra for, I wondered at the time.  (Husband, who also doesn't text or use the Web, tells me it's standard for cell phones now).

Back to that job....

Between the time I completed the lengthy application and got called for an interview, I found out I was pregnant with Peter--which was another answer to prayer!  I told my colleague-turned-principal about the pregnancy during the interview, even though I thought a pregnancy would disqualify me (not legally, of course).

Also weighing heavy on my mind was this:  I just wanted to be a Mom!  The thought of giving my baby to a daycare provider made me sick to my stomach, literally.  For so many years, teaching was my passion.  I spent hours and hours in my classroom--nights and weekends.  My job defined me.....until I became a Christian at age 31.  But even then, I never thought I'd leave the profession.


God had other plans for me.

My last two years in the regular classroom brought serious behavior problems--leaving me no time to teach or enjoy the kids.  I went home emotionally drained every night.

Hope was not mine....

Until I got the job!  Instead of leaving the classroom kicking and screaming, I sprinted my way out.  Phew!

When God wants you out of something you love, He makes it very clear. You'll find yourself more and more uncomfortable.  Peace leaves.....hope leaves....until you make the change God desires--either in your heart, or in your circumstances, or both.

My new boss probably regretted her decision, at least in part.  I had a difficult pregnancy, with a scary ultrasound at 21 weeks, monthly and then weekly ultrasounds, and preterm labor, which dilated me two inches at week 30.  I was put on bedrest for the last eight weeks, with Peter safely in my arms at 38 weeks gestation, after my water spontaneously broke at home, two hours after an OB check-up.

Long, long road.  I thought I'd never have a babe in my arms!

Those battling infertility have a much harder, longer road.  Few things compare to that pain, in my view.

Before my bedrest, my boss said yes to some very crucial questions. Questions I dreaded asking.

It felt like my peace as a mother....as a women, hung on the answers to these questions.  God gave me the ideas, and the words.

- Can I drop some classes and some families and work part-time?

- Can I bring my baby to work?

- Can I work at home, except for my two remaining K-1 reading classes (1 hour each), and my sixth grade social studies class (90 minutes), and my monthly family meetings (twenty individual meetings, half-hour each)?

Yes, yes, and yes!

God provided!

It was a difficult schedule, but I had full care of my sweet babe.  I had peace--even though he was constantly filling his diaper when it was time to leave for school!  :)

It all seemed like a miracle.  God worked out every intricate detail.

A college student--a daughter of one of my homeschooling families--starting coming to my house to watch Peter for three hours, two days a week, once he was too squirrelly to go to work with Momma.  She was lively, sweet, and wonderful!

Husband, at that time, worked four, ten hour days, so he was off all day alternate Fridays, which helped a lot.  He brought Peter to campus for nursing time, in between my monthly family meetings.  I did most of those  monthly meetings during the two Fridays he watched Peter.

God can change things very fast.  Job loss...pregnancy loss...answered prayer....dreams coming true.  All of it is His timing.  His purpose.

Ultimately, we learn not to trust in our plans.  In our hopes.  


We learn to trust in Him.

To be continued...

painting joy

The weather outside is frightful.

 But inside?

 Well, it's delightful.

My girls, my beautiful girls,

paint their dreams,

and teach me....

to love wildly, hope deeply, and live fully.

Is there anything more precious than a child's painting, coloring your walls, your heart, with joy?

precious storybook for nighttime fears

I go through about 15 picture books a week for bedtime story time for my little girls, ages 2 and 4.  We read at least three per night--usually rereading our favorites several times.  I'd rather read ten a night, but our evenings are spent with Momma as the sole parent--meaning reasonable bedtimes depend on my restraint at story time, as much as on their cooperation with hygiene tasks.

Some of you are with me on this: The dinner and nighttime details involved in caring for young children are time consuming and exhausting.  Only by God's grace has story time--something I consider foundational--survived at all.

My boys, ages 7 and 9,  listen in, too, at picture book time, but they also have their own story time after the girls go to sleep.

Of the fifteen books, we generally find two to three real keepers.  Tonight we read Teddy Bear Tears, by Jim Aylesworth, 1997, which I'll review tonight.

I can always tell when the book will be a favorite.

All the wiggles stop.

The room quiets except for my story voice.

All eyes and minds are in the book, as though we've traveled to the setting. (Don't imagine my two year old staying in my lap, mind you--seven minutes tops!)

About halfway through, one of the boys will declare in a knowing, literary-lovin' voice, "This book is really good!"

When the last page is turned, and we realize we've reached the end, Mary can't take it.

"Read it again, Mommy!"


I will never tire of reading picture books to children.  When I'm far older and white-haired, I'll beg to read daily to my own grandchildren, or even to children at the local library.

Teddy Bear Tears, tonight's favorite, is about a little boy with four teddy bears.

"The little boy loved them all very much, and every night they slept together in a big, cozy bed.  

And some nights, there were tears."

Each teddy bear starts crying, in turn, about some nighttime fear.  The boy listens attentively, and then he turns on the light, patiently showing the scared teddy that there's only dust and puzzles pieces under the bed, or that there's only moonlight, moths, and wind outside.

"Don't be scared," said the little boy, getting out of bed and carrying Willie Bear to the window.  "See how pretty it is out there in the moonlight?  See how the stars shine and how the wind moves the trees?"  

Willie Bear nodded.  

"Well, that wind makes noise, but it's nothing to be scared of.  And sometimes there's a cat out poking around, or maybe a moth bumping against the screen.  They make noises, too, but there's nothing out there that would hurt a little bear."

The bears' fears, of course, are really the boy's fears.  He soothes himself as he comforts his beloved bears.

Finally, after the last bear has been soothed and tucked close to the boy, they bid each other good night, and the boy falls fast asleep.

"He tucked Willie Bear up real close on one side and Fuzzy up real close on the other side. Ringo and Little Sam he put up on top.  Then he put his arms around them all.

"Good night, you guys," said the little boy.  "I love you."  

"We love you, too," said the bears.

And then, after only a moment more, the boy was sound asleep....and dreaming very pleasant dreams.

What did I tell you?  A real keeper, huh?  We loved it!

Enjoy!  And have a nice weekend!

my sticky life with a toddler

If your two year old isn't driving you crazy, she probably isn't learning as much as she could be.

We all need the reminder to just let them play--mess and all!

Toddlers and preschoolers learn a whole lot through:

- exploratory play (even from getting into things, or from trying on pieces of that laundry you just folded  :))

- interactive language exposure (Play that involves make-believe is great for language development, such as playing with a kitchen, dolls, a mailbox, train tracks, etc. ; TV doesn't count for language development, since it isn't a back and forth verbal exchange.)

- music exposure

- movement experiences (Hokey Pokey, Ring Around the Rosy, and other simple dances, jumping, twirling, hopping...)

Lately, glue, glue sticks, and scissors have been my two-year-old's obsession.  After a month of cleaning glue off of multiple surfaces, and stressing about her finding the scissors while I was out of commission (going potty, that is), I finally got smart.  I cut up diaper boxes to put under her while she glued to her heart's content, and I bought preschool scissors with a covered tip and limited movement (Walmart--I hadn't seen this type before).

It drives my husband crazy that I don't try to micromanage art and craft time around here.  I facilitate by getting out materials and giving an idea or two, and then I watch from afar. Husband sits with them and tries to make their creative time productive--meaning he wants them to create something display-worthy.

As usual in parenting, children benefit from both approaches.

Anyhow, with my two year old, I couldn't seem to drive home the point that glue is for sticking two things together.  She just kept using it as though it were a decoration in itself--kind of like her view on chapstick.  :)

I decided it was time to do a little micromanaging, at least with the glue; I cut simple shapes and taught her how to put glue on them and slap them onto the paper.  Like any toddler, she really liked the SLAP part.

That activity lasted all of six minutes.  In what might be another smart move, I didn't actually put her materials away.  Instead, I set them all on the cardboard, knowing she'll be interested again in about twenty minutes.

When I get through the twos and threes--for the fourth time--I'll add to my resume:

Raised four toddlers--and lived to write about it!

post referrals - Albert Mohler

Recent good articles from AlbertMohler.com:

Chilling Beyond Belief 

"Now it is the Other Way Around" -- The Moral Revolution in Full View

Intellectual Discipleship--Following Christ With Our Minds