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Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Children. Show all posts

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Morning

Doug left early this morning to go ice fishing.  Spring appears to have arrived early so we're taking advantage of all the winter activities before the snow melts completely!

The kids and I had a leisurely breakfast of french toast and Nutella: the breakfast of champions.  The kids sure enjoyed being so messy.


(Please note that Brand hasn't started eating yet.)

Charissa would say "What-tella?"  And I'd say, "NUT-ella!"

I love having kids.



I crumbled an old piece of bread on our railing outside and we watched the Stellar Jays and Camp Robbers fight over the crumbs. 

"I wish I could fly like a bird, Charissa said wistfully.


I told her when her Papa (my Dad) was growing up on the island of Guam they would have hurricanes so Papa would make wings from cardboard and go outside to fly in the strong winds.

"Would you like to fly like Papa?"

"I don't know about that," she responded.

Well alrighty then.

 


(Note Nutella/fork tribal markings on forehead.  And orange marker in ear.)  


Breakfast was followed by a bubble bath to remove the gooey deliciousness.  It's 42 degrees now so we might skitter on outside to enjoy the weather.  The grizzlies are out but since the kids aren't covered in chocolate they should leave us alone.


I'll take bear spray just in case.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Thoughts on a Miscarriage


It has been over a month since we lost Baby Fourtner #3.  Everything was so busy in the two weeks following my miscarriage.  I would occasionally pause and wonder “what on earth has happened?” But I would press onward while shoving all of my emotions into the back of my mind.  

Since then, I have been able to contemplate more, process, talk, pray.  Recently, a sweet friend asked me this:
“Is there anything you've learned or thought or wish you had known beforehand that you know now about having a miscarriage that you would want others to know?”
While I don’t have any earth-shattering answers, here are a couple thoughts I’ve had and I thought they might be worth sharing for the right people. 
   
I had to realize my baby as an individual.   Each baby is its own individual with unique DNA and a different story, no matter how short.  I didn’t want to bunch it with all other miscarriages rather than mourn it for its very own.  I am so thankful for the understanding support I received from those that have lost a baby to miscarriage.  They know each one is important.  Perhaps this was a failing on my part in bunching miscarriages together in my mind before experiencing it for myself.  Even if this was my 5th miscarriage, each one is its own loss.  I can’t imagine it ever getting easier.  I don’t think it should.

      I did not know how to grieve.  My baby was 6 weeks old in utero when he or she slipped away.  There was no small body to wrap and bury.  There are no personal face-to-face memories to ponder.  There isn’t even a sonogram picture.  But my baby was a complete reality to me.  I had three positive pregnancy tests, I was sick & sore, I had prayed for his or her future, for a name & for his/her salvation.  But then, just like that, gone.  There was nothing tangible to hold onto.  One of the things I did to commemorate my baby’s existence was my blog post.  That actually helped a lot.  But besides that, I had a very hard time knowing what to do.  It was something I’d never really thought about before.  I’m sure it would be different for everyone – writing a letter, planting a tree, putting up a cross – but doing something to solidify that my baby had been on this earth, even for a short time, helped me.

      I had no idea how to tell people.  I started miscarrying 2 days before Christmas.  The last thing I wanted to do was tell those around me “Merry Christmas!  I’m having a miscarriage.”  I hardly told anyone except a few when I was doubled over in public and felt my behavior needed an explanation.  Maybe I should have told more people.  I don’t know.  But I didn’t know how or if I should bring anyone into the loss of someone who was important to me but, as yet, non-existent in the minds of those around me.  It was awkward.  It was blunt.  I don’t know if there was any better way to do it.

      Miscarriage is a result of the Fall.  Reading through websites, this is what I saw: “Miscarriage is most often the body’s way of ridding itself of an unhealthy pregnancy.  Between 10-25% of pregnancies end in miscarriage.  This is a normal way for your body to react”.  Miscarriage might be normal but it is not how it should be.  A baby dying inside its mommy is never how God made this world.  Every time I flushed the toilet I wept, wondering if that was my child.  There was nothing right about it.  Miscarriage is a result of what happened that black day in the Garden.  Acknowledging it as a manifestation of our fallen earth helped me to put it in perspective – and it also brought me hope.  Death will be no more in Heaven. 

      If it was even possible, I hated abortion even more.  It was horrifying to me before, but now…why any woman would purposefully go through that is utterly beyond my comprehension.  The lies being told to women daily in the name of choice…It. Must. Stop.

            I wasn’t prepared for how the pregnancies and babies of others would affect me.  By now, I would have heard the heartbeat and maybe posted a sonogram picture announcing it to everyone.  Within a 24 hour period this week, I heard of 4 pregnancies, all of them due when I would have been.  Seeing pregnancy announcements, round bellies and scrunchy, beautiful newborns gives me a hollow feeling, but at the same time, a hopeful feeling.  Others are pregnant and having babies - that means life continues and I rejoice.  But not for me now, which also makes me mourn at the same time.  A joyful mourning is a strange feeling.

      My trust in God has grown.  I know this could sound callous and I don’t want to offend anyone, but I find no mention in the Bible of what happens to a baby when it dies.  Rather than worry about that, I want to say this: the question for me was not “where is my baby now?”  The question for me was, “will I trust God’s perfect wisdom in this?”  Do I fully and truly believe that in His implicit goodness, perfection, justice and mercy, God will do what is absolutely right for my baby?  I believe he or she has a soul and was created in the image of God, even at the tender age of 6 weeks.  I struggled with my answer, but it had to be yes.  And by saying that and trusting, I have drawn closer to Him.  He has brought me comfort.  I trust Him with my life, and I must trust Him with my child’s.  Each night, with my two walking/talking babies, I bow over their beds and give them to Him, asking that He would be glorified in their lives.  My prayer is the same for this sweet one I never held: May God be glorified.


Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Cabin Fever Cure

You know how when you go to a second hand store and they have those grody mattresses stacked in a corner for $5?  Buy one.  Put it on the floor.  Your kids will know what it is...


...A cheap trampoline!

Get on there, yourself.  It's a great workout!

Thursday, January 19, 2012

An Educational Breakthrough

Charissa is reading. 

The Princess has always been pretty self-driven.  She honestly taught herself how to write the entire alphabet - a development I'm still trying to grasp.  One day, she sat down, pulled out her little writing pad with the ABC's and proceeded to write each letter five or six times until she liked the look of it, then she'd move on to the next letter.  She knows their names and sounds, too. 

I'm brilliant PRAISE GOD!!!!

For Christmas, she received some of the Bob books and so last week I decided to try having her read the first one.  I brought it out with much excitement, pumping her up for this great step in life. 

"Charissa, you're going to read your FIRST BOOK!!" 

She slumped.  She moaned. 

"YAY!!  We can DO this thing!  Reading is FUN!!!"  I encouraged and jumped and smiled.

She flopped down next to me and sighed as she turned to the first page.

With hardly any trouble she read the first book about Mat who sat and all that sort of thing. 

"YOU DID IT!!!  GOOD JOB!!!"  I was ecstatic. 

She fell down.  She groaned. 

"Take your book to Daddy and show him your FIRST BOOK!!!"  This was followed by her stumping up the stairs listlessly holding the book and dropping it on the floor in front of Doug while pouting.  Doug praised her all over the place and Charissa never cracked a smile.  She came back down stairs, handed me the book and then went down stairs.

I was shocked.  What went wrong?  I didn't push her, I had encouraged her, I had kept a positive attitude - why was she such a floppy wreck?

Later, I spoke with my Mom about the whole scenario and how confounded we were at her behavior leading to and proceeding such an accomplishment in life.

You might know or you might not: I'm the eldest of 13 kids, all homeschooled K-12.  I consider Mom an expert.  She has earned her honorary doctorate in child development, psychology and pedagogy.  After a good conversation with her, this is what I took from it.

Charissa is a bright little lady.  Because she is more on the independent side and is self-motivated, the hullabaloo might have made her respond like this for two reasons. 

First, she might have believed her task to be to difficult for her to accomplish.  After all, she taught herself the entire alphabet with minimal help or encouragement.  All the praise could have put her off while thinking this was a far more difficult task than she had previously attempted when in truth, it was just the next step.

Second, she might have been turned off by how enthusiastic I was acting.  She might have been thinking, "I can totally do this.  You don't have to be so freaky about it."

Mom recommended that next time I be far more matter of fact about it.  Just tell her "here is the next book for you to read" and act like it's the most normal thing in the world.  Give her a brief word of praise at the end with affirmation such as "I knew you could do it."

I used this approach a couple days later and it worked beautifully.  She read the book happily.  She even pretended to not know the word "Sam" and said "hamburger" instead - which is far more her style than being a limp, whiny noodle.  I'm seeing a bright future of reading happiness.   It's nice to have two self-motivated people in our home.  (P.S. I am not one of them)

Different children, different reading styles.  I wonder what Brandt has up his sleeve.  Whatever comes, I'm glad I have an expert just a phone call away.  Thanks, Mom :-)

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

The Invalid

We can't seem to be healthy around here.  It started with colds and fevers right after Christmas and has continued from there with multiple other viruses.  Currently, we're battling the fast and furious tummy bug.  My precious button of a boy awoke in jolly spirits as usual but after partaking his breakfast smoothie proceeded to...uh...revisit it, a practice that continued for the rest of the day.  He was pretty happy between "episodes" for a little while but gradually lost his trademark joy and constant movement - which was sad to see but a blessed relief for the carpeting.  We will need to rent a steamer.

He then sighed and rested in my lap for most of the morning while watching Thomas the Tank Engine.  I snapped this picture while returning from the bathroom.  Note the sunken eyes, the pathetic slump, the hopeless expression, perhaps the fleeting desire to no longer continue on this earth.  He is wearing outfit #5 in this picture and it was only 11am. 


You know he's desperately ill if he falls asleep in the busiest room of the house.  That wee stainless steel bowl was his constant companion all day.  It is so small and precious I teared up a few times while washing it out. 


He then slept for most of the afternoon but wasn't completely healed when he woke.  This is his second time with this particular tummy bug but the first time wasn't as dramatic or lengthy.  My poor little invalid. 

Monday, January 16, 2012

A Whispered Goodbye

We prayed so much that God would place you in my womb.
We rejoiced in the gift of your life and eagerly anticipated our meeting.
The six weeks I held you will never be forgotten.
It would have been so exciting to know who you were, 
your smile, your eyes, your joys and sorrows.
Instead, we place you back into the hand of our Creator,
knowing He has a better plan. 
So we whisper "goodbye" before saying "hello".
You are loved, Baby.  We miss you.


November, 2011 - December 23, 2011

It has been a few very busy weeks since then, but it is still vivid in my mind and heart.  The due date would have been August 16th.  

"The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” Job 1:21b

Friday, December 23, 2011

Anticipation!





The presents you see behind the extremely excited princess is from some sweet friends of ours.  She asks if she can open it every day.  You should have seen her eyes when it came through the door.  It's as big as her!


We're all getting ready for the festivities of the weekend.  The community is gathering for a Christmas Eve dinner, we'll have a Candlelight Service that night and then in the morning - a Christmas Service! 

Hopefully, we'll be fully packed by the end of today so Doug can take the loaded suburban on the 5 hour drive from here to Livingston to Billings to the Pilot parking lot tomorrow morning.  That way, we can snowmobile over the pass and be on our way to Colorado by Christmas evening.  Having a 20 minute drive become 5 hours due to the unplowed pass to our East is a tad complicated but nothing we can't handle :-)

Time to make some of these for Christmas morning.  Enter at your own risk.  Thank you forever, Pioneer Woman.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Catch Up

Have you ever seen "Marley and Me"?  (Proceed with caution: could cause inconsolable weeping.)  Anyway, there is a part when John Grogan tries to cover the span of a year in naming highlights at lightening speed for about 2 minutes.  Well, this isn't a year, it's really only about two months, but that's how I felt posting this. 

Since the middle of October,
We carved a pumpkin,


 Joined the Cooke City School in a Field Trip to Rocky Creek Farm,


and for their Halloween party.
Brandt was a leopard,


 Charissa was a cow,


and we went trick-or-treating with the five other kids in town.
The hotel owner unlocked the vending machine for them.
Only in Cooke City.


Fall was glorious,


There was a "Girls Only Sleepover",


 and Doug and I went on a date to the Buffalo Bill Historical Center.
(our first date since getting here in June!)

 

Brandt loves green applesauce,



 Playing in the snow,


 And playing with big sis' things
...much to her chagrin.


 He also wears the cutest Sorel snowboots ever known to mankind.


 Charissa is beautiful and insightful,


She now knows and writes every letter of the alphabet in order.
I am thanking the brains God gave her and LeapFrog for this development.


 She loves crafts,


 And writing letters.


 She also loves to "read" her Bible with a flashlight before going to sleep.

 

We have snow everywhere,



A grizzly at the workplace,


Four moose at our salt lick,

 

And a buffalo out our window.


We even got a picture of all smiles for the Christmas card
which I actually sent this year.


God is good and He continues to bless us!

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Kiddo Poems

Charissa is fun,
Charissa is cute,


 Charissa blows bubbles,
It sounds like a toot.


Brandt is a gentleman,
refined and deferential,


When eating his snack,
His feet cross at the ankle.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Of Children and Sleep

Yes, I realize this title seems...er...mutually exclusive?  If you're a parent, you know what I mean - unless of course, you're one of those with a "he slept ever since the day he was born - he was even born at a normal waking hour!" parents.  In that case, praise God from whom all blessings flow and maybe our kids should talk.  But anyway...

Before my first was born, I thought crying it out was basically the most horrifying thing I could think of.  I would actually tear up picturing the poor children with "cry it out" parents.  Only heartless people would ever listen to their child without running to their aid.  Of course, I agonized over different sleep methods and devoured books:  "Ferberize" (please come up with a better name, someone) or "No-Cry" (doesn't that sound nice? Ha!) or the "Attachment Parenting Method" (which was my standard of perfection).  But then came the end of all my idealized notions...I had a child. 

Now really, Charissa wasn't a bad sleeper.  At least, I don't think she was - I can't seem to remember all that clearly...  She was up about every 3 hours to eat, like any other healthy child, and would conk right back to sleep afterward.  Nap time was a dream - I would lie her down and wouldn't hear from her again for a good 2 hours. 

But once she hit about 3 months, she started what we would call "The Screaming Time".  I don't think she was overstimulated considering we hardly left the house except for our perfectly scheduled walk at 10am.  I know she wasn't sick, or hungry, or feeling unloved.  I changed my diet all to shreds and nothing seemed to work.  I don't know what was going on; I guess it's called "colic".  All I know is, she would start screaming at 5pm and it would go on until 10pm when she would finally fall asleep in an exhausted pile.  We would take turns walking with her.  The one not walking would follow the other with a plate of food and spoon dinner into the others mouth. 

I wanted to be with her in her time of need, but after a few days of this (it lasted about 2 weeks - which is forever, by the way) I was feeling it.  Like, a LOT.  Eventually, after the first two hours or so, we would kiss her, pray for her and lay her in bed where she would scream for multiple hours.  I guess you could say I "Ferberized" (please, change the name) since I would check on her intermittently.  This was, of course, the "heartless" method of my past but it was better than my throwing her out the window - which is what would have happened.  Putting her in her bed to scream for hours was the most loving decision I could come up with.  I could have tried to grit my teeth and bear it, but the resentment and anger were more tear inducing and scarring for me than to simply place her in bed with all my love and goodwill. So, I struck out of the "Attachment Parenting" category.  And we were happy...eventually.

After "The Screaming Time" miraculously vanished, my baby girl was the most perfect sleeper you could imagine.  I mean, she didn't sleep through the night until after she was one, but as soon as I would lie her down in bed, she would go right to sleep, no fuss about it.  She still does.

Take 2: The Brandtinator

Mr. Brandt is a whole new animal.  I don't think I could have gotten two more different personalities.  Brandt never would lie right down and go to sleep like his big sis.  Ever since birth, he has had to "sing" himself to sleep.  It's hardly crying, more of a wailing, sing-song with an almost preoccupied note - like his heart isn't really in it.  But cry he must.  If I were to hold him, he would never fall asleep.  He would far rather have a conversation until he died of sleep exhaustion.  Believe me, I tried.  Sometimes I would rock him and he'd drift off but the minute he'd hit the pillow, it would be the end of all things.  There was no defined "Scream Time" this go around because "Scream Time" was every. single. night.  And again, I failed the attachment, "no-cry" parenting camp.  Sorry, ladies.  I gave it my all, but it just wasn't meant to be.  He would go through phases of sleeping 10 hours at a time and then after a road trip or a move, we would start at square one again waking every 3 hours.  At 16 months, he's finally sleeping through the night most of the time. 


Sorry I can't give you my sure-fire method to getting your baby to sleep.  Obviously, I haven't figured it out yet but when I DO, I will let you know.  If anyone saw Charissa at 6 months, they would have been in awe.  I thought about writing a book then - no joke.

All my hopes and dreams have been dashed about writing a no-fail sleep method book.  However, this is what I want to do: I want to encourage anyone in motherhood or expecting motherhood to learn flexibility in "methodology".  Don't read one book and be completely sold on it preaching from the rooftops.  Each baby is different, each one will do well with a different method and perhaps a pick and choose of methods.  I've seen babies absolutely thrive on the Babywise method, I've seen them hospitalized.  I've seen babies thrive on Attachment Parenting, I've seen them become a horribly spoiled full-time job with a "martyr mom".  All of these children had loving parents with nothing less than their child's well-being in mind.  But we have to keep this in mind: a baby is an individual with different needs, different tendencies, and different ways of saying things.  They have gifts, they have purpose, they have a sin nature.  Parents are the same way.  What "worked" for sister might not "work" for brother.  What "worked" for your neighbor might not "work" for you.  It's kind of a guessing game.  It keeps us humble.

I can't find a sleep method in the Bible, even though I've heard various "Biblical" arguments to support one or the other.  But I do know this: seeking to show your children Christ, and our need for Christ in all things, must be the goal of parenting.  That doesn't always mean life will be easy, and it definitely won't be "no-fail" on our part.  In fact, I think that's the whole point - we will fail. 

And the failure that will hopefully spur us on to seek Him more.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

School Ideas: Growing

Charissa is only three, but it's never to early to start learning.  I know this is a very common idea, but I want to encourage you to start growing something with your child, if you haven't already.  This flower box and potting soil where here when we arrived and a friend gave me some lettuce seeds.  Check out Goodwill or garage sales to find a flowerbox - they are much cheaper that way! 

This is a super easy project and produces tangible results.  I will bring them indoors once it gets to cold and it will (hopefully) help to put fresh, green lettuce on our table throughout the winter months.  I'll have a light on them during the darker hours.  I planted one length of the box and then, three weeks later, sowed a second length.  That way, we will have a "staggered crop" of fresh salad for an extended period of time. 

Charissa remembers to water them far more faithfully than I do.  This age is so wonderful - they learn without even knowing it!

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

What Does a Buffalo Say?

Brandt woke at the crack of dawn today.  As I went to the front porch to put his diaper in the bucket, I spooked a bull moose standing very close to our porch.  Brandt and I watched the moose mosey on through the willows and back into the dense woods.  I thought about my camera but there are some moments so natural and beautiful I know a camera just couldn't do it justice.  This was one of those times. 

But a bit later, after we had finished breakfast, we noticed some more visitors - three huge buffalo bulls were having a little conference in our meadow. 


We ran outside to watch.


It's a pretty view to begin with...

Now, since moving here, we have seen literally hundreds of buffalo.  There are just scores and scores of them in the Lamar River Valley when you drive into the Park (Yellowstone that is, we all call it "the Park") and we have occasionally taken a little trip just to watch them.  Did you know they are the largest land mammal in North America?  Here's a close up of one sad daddy.  Kind of like most animals around here, they have quite the attitude.  I've heard the winters can do that to ya.


Well, buffalo are officially Brandt's favorite animal in the world.  Buffalo in his backyard was a dream come true - right, buddy?

"I can't BELIEVE how amazing this is!"

Hey Brandt, what does the buffalo say?

"Whoo!  Whoo!"

Now, buffalo don't exactly say "whoo-whoo".  They actually sound more like a deep, drawn out belch.  But "whoo-whoo" is Brandt's interpretation.  He was so excited, he didn't really mind when they left - just kept speaking buffalo.

"WHOO!  WHOO!"

What a fun place to be a kid!

Friday, September 2, 2011

Sweet Days

Morning smiles!  (She doesn't sleep in there, but has started to climb in every morning!)

Reading with Daddy.

Charissa investigates the buffalo in Yellowstone.

The following are two of the 61 pictures Charissa took when I let her use the camera.


Purple Indian Paintbrush - so beautiful!

Sunset on the mountains behind our home.  The pic doesn't quite capture how the mountains glow, but you can imagine :-)