my help

School started up last week for Annike. First grade begins the wild world of full day school. Off she goes.

On that first day while she was gone and my younger two were napping, I sat on the couch with my Bible, by myself.  It felt like a small miracle to be alone. I teared up with emotion, and all of the mixed sentiments of the day... worry, exhaustion, gratitude, relief, sadness at witnessing the arrival of yet another year.

That moment sitting on the couch was a healing moment. There was peace in my home, and I was allowed some space in a frantic world to process all of my emotional extremes. The moment ended shortly thereafter as the baby awoke early from his nap and refused to go back down. But in those minutes spent reflecting on our summer, I felt a huge sense of relief that we were exiting it and all the chaos that accompanied it. Summer is a wonderful time of fun and freedom, but we are all ready to have the reigns pulled back restoring some sense of order and routine in our lives, if for no other reason then our ability to once again enjoy occasionally breaking the routine.

At times, parenting three children is one of the most stressful things I have ever done. I can only imagine what it is like to have four, or six, or more. It brings multi-tasking to a whole new level, like trying to have a different conversation with five people at once giving them each your undivided attention. Take any serene moment, and there is an equally disastrous moment unpredictably lurking behind it. Like yesterday afternoon when we were all playing nicely in the backyard, engaged in our respective happy tasks, and all at once one child has thrown sand into the eyes of another child. The child with sand in her eyes is screaming in pain while the other child is rebelling with the knowledge she is waiting to be disciplined. Meanwhile the baby has discovered a nest of ants and is quite literally covered in them. The disciplined child is sent inside where she has an accident in the bathroom. As the meltdowns occur, everyone also appears to be both tired and hungry. Only 60 seconds have passed since the world was a place of calm. Now all is calamity.

It is difficult to know what to tackle first. I find myself just wanting a little help. Why is no one helping me? Why are there suddenly so many tasks to complete and not possibly enough minutes in the day to complete them while caring for these young people? and caring for my husband? and sometimes caring for myself? It is the feeling of being overwhelmed by all of the things that need to be done and the truth that I am completely incapable of doing them all at once, let alone doing them at all.

In that frantic moment I do not remember that God is my help. No, I am too busy being angry that my daughter has peed on the floor while she was having a tantrum, and being frustrated that my other daughter doesn't know how to communicate with me when she is in pain, and being worried that my baby is getting bitten by ants or choking on a pebble because I left him outside. In that frantic moment I succumb to the lies that I cannot do it. I have forgotten the truth that God is my ever-present help. He hasn't left me, or you, alone in the overwhelming present. He has not fallen asleep while we are left to tend to the mess.

I will lift up my eyes to the hills--

From whence comes my help?

My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

He will not allow your foot to be moved;

He who keeps you will not slumber

Behold, He who keeps Israel

Shall neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is your keeper

The Lord is your shade at your right hand.

The sun shall not strike you by day, 

Nor the moon by night.

The Lord shall preserve you from all evil;

He shall preserve your soul.

The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in

From this time forth, and even forevermore.

Psalm 121

In that healing moment on the couch, relief flooded me as I remembered that I do have help. There will be plenty more overwhelming moments in my future. But they will be peppered by moments of peace, in which I have space to remember, and hopefully internalize, the truth.

.........................................................

It is ridiculous, of course, to entertain the notion that I don't have any help. Karsten himself has entered the very helpful stage of 11 months old. Below are some photos to prove just how helpful he truly is...

Here he is helping me load the dishwasher...

and helping me sort laundry...

and helping me reorganize the children's bookshelf...

and helping me clean the shower...

and helping me change the toilet paper roll, a favorite task of his...

and helping me dig in the garden, sampling plants as he goes to be sure that they are edible...

And just in case you have forgotten what it is like to live with small children in the house, this video is a reminder. How does anyone ever do it without this kind of helpfulness?

tribute to kindergarten

School is out! Summer is in!

Annike flourished throughout this year of Kindergarten. It is shocking to think that a year ago she did not want to go anywhere without her blanket. She did not know many of her lower case letters, or any math. She has learned so much over the past year that she even initiated writing and illustrating her own "books" that she liked to take in to read to her class. Ha!

Throughout the year our budding zoologist incorporated her love of animals into any activity possible. While her classmates were painting rainbows, Annike painted sea otters diving for urchins in a kelp forest. During a popsicle stick building craft, most of the kids made a boat while Annike constructed a lizard. At least she has a clear understanding of what she likes!

Mostly, we are pleased about who she is becoming as a person and a friend, with a growing awareness of others. A few comments we have heard about her recently include that she is a cheerleader, truly rooting for her friends... that she is not competitive with the other girls, giving them sincere compliments... and her teacher says that somehow she manages to stay out of the drama that sometimes arises between girls in the classroom setting. That means more to us as her parents than any academic accomplishment.

That being said, here are a few of my favorites from the last few months. Some completed at school, some completed at home. All of them inspired by her love of learning and love of animals. I will let them speak for themselves.

Below, our tribute to kindergarten:

Kelp forest 

"Look at the elephant. He is picking up water with his trunk."

"I love all my stuffed animals."
Notice green blankee is drawn on the far left.

"The flamingo is pink and he's drinking."

Forest scene

Probably close to 20 of these books have been created over the year. All animal-themed.

Savannah Book with inside pages

Sea Life book with inside pages

Notes like these are beginning to appear around the house.

Invitation to a "pardee" (party) where we will dance and pretend to be fish.
Can't wait.

Poor baby Karsten. She loves him too.

Left for me on a post-it.

Another season, gone with the wind. Thank you, kinder years, for all that you have given our daughter. A fresh breeze blowing into a girl who will be a life long learner.

Good-bye Kindergarten. Hello 1st grade!


Aside: There have been issues with people trying to make comments on this blog. I believe I have fixed the problem. If you don't have a google account, you can leave a comment in the "anonymous" category and be sure to include your name. Thanks!

first week

We made it through a whole week of kindergarten!

Don't let the picture fool you... she survived all five days of school without her blanket!

On the second morning before school, Annike was cuddled in her special living room chair still waking up, and I told her, "It's time to get ready for school now."
She looked at me with wide eyes and said, "I have school again today?!"
Uh Oh, I thought. We never got past discussing the first day, did we?... 
I said, "Yep! School again today."
And she shocked me by giving an emphatic, "YAY!"
Phew. We narrowly escaped that one...

Most surprisingly, there has been no drama about clothing this week. Each day Annike comes home and can't wait to take her school clothes off... and Sommer can't wait to put them on.

The saddest part about this week were the tears that came from Sommer each morning as Annike went out the door with Papa. Sommer put her shoes on and banged on the closed door crying, "Please! School! Please! School!" The first day she stayed sad all morning, but her moping time lessened as the week went on. Still, she would periodically say, "Sad. Anka leave."

This time is good for all of us in many ways, and it feels like a necessary season we are entering. Annike has energy to spare and school seems to be a great outlet for that energy. Such a good outlet that I can't get her to tell me anything that happened until a few hours after she has lunched and rested and played by herself for a while. It is utterly silent in the car on the drive home, which is something new for us. Though I admit it is a strange feeling to have utterly no idea what has happened to my daughter over the course of those 3 hours each day, considering I have known what she was doing every waking moment for the last 5 years.

Sommer and I are getting some precious bonding time during these early morning hours. I am trying to take special advantage of the time I have with my second-born child, alone, in this final month before the baby arrives. She is truly a delight... when she isn't pitching a monstrous fit about something or other. Those are her two modes of operation: delightful, and little monster fit pitcher. We aim for the former as much as possible.

This start of school has begun a new and healthy routine in our lives. Entering a new and somewhat busier season always causes me to self-reflect...
What are we choosing to emphasize as we settle into a daily routine?... more than simply waking up earlier and getting to bed on time at night.
Are we making time to sit with one another and listen?
Are we pausing to get hugs and kisses?
Are we creating the space in our day to be with God? as a family? as individuals?
Are we rushing anxiously into the next thing or taking the time we need in our transitions?

On the other hand... I am trying not to get too settled into any new and wonderful routine because our world is about to turn upside down with the addition of a 3rd child. May God give us wisdom each step of the way!

kindergarten

When I wrote about Annike's tears and worries before her first day of preschool, I received more comments via email than ever before. Something about this tender-hearted girl's sadness about going off to school struck a chord with people who know and love her.

Fortunately, we had the most fabulous preschool teachers I could ever have dreamed up for my daughter. They even let her carry her green blankie, A.K.A. "Sniffy", around with her and greeted it at circle time by name. Thank the Lord for creating women like this to be in our children's lives! Preschool teachers are a special breed of people and have a unique understanding of kids at this sensitive age.

 

It should come as no big surprise, but she really did grow to love preschool, though it took until December before we could drop her off regularly without tears or begging us not to go. It was finally in January, after the dinosaur lesson where the teachers set off a volcano that exploded over a handful of toy dinosaurs, when Annike came home and said "I wish preschool was everyday!"

Now we sit on the eve of her first day of Kindergarten. Annike seems quite a bit more ready for this day than she did a year ago. She understands that green blankie will be left at home, and doesn't seem nearly as upset about it as she thought she would be. Her biggest concern is that she will have to wear clothes every day, a uniform at that. But I have informed her that the clothing-no-longer-optional day was inevitable whether she started school or not. She will get over it in a few months time.

We thought having Sommer model Annike's new school uniform would help. I guess we will find out tomorrow...

I did find renewed faith in her readiness when I overheard her this week telling Sommer with a sing-songy excited voice, "Sommy, next week I get to go to Kindergarten!"

It is I who am the one feeling sad now, in a nostalgic letting-go kind of way. The first day of Kindergarten is a milestone in a child's life. It marks the end of those carefree, agenda-less days and the beginning of a decade or two filled with schooling. It is the first year of retainable memories from childhood. It is the end of informal education and the beginning of the formal kind. Less and less are the parents the main educators as this day begins a child's transition to being influenced more and more by people outside of the parents' realm of protection.

In some ways this sadness seems silly because it is really only 3 short hours a day and she probably already knows half of what she is going to learn this year. But I do feel nostalgic. I think I get it from my dad because the story goes that on my first day of Kindergarten, my dad cried as I got on the bus. My mom was apparently just excited because her new piano was being delivered that day. Now that I am experiencing this momentous day on the side of the parent, I can't believe they actually put me on the BUS with all of those big 5th graders on my first day of school!! What were they thinking??!

Aaahh, but clearly I survived even the bus.

Well, Annike-dear, that day has finally arrived when school will be every day. This day is the same one you were crying big crocodile tears over as you snuggled your blankie a year ago. You are almost 5 years old now and you are indeed ready to step bravely into your first day of Kindergarten. It reminds me that not a single one of these days we have had at home together have been wasted. Some of those days were long and tedious, some fun and packed with laughter, some filled with tears for no reason or short tempers or frustration. But not a single day has held wasted time because you and I were growing together. Now I have to trust that we are doing our best to fully equip you for this little world that you will learn to love and that you will surely find a special place in. We love you just the way you are, so don't grow up too fast!

wings

Christian was out one night last week and it was therefore my responsibility to put both children to bed.  After much longer than I had intended feeding and rocking Sommer (bedtime has never been easy with that child), I escaped the baby's room and went out to search for Annike.  I found her in the living room sobbing large crocodile tears into her green blankie while she rocked herself on the couch.

My immediate reaction was to ask, Are you hurt?

No, she said.

Why are you so sad?

I am thinking about one day when I have to go to school, she replied with all of the heaviness a three-year-old's voice can hold.

One day I will be five and then I will have to go to school without Sniffy.  And I will miss you, she sobbed into my arms. Sniffy, by the way, is her green blankie.  Named for why she likes it... sniffing.  Kids are funny with their attachments.

My heart broke as I listened to this little person and her giant worries. How can a small child carry around such a heavy load? Her fears about her future and worry about the unknown were big-person-sized.

We've had a few instances like this. In fact, every time we broach the subject of school, she ends up in tears. Once a very long time ago I told Annike that she would go to school one day and I would miss her. She has never forgotten that I said this and took it upon herself to prevent that day with vehemence. It is no coincidence that this particular night of tears came only a few days before her first day of preschool. Apparently all of the anxiety of anticipating this day has been weighing quite heavily upon her.

We talked about it. We prayed. We shared scripture.  Do you know that Matthew 6 came up again? (see my last post)

"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, 

and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 

Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?... Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself..." Matt 6:26-34

It turned into a special time of bedtime-bonding. I have great compassion for this little person. She takes the world seriously, which will be both a help and a hindrance in her life. I wanted to sweep her up in my arms and tell her I will protect her forever, but it isn't true. Eventually she will learn that our troubles just keep growing as we do. I can't take her troubles or her worries away, but I can teach her how to handle them, and Who to go to with her burdens.

Preschool started on Tuesday and to everyone's surprise she did great! With a kiss and a hug goodbye for me, she let me leave with no tears. But clearly my prediction long ago was true, because I am the one who feels sad.

Here I sit reflecting on how precious my time with her has been in these years without school. I can never get that time back with her... that time when she was under my wing alone... that time of innocence when she was untouched by the influence of her friends... that time of freedom from schedules and commitments... that time of  never needing to leave the house before 10am... that time of having my little best friend around to keep me company and bring purpose to my days at home.

There was no rush to end that time together, and yet, for some reason, our culture says there was. I wonder, is there anyone else out there who feels that pressure to push their little ones out of the nest too soon? It is a mystery to me why this pressure would be pervasive, to get our children knowing more, learning younger, moving into the next greatest thing that would probably be just as great if we waited.  Then again, waiting has never been a human strong point. It doesn't always come naturally understanding the goods and the bads in the messages that bombard us.

I don't want to sound too dramatic, because it is only preschool for 2 days a week.  It was, indeed, the right decision for us at this point in time. But there have been quite a few extraneous influences in our decision-making.

Big sigh. This was Annike's first day of preschool, and it turns out that I cried more than she did.

Notice that green blankie made it into the picture. We decided she could keep it at school in her cubby, but when I picked her up at the end of the day, it seems that Sniffy had found its way out of the cubby, becoming a rather permanent accessory. But no tears, and that was worth something.

These are the only pictures we got because, seriously, who has time to take pictures on the first day of school? Did I mention that preschool starts at 8:30am? We somehow slept in until almost 8.  We live 20 minutes away. You do the math. My children are my alarm clock and it is against my strategy for self-preservation to awaken them. I am guessing it takes some practice to get out of the house with two kids by 8am.  As always, we are a work-in-progress.

In the meantime, I still have many days ahead of me with one or both children at home. I can spend those days wishing for some time to myself (yes, people, it happens to me quite often), or I can master my ability to treasure my children and my role with them while they remain under my wing. Like it or not, these days are numbered.