As the day approaches that has been designated for doing what we tell our kids they should be doing every day, I thought it might be interesting to see what exactly a two and a four year old are giving thanks for at this particular moment in their lives.
Are they thankful for their trucks and their trains? Do they especially love their race cars and their movies and their books? Just what is it that a little kid appreciates? And just how much does he even understand about the concept? I decided that I would ask.
I sat them down separately and explained that there was a special day this week called Thanksgiving, when we take a time out to say an extra special “Thank you” for all the things God has given us. Brisco seemed unimpressed with the idea; Cooper just looked at me and said, “Oh.” Their responses made me a little nervous about the answers I was about to receive.
In a world of technology, toys and general abundance, parents never know if the important lessons we try to instill in our kids are being fully absorbed. We want them to appreciate their possessions, but not rely on their existence, to enjoy their material blessings, without feeling entitled to receive them. So just how good of a job are we doing? My conversations with my sons were as follows:
“So, Cooper, tell Mommy what you are thankful for.”
The boy replied, “Well, I’m just thankful for the snow and the ice.” And with a little more thought, he added “…and Bessie and Rudy (the dogs).”
And it seemed one thought just led to another and he really got on a roll. “And for Grandma and Aunt Robyn and Granddaddy. And for Caitlyn and Kelln and Jordan and Hunter. And for Aunt Keri and the babies.
And for Martha and Grandmother and Brisco and Daddy and you. And…oh, and for Tyler and Haley.” And just when I thought he was finished with his list, he added, “Oh, and I’m just thankful for the water. And the leaves to jump into. And that’s all!” he added with a smile.
With Brisco, I had to try a little harder, like most things that involve my second son. “Can you tell Mommy what or who are you thankful for, Brisco?” Right away, he excitedly said, “Food!” Beyond that, he responded with a dozen, “I don’t know’s”. So I prompted him with a question or two.
“Who takes care of you that you are thankful for?” I asked.
“Coopa,” he said with a smile.
I pried. “Is there anyone else?”
“Daddy!” he said with a twinkle in his eye. I thought to myself that this could go on for days, but then he added, “Oh, and Mommy does too.” Whew. I’m glad he noticed.
No doubt if I’d asked, they’d both have given me a plethora of toys and games and things that they consider their favorites. And to eliminate the TV and the trucks and the trains would crush their little hearts at the time. But knowing they’re most thankful for the people in their lives is a great place to start, and is enough to make this parent give thanks every day of the year.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Mischievous
A while back, a lady at church made the observation and comment that “little Brisco sure is mischievous”. I had been looking for that word for a while now, but for some reason it alluded me. Ornery is the only word that came to mind, but it seemed like such a toothless, back-of-the-pickup-in-your-overalls, haven’t–had-a-bath-in-six-months kind of descriptor, while still, albeit 100% true.
But mischievous more clearly and succinctly encompasses my thoughts. And it brings into focus a memory of long ago that I guess I had forgotten until this word was reintroduced to my life as a description for my own child.
Years ago as a small child, my family and I would come to Sentinel to visit. We’d make our rounds to Martha’s and Jones’ and then over to Grandma and Ruby’s. I had an uncle named Buss, which in and of itself always seemed strange to me as a kid. Why would a grown up have a name like Buss, and what did it mean anyway? But “Uncle Buss” was a name that just seemed to fit. He was always tickling us and smiling and sticking out his dentures. We thought it was funny, and maybe a little gross, but we were little kids. Easily entertained.
I don’t remember when it started, or why for that matter. But it seemed, like the second born of my children, I had earned the title “mischievous”. Whether I had done one thing or many, or I simply had “that look”, to Uncle Buss, my name was just that. And it didn’t come out like a school marm reading it from a Dickens' novel. It was that twangy, four-syllable way I still pronounce it today: “mis-chee-vee-us”.
It’s funny how some things stick out in a child’s memory. I couldn’t tell you 10 things about Uncle Buss today if I had to. But I remember always being the one with “the look”. I could be sitting on that old floweredy couch with the raised, gold stitching doing nothing but sitting still and he’d look across at me, grinning, and say, “There’s that mischievous one over there.”
As a child, I don’t remember knowing what that word really meant. I’m sure I asked at some point in time. Maybe I got a truthful response; maybe I didn’t. It didn’t really matter. It wasn’t something I could change or mask or eliminate from my being. It just was. And I guess the same is so for our Brisco.
It is true; some kids just have the look. And maybe some don’t live up to the interpretations of their personalities, but let’s face it, some kids do. Whether it is embraced or avoided, accepted or denied, it is what it is. It somehow helps define who we are and how other people see us. At least while we are young.
Having an ornery little kid is a thing to endure, but I know there are things much worse. After all, my parents lived through it. But when the boy is told not to touch the chocolate cake and while you are watching-making solid eye contact with him, in the presence of God and other witnesses-he takes his fingers and walks them across the table toward that sweet, forbidden snack…taunting my authority with a grin on his face and “the look” in his eyes…that mischievous child can almost win me over, forcing me to overlook his ornery disobedience. Almost.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
But mischievous more clearly and succinctly encompasses my thoughts. And it brings into focus a memory of long ago that I guess I had forgotten until this word was reintroduced to my life as a description for my own child.
Years ago as a small child, my family and I would come to Sentinel to visit. We’d make our rounds to Martha’s and Jones’ and then over to Grandma and Ruby’s. I had an uncle named Buss, which in and of itself always seemed strange to me as a kid. Why would a grown up have a name like Buss, and what did it mean anyway? But “Uncle Buss” was a name that just seemed to fit. He was always tickling us and smiling and sticking out his dentures. We thought it was funny, and maybe a little gross, but we were little kids. Easily entertained.
I don’t remember when it started, or why for that matter. But it seemed, like the second born of my children, I had earned the title “mischievous”. Whether I had done one thing or many, or I simply had “that look”, to Uncle Buss, my name was just that. And it didn’t come out like a school marm reading it from a Dickens' novel. It was that twangy, four-syllable way I still pronounce it today: “mis-chee-vee-us”.
It’s funny how some things stick out in a child’s memory. I couldn’t tell you 10 things about Uncle Buss today if I had to. But I remember always being the one with “the look”. I could be sitting on that old floweredy couch with the raised, gold stitching doing nothing but sitting still and he’d look across at me, grinning, and say, “There’s that mischievous one over there.”
As a child, I don’t remember knowing what that word really meant. I’m sure I asked at some point in time. Maybe I got a truthful response; maybe I didn’t. It didn’t really matter. It wasn’t something I could change or mask or eliminate from my being. It just was. And I guess the same is so for our Brisco.
It is true; some kids just have the look. And maybe some don’t live up to the interpretations of their personalities, but let’s face it, some kids do. Whether it is embraced or avoided, accepted or denied, it is what it is. It somehow helps define who we are and how other people see us. At least while we are young.
Having an ornery little kid is a thing to endure, but I know there are things much worse. After all, my parents lived through it. But when the boy is told not to touch the chocolate cake and while you are watching-making solid eye contact with him, in the presence of God and other witnesses-he takes his fingers and walks them across the table toward that sweet, forbidden snack…taunting my authority with a grin on his face and “the look” in his eyes…that mischievous child can almost win me over, forcing me to overlook his ornery disobedience. Almost.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Conversations between brothers
Eavesdropping on two toddlers is pretty easy. It’s not as if they’ve got nonchalance down to an art; they’re just babes after all. So by timing things just right, I’ve discovered that listening to a five minute conversation between brothers can deliver more amusement to a busy mother than just about any other activity I can squeeze into my day.
Hearing what children discuss when they think no one is listening is worth all the effort it takes for a mom to strain her ears and stand at attention for 10 minutes outside a closed bathroom door. Crouching in the hall-calves cramping, legs numb-while the oldest gives directions to his brother in his most stern, parental voice is all the invitation a parent needs to sit listening to their playtime antics.
Yes, children will act and re-enact 101 different scenarios during their daily amusements-most of which they have seen or heard their parents or friends doing first. Our boys were playing one afternoon at a friend’s house while his “Gram” was there supervising. She had given the boys instructions on what they should and should not be doing with her important business papers, and as she left the room and rounded the corner, she swears she heard my first born say, “Man, she’s bossy!”
Even so, the bigger boy is usually the best at following the rules, even when mom’s out of the picture. I often overhear him telling Brisco that they “can’t go to the alley” because mom said they “have to stay on the porch”. Most of the time Brisco will follow his lead.
I guess I tell them often enough to stop and think before they act. “Just use your brain,” I believe are my words. I suppose I have given little thought to the fact that at this age, a brain is unseen and incomprehensible, and biology class is still more than 10 years away. But at least I know they are listening. Just today Cooper told me, “Mom, I really used my brain! I thought, ‘what did Mommy tell me to do…’ and then I just did it!”
Over the weekend, that same little boy told his aunt Rhonda that maybe someday his Dad will be able to play football like the boys on TV, “when he gets a little bigger”. I guess he has received that response a time or two as well.
Good parents want their kids to listen and do and create good habits from the lessons we teach them every day. We can only hope that they take hold of the positive examples we set and sail right past our faults. And there’s nothing more eye opening to the kind of job we’re doing than observing our children’s behavior when they think that no one is watching.
Like the afternoon our boys spent playing in the backyard with a little boy from church. It seems they found a frog in the dog bowl, and somewhere along the way, they decided to name him Scout.
On that particular day, Scout was destined to be an explorer along with his coarse and curious new friends. He explored the inside of plastic cups. He explored the back of the dump truck. He explored the inside of the dog food bucket and the John Deere tractor and an empty cardboard box. Poor ole Scout had explored so many places that I had to go out and make sure he was exploring of his own free will and not by force…or worse, post-mortem.
I explained to the boys that even frogs were part of God’s creation, and reminded them to be nice to their new friend while they were teaching him to explore. They all let out an “OK, Mom!” and returned to their busy play.
Keeping an ear to the window, I was reassured to find that although their handling of poor ole Scout was anything but gentle, their spirits could not have been kinder. And when they finally decided to let him go free (shooting him through a hole three-feet high on the chain-link fence), I couldn’t help but snicker at how closely our boys have been paying attention. “Bye-bye, Scout! Be careful! Have fun! We love you!”
I was taken aback for a moment at how this afternoon outside, playing with a frog, so closely resembled the raising of children. They snoop and explore and investigate. Sometimes on their own; sometimes with a little nudge from their parents. And someday, they’ll jump right out of the safe confines of mom and dad’s backyard, with both of us waving and shouting behind, “Be careful! Have Fun! We love you!” Job well done.
Until that time, I know we’ll hear many more conversations take place between these brothers, and not all will end with such peace and pride for their parents. But for now they are doing their best. So until that next secret adventure takes place behind closed doors, I’ll be watching and waiting for my five minutes of comedy delivered straight from the mouths of my babes.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Hearing what children discuss when they think no one is listening is worth all the effort it takes for a mom to strain her ears and stand at attention for 10 minutes outside a closed bathroom door. Crouching in the hall-calves cramping, legs numb-while the oldest gives directions to his brother in his most stern, parental voice is all the invitation a parent needs to sit listening to their playtime antics.
Yes, children will act and re-enact 101 different scenarios during their daily amusements-most of which they have seen or heard their parents or friends doing first. Our boys were playing one afternoon at a friend’s house while his “Gram” was there supervising. She had given the boys instructions on what they should and should not be doing with her important business papers, and as she left the room and rounded the corner, she swears she heard my first born say, “Man, she’s bossy!”
Even so, the bigger boy is usually the best at following the rules, even when mom’s out of the picture. I often overhear him telling Brisco that they “can’t go to the alley” because mom said they “have to stay on the porch”. Most of the time Brisco will follow his lead.
I guess I tell them often enough to stop and think before they act. “Just use your brain,” I believe are my words. I suppose I have given little thought to the fact that at this age, a brain is unseen and incomprehensible, and biology class is still more than 10 years away. But at least I know they are listening. Just today Cooper told me, “Mom, I really used my brain! I thought, ‘what did Mommy tell me to do…’ and then I just did it!”
Over the weekend, that same little boy told his aunt Rhonda that maybe someday his Dad will be able to play football like the boys on TV, “when he gets a little bigger”. I guess he has received that response a time or two as well.
Good parents want their kids to listen and do and create good habits from the lessons we teach them every day. We can only hope that they take hold of the positive examples we set and sail right past our faults. And there’s nothing more eye opening to the kind of job we’re doing than observing our children’s behavior when they think that no one is watching.
Like the afternoon our boys spent playing in the backyard with a little boy from church. It seems they found a frog in the dog bowl, and somewhere along the way, they decided to name him Scout.
On that particular day, Scout was destined to be an explorer along with his coarse and curious new friends. He explored the inside of plastic cups. He explored the back of the dump truck. He explored the inside of the dog food bucket and the John Deere tractor and an empty cardboard box. Poor ole Scout had explored so many places that I had to go out and make sure he was exploring of his own free will and not by force…or worse, post-mortem.
I explained to the boys that even frogs were part of God’s creation, and reminded them to be nice to their new friend while they were teaching him to explore. They all let out an “OK, Mom!” and returned to their busy play.
Keeping an ear to the window, I was reassured to find that although their handling of poor ole Scout was anything but gentle, their spirits could not have been kinder. And when they finally decided to let him go free (shooting him through a hole three-feet high on the chain-link fence), I couldn’t help but snicker at how closely our boys have been paying attention. “Bye-bye, Scout! Be careful! Have fun! We love you!”
I was taken aback for a moment at how this afternoon outside, playing with a frog, so closely resembled the raising of children. They snoop and explore and investigate. Sometimes on their own; sometimes with a little nudge from their parents. And someday, they’ll jump right out of the safe confines of mom and dad’s backyard, with both of us waving and shouting behind, “Be careful! Have Fun! We love you!” Job well done.
Until that time, I know we’ll hear many more conversations take place between these brothers, and not all will end with such peace and pride for their parents. But for now they are doing their best. So until that next secret adventure takes place behind closed doors, I’ll be watching and waiting for my five minutes of comedy delivered straight from the mouths of my babes.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Monday, November 10, 2008
Church chat
It seems church chat is really on the minds of our boys as of late.
Last week, Cooper came looking for a pen and some paper because he was in the den “doing some preaching just like John”.
And Brisco has become his generation’s version of Lawrence Welk, as he has taken to leading the congregation in song. Of course every song is either “Jesus Loves Me” or “Itsy Bitsy Spider” and it is sung from the pew, at the top of his lungs, and with is book upside down. But that doesn’t seem to matter to him at all.
Cooper was taking a nap just today, and out of the blue, he rushed down the stairs to tell me that he had sung “Jesus Loves Me” all by himself in the bed. These are good things by which to occupy their minds. But sometimes, church chat can get confused with regular old chitchat, and from a child’s mind to his mouth comes pure parental entertainment.
Brisco’s latest piece of Biblical humor is the result of listening to prayers. For some reason, the boy finds it amusing when someone prays for the “body”. Whether it is restoring health to someone’s “body” or being thankful for the food which “nourishes our body”, he can’t seem to contain his amusement when he hears that word and will raise his head, unfold his hands and practically yell through his laughter, “He said ‘BODY’!”
I came across some similar pieces of church chat from children much like my own.
Dear God,
I went to this wedding and they kissed right in church. Is that OK?
Dear God,
I think the stapler is one of your greatest inventions.
Dear God,
In Bible times did they really talk that fancy?
Dear God,
I think about you sometimes, even when I’m not praying.
Dear God,
I am American. What are you?
Dear God,
If you will watch in church on Sunday, I will show you my new shoes.
Dear God,
If we come back as something, please don’t let me be Jennifer Horton because I hate her.
Dear God,
I would like to live 900 years like the guy in the Bible.
Dear God,
If you give me a genie lamp like Aladdin, I will give you anything you want except my money or my chess set.
Dear God,
We read that Thomas Edison made light. But in Sunday school they said you did it. So I bet he stoled your idea.
Dear God,
If you let the dinosaur not be extinct, we would not have a country. You did the right thing.
Dear God,
Please send Dennis Clark to a different camp this year.
Dear God,
Maybe Cain and Abel would not kill each other so much if they had their own rooms. It works with my brother.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
Last week, Cooper came looking for a pen and some paper because he was in the den “doing some preaching just like John”.
And Brisco has become his generation’s version of Lawrence Welk, as he has taken to leading the congregation in song. Of course every song is either “Jesus Loves Me” or “Itsy Bitsy Spider” and it is sung from the pew, at the top of his lungs, and with is book upside down. But that doesn’t seem to matter to him at all.
Cooper was taking a nap just today, and out of the blue, he rushed down the stairs to tell me that he had sung “Jesus Loves Me” all by himself in the bed. These are good things by which to occupy their minds. But sometimes, church chat can get confused with regular old chitchat, and from a child’s mind to his mouth comes pure parental entertainment.
Brisco’s latest piece of Biblical humor is the result of listening to prayers. For some reason, the boy finds it amusing when someone prays for the “body”. Whether it is restoring health to someone’s “body” or being thankful for the food which “nourishes our body”, he can’t seem to contain his amusement when he hears that word and will raise his head, unfold his hands and practically yell through his laughter, “He said ‘BODY’!”
I came across some similar pieces of church chat from children much like my own.
Dear God,
I went to this wedding and they kissed right in church. Is that OK?
Dear God,
I think the stapler is one of your greatest inventions.
Dear God,
In Bible times did they really talk that fancy?
Dear God,
I think about you sometimes, even when I’m not praying.
Dear God,
I am American. What are you?
Dear God,
If you will watch in church on Sunday, I will show you my new shoes.
Dear God,
If we come back as something, please don’t let me be Jennifer Horton because I hate her.
Dear God,
I would like to live 900 years like the guy in the Bible.
Dear God,
If you give me a genie lamp like Aladdin, I will give you anything you want except my money or my chess set.
Dear God,
We read that Thomas Edison made light. But in Sunday school they said you did it. So I bet he stoled your idea.
Dear God,
If you let the dinosaur not be extinct, we would not have a country. You did the right thing.
Dear God,
Please send Dennis Clark to a different camp this year.
Dear God,
Maybe Cain and Abel would not kill each other so much if they had their own rooms. It works with my brother.
And that’s All in a day’s work!
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