I missed it.

"She got over her acne," a girl at church whipsered to her mother after seeing you for the first time in 2 months. I had forgotten about your little raspberry complexion issues. I had forgotten that you were congested to the point of snarfing all the time for the first 2 months of your life. Even though it seemed like a constant fixture 2 months ago, your super-pissed cry was a surprise to me in the car today since you turned into an angel baby at 3 months old. I had forgotten that you were a child of passion until I heard that demanding scream again this morning.

Natalie, I believe you have a peace to you that Grace will be searching for her whole life. And Grace has a sense of drama that you will never quite master no matter how hard you try at thirteen. You futures seem almost clearer to me than your pasts, and you both were born yesterday. Already I have let so much of your early days and months slip away.

Someday I will play "You Missed It" for you and you will understand how heartwrenching but growth-instilling it is to be a mother:
http://www.mikebaas.com/audio/
Click on You Missed It.

The Point of Faith

*Please see the comments section under my post "God has a sense of humor" for the inspiration for today's post.*

The purpose of religion is to allow God to work through you to transform yourself, your community, and the world. The world is currently both made by God yet not of God. The transformation of which I speak will bring God's kingdom here on earth. God will be "all in all," meaning that 100% of us will be filled 100% with Him.

It is already happening. In little moments everyday, regular people are allowing God to bring about His kingdom. Where can we see it?

We see it every time you turn towards forgiveness. It happens when you take care of someone who is sick. It happens when you let go of anger and warm your heart towards someone who has hurt you. These situations could be of high magnitutde--for example, joinng the Peace Corps to teach sustainable agriculture to farmers in Latin America. But they can also be more subtle situations, like acting as a servant to your spouse. In fact, a small daily act of faith in God for me is giving my husband the better-looking or bigger plate of food each night. Does that solve world hunger? No. But does it require that I put him before myself? Yes.

"God's Kingdom" isn't necessarily a place; it can be a second in time when you allow yourself to be utterly about someone else's needs, the way God did on the cross. There is no reason to belittle the tiny moments where we achieve God's Kingdom; in fact, it is in these little moments of selflessness that build together towards a life of doing God's will.

John 14:9-10
"Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, 'Show us the Father'? Don't you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you are not just my own. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work."

Like Jesus, we can reveal God in our own daily lives in devastatingly significant and ordinary ways.

Playground Confessions, Part II

"And now, back to our regularly scheduled Playground Confessions!"

The setting: A park I've never been to. I am there to meet up with an Attachment Parenting playgroup but no one else shows. I do spot two little kids playing off to the side of the building and I go around to introduce myself. Perhaps Grace will be entertained by these adorable twins and stop throwing sand in her hair.

The players: Me, Grace and Natalie (obviously), a boy and girl set of twins, 3 years old, a woman and a man in wheelchairs, tending to the kids. They both look mid-30's. She is blonde and probably wore leg warmers in the 80's. She still wears blue eye shadow. He has glasses and speaks sternly yet lovingly to the kids.

The wind up: Blue eye-shadow mom and I are chatting as the kids run haywire around the empty playground and stern man wheels after twin boy who is running full steam aways from us across the baseball field. She mentions that it is so much hotter here. I inquire where they are from. They've just moved from Seattle. See, her husband has a drug addiction problem and can't stay employed. Oh, sure. I know. The whole "husband dope addict problem." Sure. I nod. They are separated until he keeps the same job in construction for more than 6 months and must be clean for a year. Yep, that makes sense. I nod again, wondering if I have a sign on my forehead, and I begin to think this story would make a good post.

It gets better: If you can believe it, it does get better. Eye-shadow mom wheels over to the other twin as stern man returns to our shaded area. He mentions something about his job, and I ask him about what type of construction he does. Oh, no, you see, he's not the husband. Just a friend. The twins' godfather. Been friends with the mom since childhood at a school for disabled children. Okay. But, you, know, everyone always assumes he's her husband, what with the intense connection they have. I mean, he's always thought that there could be something between them if she hadn't gotten married...His voice trails off. I nod. Sure, I know. The whole "in love with another man's wife problem." Yes, yes, tough stuff.

The wrap-up: This guy is out here at the park, acting like the father these kids don't have, and is hoping against hope that eye-shadow woman kicks out her good-for-nothing husband for good. She must totally be aware of this but continues to lead him on in a certain fashion; after all, it is flattering and he is a big help with the kids.

The analysis: Some issues are so personal and secret but are also on your mind 24/7 (like being in love with a married woman, or having a husband with a drug problem), that you sometimes just have to talk about it with someone who can't do any damage with the information.

I now invite any of your comments on similar experiences. Any random people confessing there personal lives to you at the playground/water cooler/shopping mall/airplane?

She's two.

I thought I'd give Grace something to do while I was cooking dinner the other night. "Aha!" I thought, "I'll keep her busy with a bowl of ice!" Smiling at my brilliance, I got out two bowls and filled the pink one with ice. She climbed up onto her stool and watched me carefully as I instructed, "Look, Grace, you can pick a piece of ice and put it in the blue bowl!" I ceremoniously dropped the first piece into the bowl with a clang.

Grace sat there a moment and then casually picked up the entire pink bowl, dumped all the ice at once into the blue bowl, and climbed down, walking out of the kitchen.

Here's to me thinking of a great idea about 7 months too late in her development.
Here's to Grace creatively solving new challenges everyday.
Here's to Grace thinking for herself.
Here's to Grace on her second birthday. May God continue to bless us with Grace's charm and wisdom.

God has a sense of humor

"We interrupt this edition of Playground Confessions to insert an anecdote from Sarah's real life. Playground Confessions will be seen later this week. Or next (let's be realistic)."

Grace and I spent a large part of the morning trying to teach Natalie how to play peekaboo. Natalie was lying on the bed; I was sitting at her feet, and Grace was in my lap. Grace and I took turns covering our eyes and saying, "Where's Mommy?" or "Where's Grace?" Natalie just smiled and smiled the whole time like the lovebug she is.

The day went downhill from there, however. Grace is turning two this week and you really can tell. She refused to keep her cup in the kitchen, poured it down the front of her shirt while sitting on the couch, left a puddle of ice on the kitchen floor (in a separate incident!), repeatedly took items out of the bag I was loading for her swin class, and the worst of all: woke up the baby THREE TIMES today. Plus, Natalie has decided that she doesn't like napping when Grace naps, so you know what that means: now Mommy doesn't get a nap (or a break, or a shower, or time to get stuff done, etc.).

I finally hit the end of my sleep-deprived rope at dinner when Grace repeateded shreiked that she wanted more hotdogs as though she were starving to death, and then shreiked that she didn't as though bringing one to her plate would poison us all. Natalie began to cry during this interchange and all I could think to do to avoid slapping Grace was to take my hands and bury my face in them. I was prepared to start crying but decided to pray instead.

So there I am with my face in my hands, standing in the middle of the kitchen with puddles of melted ice everywhere, Grace soaking wet, Natalie crying in her bouncy seat, and me telling God how I can't do this anymore. I literally said to God in my head, "Fix this." Can you guess what happened? After about 10 seconds, Grace says enthusiastically, "Where's Mommy?!?"

It took me a second to realize that while I am at the end of my rope, literally trying to keep myself from abusing my kids, Grace thinks I am playing peekaboo. I open my hands and say, "Here I am, honey!" and burst out laughing. Grace starts laughing and even Natalie smiles. God fixes things once again. Thank you, Lord.

Playground Confessions, Part I

Maybe I have a warm, inviting, sympathetic look to me. Or maybe these moms are just lonely. But one thing is clear, people need someone to talk to out there in playground-world.

The setting: I am with Michelle at a local playground on a super sunny day. All the moms are huddling around the one table that's in the shade while our children run screaming by and we try to swipe them with sunblock or douse them with water.

The players: Michelle, Me, a 30-something mom of a toddler and a new born who looks as though she "did big things" before this whole mom thing, and a late-20s super chic low rider jeans mom of a little boy.

The wind up: I ask the "did big things" mom how things were going with the newborn and all. She starts with a timid, "Oh, okay..." and then lets it loose by telling us she can't handle the newborn crying and leaves her alone to cry while she tries to sleep. She feels guilty but is desperate. After a little "there, there, poor thing" and a some "have you tried swaddling/a swing/a sling/some valium," we move onto the next topic, husbands. "Did big things" mom says that having a baby has not helped her marriage as dh (dear husband, for all you non-bulletin board people) doesn't understand her anymore.

The main confession: The low rider jeans mom pipes in with a confession of her own--she is separated from her husband over these same issues and is seeking a divorce. Not exactly trained in family therapy, Michelle and I take Grace and Conner throwing sand at each other as our cue to leave. "Good luck," we say to the moms, as we high-tail it out of there.

The wrap-up: I'm all for sharing with other moms, and I don't claim to always keep my own personal stuff to myself either, but these women were total strangers. It wasn't like we'd talked for 30 minutes about nothing and then they unloaded. The confessions were like the second thing out of their mouths!

Th analysis: It is unnatural for humans to be parenting in isolation the way we do today in this culture. We need to have a network of other moms who are doing this with us and who have done it before to share with and learn from.

Stay tuned for the next installment of....Playground Confessions!