A Hamster Teaches Life

Today I wonder, when life hands you a Plan B, how do you step up and shine anyway? How do you gracefully dance to another tune, though it wasn't the one you wanted?

Two months ago the water bottle attached to the hamster's cage leaked. Husband bought another and I recommended the children immediately change the cage.

"We will...right after we finish this game," they answered.

Jack, our hamster, at that time perfectly healthy, didn't occupy their minds as much as Lexi, their neighborhood friend.

Previously...Jack? Peter cuddled with him, gave thanks for him, loved him, showered him with attention. But then came Lexi, interesting, animated, fun. Poor Jack drifted into the background of Peter's heart.

The board game, finished, went back on the shelf, Jack forgotten. And my mind, occupied with the present care of children and home, went on to the next thing, Jack's cage forgotten.

At regular cage cleaning time two days later, the children discovered mold clinging to one of the cage toys. How long had it been there? How long had that water bottled leaked? How could the children fail to notice such mold, for surely it hadn't developed in two days time?



Not long after, Jack aged before our eyes, laboring to breathe, slowing his daily activities. His furry chest made heartwrenching motions as his breathing faltered.

Oh...how we mourned, husband and me, especially after research taught us that Jack probably suffered from a respiratory illness, possibly brought on by moldy bedding.

It hit us. The leaky water bottle! We hadn't caught it in time, and the boys hadn't listened to my warning to immediately change the cage, as they attached a new bottle.

We are the adults here, ultimately responsible for every pet brought home. We can train, admonish, but as the only adults, the outcome depends on God and our responsible supervision.

We failed.

A few days later, Jack took his last breaths, my husband holding and comforting him in the last moments. Peter just couldn't do it. Jack became part of our family in December 2010, gracing us with a lot of sweet, even funny, memories.

Though he seemed in mourning, Peter wanted a new hamster within twenty-four hours. He'd never liked Jack's color and he looked forward to picking out his very own hamster...not one chosen by his brother Paul, who subsequently decided hamsters weren't his thing.

But that Jack? He was the picture of gentleness, never biting, and Peter easily put the black color and rodenty face into perspective, declaring love within the first week Jack dwelled here. I tell you that hamster seemed to purr like a cat when handled, especially while sleepy. For our family he was the perfect pet.

Fast forward two months, an acceptable time to mourn Jack and learn our lessons. Wanting to extend the same grace our Lord extended to us, we agreed another hamster could share our home, so long as the care remained exemplary and voluntary on Peter's part.

A two-month's wait proved long and in his typical ADHD way, Peter obsessed for days, knowing his mourning sentence drew to a close soon. He searched Internet hamster photos, read up on care and caging, talked incessantly of the upcoming day.

When at exactly two months there were too many appointments to make a pet store stop 30 minutes away, he got ugly, following me around the house, pushing, in typical ADHD fashion. If you ever find yourself feeling unduly pushed by someone who can't seem to fixate their mind on anything but what they want, you may have an ADHD brain in your midst.

No, they don't mean to drive you into despair and frustration. Usually. Yes, they might feel guilty about your stress, though still not stopping. The impulse control to stop their obsessing is absent from their brains and even kids who are medicated only improve in hyperactivity, usually--not in impulse control. This self-control lack in the brain is the hardest thing to treat. There are advantages to this state of mind, just not interpersonal ones.

And the truth is, they're driven crazy as well by their desires, exhibiting stress signs and other physical symptoms, such as taking in too little food and water and sleeping poorly while their brain obsesses. It's a heartbreaking cycle--the more tired and stressed they are, they more their brain obsesses and the more you feel like you're trapped in a nightmare.

Last Sunday after church, with the neighbor kids going back to school and Peter needing a distraction to prevent him from bugging his siblings incessantly, Daddy and Peter ventured to the pet shop, bringing home an orangy brown hamster with a face not quite so rodenty and eyes nicer than all the others in the shop.

As hamster began settling in its new cage, moving the bedding around just so, Mommy and Daddy went about preparing for our beach trip. Our son was instructed not to pick up the hamster the first day. We already noticed it didn't exhibit Jack's gentleness. A bite on the hand was likely if we didn't give hamster a day or two to acclimate.



But this is Peter we're talking about, who unfortunately doesn't learn from his mistakes...namely, that obeying your parents in the Lord helps things go well for you.

He picked the new hamster up, bringing him onto the carpet for some Jack-style cuddling. I caught him, telling him to immediately put it back.

Twenty minutes later husband peaked at the little guy in the cage, right before we headed out to the beach, saying goodbye in an affectionate way, though he isn't especially fond of little furry things, after being bitten badly by a gerbil two years ago.

Noticing a funny gait, he brought the hamster out, putting him on the carpet to inspect his walk.

Immediately we noticed both back legs dragging around, though it moved at a quick pace and didn't appear to be in pain or notice the handicap. Having seen the hamster perfectly healthy in the store, husband fell to the carpet in grief and frustration, asking God how this could happen to us, scarcely an hour after purchase.

I shared in his moaning and disbelief.

Peter, also upset at the sight, told us he'd dropped hammy from a short height but it seemed fine when it scurried away. Apparently it nipped at Peter, shocking him and causing him to drop the hamster from a 15-inch height onto the carpet. Normally, a fall from a height like this does no damage. Hamsters crawl to the top of their cages and fall down all the time, and this hamster was not a baby...probably 3-6 months old with an adult body.

Peter mentioned he'd seen it go down backwards in the cage tube, and maybe the feet had gotten stuck?

Swearing the hamster appeared paraplegic, husband wondered sadly at God's will. And we were both frustrated at Peter's disobedience, offering no further grace should this hamster die. No more fragile pets.

Like so many things in our lives, Plan B stared us in the face with this hamster's injury. Hamsters can live in this state, apparently happy, unless they begin chewing their back limbs off from nerve pain. Antibiotics might become necessary for possible urinary tract infections and self-inflicted wound care.

Not what we all had in mind, when Peter ecstatically brought home a new furry love.

It might recover, just as humans sometimes do from paralysis. We're praying and God will decide.

And if Plan B remains? What then?

Peter is faced with a parenting reality much like my own. A situation he never would have chosen.

Having an ADHD child after an affected student in 1999 basically retired me from teaching? So not in my plan. That student was so difficult, my heart feared having another one like him.

I'm done with public-school teaching, I told my husband in 2001. I could never endure more of that stress.

And yet God gave me just that. A child for whom I have endless love, but one who makes my life a daily gospel. Sometimes I lay my life down and accept it in love. Other times I want to get in the car and drive 5000 miles away, alone.

This Plan B life I lead with Peter renders me a vastly imperfect parent.

I'd waited so long for marriage and children and I wanted to be a good parent. An exemplary one. By handicapping all of our nervous systems, driving them beyond their design most days, Peter's brain changes the quality of daily life here, through no fault of his own. It doesn't take long for guests to notice his differences and rarely does anyone stay more than a few hours, though Peter is loved by all. All would agree his heart is soft and golden.

Who better qualified than me, to guide Peter in how to love this imperfect hamster?  Right?

But I falter and fail in this job, apologizing often, asking Him for mercy daily.

How do I guide my son, then, on the road to "parenting" success? What bullet list of tips can I give?

Just this:

1. God
2. God
3. God
4  God

Lean on Him
Talk to Him
Ask Him
Let Him

Plan B? It was the right one in the first place. Right for God and his Glory.

The best plan we can have? Stay in the back seat.










Go forward in thankfulness, my son, with Him leading.

Let your heart soar in praise and worship of the Almighty Living God, your Father and Redeemer, not because the plan looks like what you wanted, but because the plan ends with Eternity. 

~ Practice obedience over and over.

~ Confess when you take a selfish detour.

~ Live a life poured out.

~ Set your gaze on Heaven.

~ Give thanks.

And when all else fails, just sit and cuddle with the little guy, watching the clouds sail by.

God photo credit

Multitude Monday, 8-27

Multitude Monday

Hebrews 12:28

Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe,

Dear Lord, thank you for these gifts:

~ That even in the midst of sorrow, there are blessings to count, like little girls in pigtails in the scorching heat at the country fair. And I give thanks for the eight consecutive years we've been to this fair--years that passed far too fast--at which I've been pregnant twice, held babies in a sling twice, watched three little ones take their first ride, and introduced four children to the wonder of cotton candy. And finally, watched an enthusiastic husband dine on fair food with all the joy of Templeton the rat, one of Wilbur's saviors.

  ~ That ten-year-old Peter allows me to comfort him. He loves the animals and the food, but the crowd? It makes him exceedingly anxious. He worries that one of the children will get lost. He holds their hands fiercely tight and makes sure everyone has a buddy. My heart aches for him in his anxiety, but I rejoice that I have prayer power and the ability to comfort him.

~ For pigs. Enough said. We love them!

~ For Paul's joy on the bumper cars...the first year he was tall enough.

~ For a little girl thrilled at her guaranteed win. We now have an inflatable dolphin loved by all, despite its pink color.

~ For the faces God put on all his animals. The faces intrigue me most.

~ Even those only a mother could love.

~ For spouses to cuddle next to, who comfort us in our sorrow and share our joys.

~ For the wonder of lizards.

~ For the quietness and gentleness of bunnies.

~ Kids who giggle at the lake, loving every second of the experience.

~ For a little girl finally gaining a pound or two. I had to buy her a 4T top and a matching bottom in size 18 months. She's tiny but getting her muscle tone and healthy fat back
.

~ For siblings to share the joys with. They teach us how to live in harmony with a spouse some day, and for that I'm forever grateful.

~ For a little girl who will finally bend her knees outside of the therapy gym. She is getting better, praise God. We pray that fall, winter, and early spring don't bring back the pain, weight loss, or muscle atrophy.

~ For the many grand cloud formations at yesterday's lake trip.

~ For the light and the One who created it and recreates it in us.

~ For the comfort of Bible verses. They speak love and strength and guidance into our frail hearts. What a gift to hide them in our hearts and be able to retrieve just the right one at the right time.

~ For a very sweet letter from our Divya from India.

Romans 15:4
For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.

2 Timothy 3:16

All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness,

Deuteronomy 29:29

The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may follow all the words of this law.

2 Peter 1:20

Above all, you must understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet's own interpretation.

What are you thankful for today, my friend?

Linking with Ann today and other thankful ladies. What a gift!

Mourn With Those Who Mourn: What Does It Mean?

When my babies died in my womb, when my husband lost his job, I walked around in a mourning-daze, unable to concentrate or sleep. I cracked eggs and absentmindedly put them down the sink instead of in bowls. I drove past my exit on the freeway and went to the store for a certain thing, only to come home without it. When I didn't have a duty to perform, I sat and stared at walls.

I couldn't smile or read and I prayed in words or groans, not sentences.

Last Thursday something emotionally devastating happened to someone whom I know very well. I'm in that mourning daze once again, though this time the tragedy isn't mine.

I asked myself 48 hours in, am I over identifying with this? Is that the problem? Am I failing to trust that God will redeem it and raise up the oppressed? Do I lack faith?

Certain scriptures came to me then, on the third day. Next, a modicum of peace arrived, not taking away the despair, but lessening it. This peace came quite suddenly, as though someone had prayed and God heard and he washed His spirit over me.

What does it mean to mourn with those who mourn? Simply to feel sad that the world is so broken, and to increase your pray for someone? To make a meal for someone or send a card? Maybe it depends on whether you're in their inner circle or not, but one thing I've learned is this:

We're not meant to push away these all-consuming feelings or simply "snap out of it". We need to walk through it, in solidarity with them.

Hebrews 13:3
Remember those in prison as if you were their fellow prisoners, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.

Job 30:25
Have I not wept for those in trouble? Has not my soul grieved for the poor?

Ecclesiastes 3:4

a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance

Job 2:11
When Job's three friends, Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite, heard about all the troubles that had come upon him, they set out from their homes and met together by agreement to go and sympathize with him and comfort him.

One of my prayer partners and I are praying one specific prayer right now, and I invite you to join us. 

Financial devastation due to the slow economy, and now this emotional devastation, both loom large right now and things could easily get too dark for this person. There appears to be no hope, on any front. She already lives too solitary a life, with too much time alone. Please pray: That God will give Person A tangible evidence that he exists and he loves her.

Thank you, friends!

photo credit

The Meanest Mom on the Block

Well friends, I acted assertively in two instances. I knew it had to be done but I feel sick to my stomach, even two hours later, and my kids? They're slowly coming to understand why their mild-mannered mommy had to be so "mean".

The 12-year-old babysitter left her house to play outside for an hour and a half today with her 9-year-old brother, leaving the 4-year-old and 5-year-old still inside their house. I thought maybe the mother had come to get them for an appointment, so I didn't say anything to the 12-year-old.

They did come out eventually, so I had to assume she left them either sleeping or watching a movie.

When they emerged the little ones immediately came over here and the 12- and 9-year-olds went to the drainage ditch to catch frogs. This ditch is across the street from my home (their house is also across the street and two houses down.)

I had to go across the street with the young ones in hand and tell their sister I had paperwork to do and couldn't have them on my property, because they might get hurt and then I could get sued. I used this language deliberately, not knowing whether she would understand or not, but with the hope she would repeat it to her mother later. I told her the kids wouldn't listen to me about staying with their sister, and would she please take control of them and keep them off the property?

The worst that can happen is they'll think I'm a fickle witch--nice one day and mean the next--and decide not to go to our church. The best thing that can happen is they'll be forced to act more responsibly.

A person who takes responsibility for others inappropriately, is called an enabler. And I won't go there. Enabling doesn't help anyone...it's emotionally unhealthy for all involved.

But, I hated rejecting those little ones. I'm still sick to my stomach.

In other news, our neighborhood friend Lexi ran away last week. The grandfather came to our door looking for her. He had no idea where to look except at our house, so Peter gave him a few other ideas. She hadn't been here that day and we were worried sick about her until we saw her in her front yard a few hours later.

She said she was grounded when Peter drove by on his bike a day later.

Anyhow, since then I've asked that she bring a note with her from her family, indicating that she's allowed to play here. She isn't allowed out of her yard but when she leaves it defiantly, they won't go after her. They're completely non-assertive, choosing instead to continually take her bike away, rather than go and retrieve her. This young lady is strong willed and after telling her three times today to leave, I come in shaking from stress. She kept saying it was okay and her mother didn't have any paper to write a note, but after I came inside and she began walking home, she told Peter she didn't think her mom would give her permission.

So friends, this concludes the story about the balmy August day in which I became the meanest mom on the block.

A Conundrum

Friends, I scarcely know where to begin.

So much to process tonight.

The neighborhood situation? It's changed in the last couple days. Turns out that the girl watching her three siblings, ages 4, 5, and 9? She's not 13 years old. 

She's 12.

And today she fell asleep on the job. The 9-year-old, Aiden, left the house with his two younger siblings while the older sister slept. They came over here, where they know food and drink are available and where they can play with toys and books in a clean house. (Yes, the house has been very clean lately.)

And someone will smile at them here. And maybe pat their cute little heads and tell them their painting has a lot of vivid colors.

Today, I was not ready to host any children. I'd taken Beth to therapy and had chores to do, paperwork to catch up on. Neighborhood children had taken up my time the two previous days and I couldn't dedicate three days in a row to it.

Sounds reasonable, yes? Except that the more I do for this family, the less they do for themselves. The more I've loved on these children, the more the 12-year-old sister ceases to be a babysitter and just becomes a kid who wants to have her own fun. Which is to be expected. She is a kid!

She goes around the block on her bike, leaving the 4-and 5-year-old siblings to fend for themselves. Once the 4-year-old followed after the older sister, in the middle of the street, even turning around a bend from the middle of the street.

He disappeared from my view, and then I saw the 12- and 9-year-olds appear in my driveway from the opposite direction. The 4 year old doesn't have a regular bike, but instead rides one of those low-to-the-ground big wheel bikes. This makes him less visible to cars. He went around the entire block by himself, knowing no bike safety rules. He doesn't stop at stop signs, look both ways, or stay to the right side. No one in this neighborhood wears helmets (except for my children, with the neurotic parents?) There are no bike or motorcycle helmet laws in Ohio.

Last night I received another note from the mother. Could I come over when the gas company gets there the next day, because an adult needs to be present for them to turn on the gas? According to the 12-year-old, the mom didn't pay the last couple dollars of the bill, so the gas got shut off.

My husband went over to their house, mostly outside where the men were working, while I was at therapy. He had to stay 90 minutes because the gas company ran into a few glitches. The 12-year-old did nothing to control her siblings. They kept getting in the gas man's way. The house was in horrendous shape, or so I'm told by my children, who were in it about 20 minutes.

Windows wide open with no screens, flies everywhere. Bedrooms in the worst shape my kids had ever seen, with the 12-year-old's being the worst. The parents didn't have a bedroom or a bed, and one of the children didn't have a bed. The house is a three-bedroom. With two girls and two boys, there should be enough room for everyone? The girls both had their own room.

Also last night, two hours after the note about the gas company, I got another visit. The 9-year-old comes over to ask if his mother can borrow some kid movies. At 8:30 PM. We only have a couple of DVD's, because I happen to prefer videos. I gave him what I had, leaving out the letter and number learning DVD's, which I need intact for my preschooler.

The mother also asked if she could text my phone, because she prefers that to talking. Her son taught me how to text, except that we don't have a texting plan. Who knows what Verizon charges per text! I'm probably going to regret that this woman has my phone number.

I wonder about the mother's overall maturity. When she arrived home from work (she's gone from 9:00 to 4:30) the kids met her at the end of the driveway, excited to see her. She let the three younger ones get on the hood of the car, and the older one get on the back of the car. She proceeded to drive up their driveway this way, and not particularly slow, either. If one of the kids had fallen off the front, she couldn't have stopped in time to prevent an injury.

This mentality is foreign to me. I'm trying to give these folks room to be different, but I'm struggling. Is it my age? I'm probably ten years older than this mother.

I was horrified at this stunt, friends. Seeing it, I immediately panicked about this family. Yes, I'm probably overly conscientious and maybe not the best judge. But this mother is as neglectful as I've ever seen. She must want to be their friend, instead of the adult.

Will I one day have to call CPS about child neglect? How bad can things get? Should I try to do as little as possible to avoid being taken advantage of, and further putting the children in danger? If the 12-year-old thinks I'm watching them, and I think she's watching them, then they're less safe than ever.

I have weeks of homeschooling to plan, leaving me little time to think about keeping the neighbors safe.

What does God want from me? To learn to be assertive? To speak to the mother about her neglectful 12-year-old daughter? Something tells me the mother wouldn't even agree that riding in the middle of the street is dangerous.

The four-year-old now comes whenever he feels like it, whether my kids are out or not. Several times I had trouble getting him to go home after I brought my own kids inside. He came even after his mother arrived home.

Most of this is none of my business, I realize. This is a personal-freedom lovin' country, and thank goodness. You can be a messy, permissive parent if you so desire. CPS, whom I would only call if things got far worse, would probably think me crazy even calling about this family. They see far worse conditions. As a teacher I learned that there almost have to be feces everywhere or obvious physical or se*ual abuse, for children to be removed.

I asked my husband tonight this hypothetical question. Which is best? To have parents you love who neglect you? Or to have foster parents you don't love, who take good care of you? He thinks the latter is best...because love is a verb.

But foster kids can be mistreated and some people take them in just for the extra money--money which is not always spent on the children.

What do I think is best? I don't really know. These children obviously love their mom very much, and for the most part they're all very nice, notwithstanding the 9-year-old's occasional anger fits, and his intermittent disrespect toward adults (is there any wonder?). He probably gets angry because his life feels out of control. No structure. Nothing he can count on.

How many times have they moved? Possibly, three different fathers are involved. Were they evicted and that's why there's very little furniture? Did they move away from neighbors who reported them? Are they recovering from losing their house? Both the mom and the step-dad have jobs, at least right now.

It's so hard, isn't it? These sad situations tare at your heart and how do you process them? This isn't the third world...these children look well fed (though probably not healthily fed). The 12 year old is quite overweight (Childhood obesity is heartbreaking, and on the rise).

Again I ask...what does God want from me? From us? That we all learn to be assertive--something which is hard for all of us (except for my husband)? I'm assertive with my kids and with younger kids, but other people's children? I tend to mind my own business when I can get away with it.

I should have spoken to the 12-year-old right away when she emerged from her nap, but I didn't. I just stewed instead, about this whole predicament. I want to help these children and love them, but that seems to have made the situation worse, not better. Now I almost have to watch them all the time, or not at all.

Setting limits? This family is used to a limitless lifestyle.

Tonight, I blew up at my own kids over the stress of it all. I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed and rotten right now.

Dear Lord, speak to me. What must I do? Help me to see, Lord. You care about souls. I know this. You don't want a single one to perish. Is this only about souls...and not about whether I have time to minister? Is this mother doing her best? Am I the problem? Am I here to fill in the gap until school starts for them next Tuesday? Is that what you want? For me to babysit for free, no matter the inconvenience? No matter that feeling of being taken advantage of? Am I supposed to gently correct in love? Oh, but how I dislike that! I'm no supervisor or counselor, surely Lord?

Speak to me, Lord. Which scripture answers my conundrum?

Matthew 25:40 "The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'

Is this the one, Lord?

Friends, what would you do?

The last thing I heard tonight, as my children came in for the night, was Aiden asking Peter: "Where do you go to church?

Peter told him the name of our church--the one that meets in the elementary school--and Aidan said, "I'll see you there, then!"

He will?