Tattoo

When we moved to this church, I knew I would love the old lady that sat behind me in the sanctuary.

She sang really loud.

She talked even louder. Sometimes I could hear her over K.

When I reminded her of my name for the 5th time, she said, "I just can't remember that name. I'm going to have to get it tattooed on my left boob."

I introduced her to our kids. She repeated each of their names very slowly, laughed, and announced, "I'm really glad you didn't name me!"

Soon after we moved here, she found out she had cancer. She broke the news by saying, "I'm gonna die soon. We better get to know each other quick." A wink and a smile followed.

She went on bed rest, and I brought her some food. She rated her food gifts from 1 to 10, and she told me I got a zero.
When I told her I felt bad, she smiled, and said, "You need to be tough if you want to be on my team."

K had visited there one night, and didn't really mention it. The next day, she whispered, "I was dancing and partying with your husband last night! It was such a good time!" She deemed him a good dancer, and demanded I make it a goal to see just how good he really was.

She called my husband her boyfriend.

She died less than a month, I think, after they discovered her cancer.

I didn't get to know her very long, but I did learn this from her:

It is OK to let people know who you REALLY are right up front. If they don't like you, well...then you got that out of the way right away. No pretending necessary. If they do like you, well then....good....we'll have lots of fun being who we really are together.
I needed to be reminded of that when we moved to this church, because I didn't meet the expectations I think people have for a pastor's wife. I don't sing. I don't smile all the time. I don't wear dresses to church. And I don't have the youth group over every weekend.

I was starting to think maybe I needed to work on some of those things...

Then I met Pat.

Now, I'm working on not mentioning my boobs until at least the time AFTER I introduce myself.

Also? Don't ever try to search for an image of "B**b Tattoo" in Google. Sheesh!
I should've learned. Once, I was searching for an image of my favorite band, Bare N*ked L*dies. That was a shocker too.

Tidbits of Wisdom from B

Miss Erin (the kids' teacher) said she is working on teaching the kids about appropriate responses to their emotions. For instance, if you are angry, you should Stop, Breathe Deeply Three Times, and then think of Something That Makes You Happy. I, being the teacher-supporting mom that I am, decided to follow up at home:
Me: "B, what would you do if someone took a toy from you at school?"
B: "I would knock him down. And throw rocks at him."
Me: "Is that what you've been learning at school with Miss Erin?"
B: "No, we hafta do that though..."
Me: "Um, I'm pretty sure you don't have to do that. Do you think you can think of a better response? Or no?"
B: "Nope", (with that "I'm right, you're wrong" look on his face).
Me: Silent, still trying to figure out how to respond to my kid's smugness...
B: "God helped that little guy knock the giant guy down with stones though....So I hafta..."

Oh. Right.

----------------------

B: "I like fish, Mama."
Me: "I do too."
B: "Yup, you hafta take off the fins, and eyes, and mouth, and teeth, and tail, and then we like fishes, right?

Sure, that sounds really appealing.

Annoyance

Things I have been annoyed at lately:

1. I gave the kids a treat, saying, "Good job staying dry all day!" (This is really a bribe for Z, who has been peeing his pants again. The other two just get free treats because of Z's recent potty mishaps.) Z exclaimed, "Thanks, mama!"

And then peed on the floor of the living room as soon as he finished his treat.

2. Last night, I went to bed early, because I was fall-on-the-floor tired. I woke up to notice S's bathroom night light wasn't on. I got up to turn it on. I couldn't fall back asleep. Finally, I drifted off, only to have S wake me up two times to tell me she had to poop. I then woke up to the fan doing some weird clicking sound. I turned it off. K had a nightmare, and woke me up yelling at some crazy sleep image. An hour later, B and Z woke me up to say they were scared and needed to be prayed for. Z woke up at 530 am, turned on the light (which is also B's light) and started playing. S told me she had to pee at 6 am. Z and B were up at 730 am, not only laughing WAY too loudly, but jumping as hard as they could off of Z's bed.

My Babies

Just a little over three years ago, my babies were tiny, tiny. They couldn't breathe on their own. They couldn't eat without being tube fed. They couldn't regulate their own temperature.

Today, they headed off to school. PREschool, but still.

I had nightmares all night. B getting beat up and no teacher to notice. S having to pee and not knowing who to ask. I dreamed they wouldn't let me even come in to see their classroom. "We need our privacy", the crazy, green-haired desk lady spat...

I always have to poop when I am nervous. I was almost always late to Speech class if it was my turn to speak. I had to poop first. And right before my wedding. Right before I got baptized. As soon as I get pulled over. And today. Our kids were late because their mom was so traumatized by the idea of her kids going off to school that she had to run back and poop.

Do you want me tell you how it was when we got there?

It was fine.
The kids start school by eating breakfast together. Baldwin is the poorest community in Michigan, and most schools try to assure good concentration by starting the students out with a good breakfast.
They get to serve themselves....it is all served family style. They think they are big.
They sang and listened to Miss Erin read a story.
They chose between painting and dress-up or blocks and sand toys.
They played with stuff at the science table.
They played outside on the swingset.
And they brushed their teeth. Twice.

They loved it.
Preschool was not nearly as traumatizing for them as I might have imagined. I am ok now.
So are they.