He Will surely Do It!

A few weeks ago I was tucking my three-year-old son into bed. After brushing my lips against his baby soft forehead and turning toward the door, I heard his sweet voice, “Mommy, when is Baby Sister coming?” My heart skipped a beat at the precious question—there is not a baby in my belly as one might assume from his question. He was asking about Baby Sister who we’ve been talking about for over a year now. Baby Sister won’t have my husband’s eye color or my same skin tone. She won’t be mistaken for a “twin” like our three biological back-to-back, look-alike kids are… Continue reading at Prayer of Hannah

Christmas Guy

Stinkbug says, “I’m the Christmas guy!”
I think he means Joseph or maybe a shepherd. Either way this kid is hilarious.
Every time he sees a nativity scene set up he calls it an “Away in a Manger”– Mommy, look they have an Away in a Manger! And then he gently starts moving the pieces around until they are all surrounding baby Jesus while singing Away in a Manger out loud to himself. 
And I’m treasuring all these things up and pondering them in my heart.

Random Schmattering: Single Parent Edition

Caution: this post contains a lot of potty-talk. If poop and pee bother you, click away, quick!
  • Hubby is out for the week, helping with some disaster relief projects in another city. I am so proud of my husband, and I love his genuine desire to serve others, but y’all— this single parenting thing is not for the faint of heart! Seriously. I don’t think there’s enough coffee in the entire world for this job solo.
  • On a related note: my children are sinners. Amen. (Of course, they get it from they mama…)
  • Tonight (a mere five hours after purchasing a Congrats-you’re-really-potty-trained present for Stinkbug) he pooped in his underwear. And not a nice, clean poop either. Blame the single parenting gig, or my gag reflexes, or just plain laziness, but I threw the poopy underwear into a grocery bag, tied it off, and threw it away. (I’ve also been known to do the same for Tupperware I find in the fridge and just can’t stomach tackling.) Don’t judge.
  • Speaking of the potty… the other night I found Doodlebug playing in a toilet full of pee that his brother did not flush. I fished this toy out of the potty:
After I gagged and washed it thoroughly and then washed it again. I just had to laugh. Did you get it? “Piston”… and it was literally “pissed on”. Hahahahahahahahaha. I need coffee.
  • Also speaking of the potty, I found this in Doodlebug’s diaper the other day:
I’m not really sure how that happened. And I choose to believe that it somehow just got in his diaper without traveling the entire length of his digestive tract… it might take the cake for the weirdest item I’ve ever found in a diaper. 
  • I am tired and ready for my husband to come home. And I can’t wait to go out by myself once he’s home and drink a coffee (or seven) and just exist in silence alone for awhile… but really, I do love my kids. Sometimes I happen upon a moment of sibling endearment and I just stop and wonder at the gift that is these three precious little souls in my care…
Of course, ten minutes later they’re snatching and snitching and hanging on my legs crying while I cook dinner, and then refusing to eat the dinner I make because it’s “yucky”… But really, I do love them. Really. (And what would my blog be without their antics????)

Balloon Fail

This morning was Stinkbug’s birthday party. Before party time, I was sucking down coffee, setting up the table with favors, and dressing the kids. With only 45 minutes to shower and put up some decorations, Hubby told me to get in the shower and let him decorate. How nice of him, right?
This is what I got:
Looks fine at first glance, huh? Look again:
Ummmmm, what the heck kinda balloons are those?
And why in the world would Hubby choose those balloons to decorate for our three year old son and his friends?
So, as nice as it is when your husband offers to do something to help you (especially if the “something” is out of his usual forte: ie decorating for a birthday party), give him a kiss and tell him you appreciate him, and then check his work before all the impressionable young birthday guests arrive.
Lesson learned here.

Boys are (kind of) easy

Tomorrow is a big day- we’re celebrating a certain little bug’s THIRD birthday with an all boy party.

When asked, he knew exactly what he wanted: to go to the zoo and see the snakes and the lemurs, eat hot dogs, play ball with his friends, and eat cupcakes. Easy. He doesn’t even care what kind of cupcakes I make. Very easy.

Today I was browsing Christmas clothes on-line… the boys will be happy in plain red waffle T-shirts from Old Navy. Six bucks a piece and they can be dressed for the holiday. Done. (I spent three times longer looking for something for Ladybug… and it costs three times more.)

Boys can pee outside easily if they need to.

They are completely happy if you keep them fed and let them hold the remote.

Boys have significantly less clothing options and by default care much less about what is covering their bodies causing much less drama during the morning hours when mommy can’t possibly drink enough coffee for drama to be acceptable.

They don’t cry (much) when they get hurt. They’d rather get back up and play.

Picking presents for boys is easy- if it has wheels, shoots Nerf ammo or makes bodily noises, it’s a winner.

So… potty training boys= harder. Everything else= easier.

All Three Baby Bug Names

I have loved every second of picking names for my Bugs.  When I saw Amy’s post about Naming Babies, it made me want to share about our name choices for Ladybug and Stinkbug last year as we waited for Doodlebug to arrive. I have redone this post to include our sweet third baby!

Olivia Grace

(Olive tree, Unmerited favor)

But I am like a green olive tree
in the house of God.
I trust in the steadfast love of God
forever and ever. (Psalm 52:8)

When I was newly pregnant, I was reading verses and passages in Scripture about the blessing of children.  I read Psalm 128, which states that children will be like “olive plants” around the table.  That verse cross referenced Psalm 52:8 in my Bible, and I fell in love with the name Olivia, since it meant “olive tree”.  What a perfect verse for my daughter– I desire that she would be content to dwell in the Lord’s presence, and I pray that she will always trust in His steadfast love.

Olivia being four syllables meant (for me) that we needed a succinct middle name, so her name would just flow.  (OK, so I’m a little nuts-o about the sound of names!)  I think Grace is a beautiful name, and even more beautiful is the meaning that “grace” or “unmerited favor” holds for me and Hubby.  God has given us so much grace in our years on this earth, Olivia’s middle name is a tribute to His graciousness.

Hudson Isaiah

(Bright in mind and spirit, Salvation is from the Lord)

Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:25-26)

When Hubby and I were in college, we spent a summer working with students in China.  In preparation for the trip we read Hudson Taylor’s biography.  We were both impressed with the man Hudson Taylor was and once we were married and pregnant, decided we liked Hudson as a boy’s name.  The passage above from Psalm 73 epitomized to us not only how Hudson Taylor lived his time here on earth, but how we desire our son to live– desiring Christ above all else.  So we chose it as Hudson’s life verse.  (The actual meaning of Hudson is “son of Hugh” or “son of the hooded man”, and Hugh means “bright in mind and spirit”, hence the meaning above.)

Isaiah is our favorite book of the Old Testament, and we liked how it sounded with Hudson as a middle name.  When you add that Isaiah means “salvation is from the Lord”, how could we not choose this name for our first son?

Jackson Luke

(Gracious gift of God; Light)

But as for me, <sup class="xref" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 0.5em; vertical-align: text-top;" value="(AT)”>the nearness of God is my good;
I have made the Lord GOD my <sup class="xref" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 0.5em; vertical-align: text-top;" value="(AU)”>refuge,
That I may <sup class="xref" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; line-height: 0.5em; vertical-align: text-top;" value="(AV)”>tell of all Your works. (Psalm 73:28)

When we were choosing boy names, I had lists of names I liked and Hubby could not agree to any of them. Until I read “Jackson” and he said, “I like Jackson”. It seemed like one of the few names we could agree on, and I liked both our boys’ names ending with “son”. I love that Jack means “gracious gift of God”. I was pregnant and miscarried in January 2010… in March I was having health issues and before going to see the doctor took a pregnancy test just to be sure it wasn’t that. Lo and behold it was positive! Jackson was God’s gracious gift right after my miscarriage. I didn’t even know about him until I was 10 weeks pregnant.

Luke is such a sweet boy’s name, and we both love the Gospel of Luke. Jackson Luke truly is a light in our family and we are so glad to have him as part of us! His verse was chosen on his birthday as it was the only verse I could recall during his C-section. Just as the nearness of God was my good that day, I pray that Jackson would always seek to be near to the Lord.

More poop than you would ever care to read about.

Someone found my blog this weekend by Googling “kid pooping underwear”. I’m sorry that they probably didn’t find any helpful information here because MY KID IS STILL POOPING IN HIS UNDERWEAR.
Really. I am not sure how this is supposed to go. With Ladybug it was easy- she had the promise of a shiny, new toy, and she started pooping and peeing in the potty. Easy. Done. Potty-trained.
Not so with Stinkbug. One day he poops on the floor right in front of the potty. Then he poops in his underwear. Then he poops in his diaper and finishes in a new diaper. I already told you that poop ended up in the laundry which I am still having nightmares about. This morning I cleaned poop off the bottom of Ladybug’s foot which sent me on a hunt to find poop on the couch and on the floor in the living room. I am not sure if it was Stinkbug’s or Doodlebug’s poop, but it doesn’t really matter who pooped, what matters the most is that MY CHILDREN SONS ARE IN A POOP CONSPIRACY AGAINST ME.
I thought I would reason with the potty-training child:
Me: Stinkbug, does it feel good to poop in your underwear?
SB: Yes. (and he continues playing)
So, no dice on the reasoning.
I made a cool new sticker chart to encourage pooping in the potty, so he could earn a toy. Nope.
I have tried to bribe with candy, even upping the ante to two lollipops if he will just poop in the dang potty. No luck yet.
I can’t say I’m surprised. Stinkbug has always been a pooper–as evidenced here by a blowout which resulted in a bathtub full of poopy water and pajamas thrown in the trash:

I’m sure one day as I fret about curfews and driver’s licenses and girlfriends and colleges, I’ll miss these days of fretting about poop. And that thought makes me smile… and almost makes me feel grateful for these poopy days.