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Phones Aren’t for Kids

My kids are visiting their grandparents for a couple weeks. And I’m really loving the break. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk to them.

The kids, however, are much too busy. There is always better stuff to do at Papa and Gran’s than talk to Mom. I mean, would you rather go swimming or talk to your parents? That’s a tough one.

So when we get Isaiah on the phone, it goes something like this…

Me: “Hey Buddy! How are you?!”
Isaiah: “Good.”
Me: “Are you having fun?”
Isaiah: “Yeah.” (said in a monotone)
Me: “Are you taking good care of Leah?”
Isaiah: “Yeah.”
Me: “Do you miss me?”
Isaiah: “Yeah.”
Me: “What’s your favorite thing you’ve done?”
Isaiah: “What?”

Leah is definitely more animated, but delivers about the same amount of info…

Me: “Hey Cheeky!”
Leah: “What?”
Me: “How are you?”
Leah: “Good! We’re eating ice cream! Bye, love you!”

I guess I’ll just talk to them when they get home.

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He Still Needs Me…

My kids are gone. Yes, every morning this week they’re spending 3 hours learning about Jesus, thanks to VBS. I’m pretty OK with that. Especially the quiet house part.

We have a church in Louisville that is part of Mark Driscoll’s Acts 29 church planting network. We like them. They’re a lot different than us, but they love Scripture and think it’s all about Jesus. So they’re a lot like us too.

The description for their VBS said this:

Lessons focus on who Jesus is, why we can trust him, why we need him, and how he sends his people on mission.

Um, yes please. Can I come too?

So that’s what my kids are doing this week. Isaiah wasn’t too thrilled when we let them in on our plans for them. Leah was ecstatic.

I’ve worried about Leah, because I never put her in preschool or took her to library story-time or anything (second child). And she’s starting ALL DAY Kindergarten this Fall. Cold turkey.

But I’m pretty sure my fears were unfounded. Before we left for VBS, Leah exclaimed, “I’m so excited for today.” Isaiah moaned, “This isn’t going to be any fun.” When we got to VBS, Leah was dragging me into into the church while Isaiah tried to sneak out the door (slight exaggeration). Leah announced, “I’m glad Mommy’s not staying.” Isaiah said, “I want to go home with you.”

Turns out my son got my fear of trying anything new. I took him aside and discussed things with him. We talked about how the first day of school was hard, but things got better. And how the other kids didn’t all know each other either (the church has 4 services on a Sunday). And we reached a compromise that I wouldn’t leave until the music started.

So I waited off to the side, probably looking like one of those freaky helicopter moms. But when my son looked back at me and smiled a little because I was there, I can’t lie: it warmed my heart. And when the music began and he motioned me over and asked for a last kiss, it was a sweet moment.

I mean, he’s normally pretty independent. And I doubt he’s going to do that when he’s 15.

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The Prophet Isaiah

Isaiah came downstairs, his eyes all sparkly, and said, “Guess what, Mommy! I just heard Jesus’ voice!”

I asked him what Jesus had said, and he replied, “He said, ‘Yes.'”

Obviously I had to inquire what he had asked Jesus. Isaiah said, “I asked Him, ‘Can you feel my finger?'” and he demonstrated with an extended index finger.

Then he told me, “It sounded really quiet in my ear, like a whisper.”

This is what happens when you name your son after a prophet.

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Pictures For God

Leah brought me a picture she drew and said, “When we go up to heaven, I’m going to give this picture to God.”

She then pointed to the figure at the bottom right and said, “An’ that’s God!”

I noticed that “God” had a heart in His hand, so I asked her about that. She replied, “That means I love Him.”

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Leah and Love at a Birthday Party

Isaiah had a birthday party the other day. One of his friends was new to our house.  He was a sweet little boy and he instantly fell in love with Chester. Apparently he wasn’t the only one falling in love.

I noticed Leah trailing around after him most of the afternoon. Not that I can blame her. He had gorgeous olive skin, huge brown eyes and he was a first grader (you know… older man thing).

When it came time for cake and ice cream, the little boy passed on it, preferring to go play upstairs. It wasn’t long before Leah brought us her plate of half eaten ice cream and said, “I don’t want this anymore,” and ran upstairs to play as well.

The next morning, Leah and I were riding in the car and Leah was chattering away as usual. This is the story she told me:

You know that boy that liked Chester at ‘Saiah’s party? He was soooo cute.

When we were upstairs together by ourselves, we talked about how Chester was being kind because some dogs can bite, but not Chester, because he’s really nice.That’s what we talked about.

That’s why I didn’t want to finish my ice cream. I wanted to go upstairs by him.

Wow. She’d rather spend time with the boy than eat sweets. This might be true love!

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With 4 You Get Egg Rolls

Isaiah got in the car after school and immediately asked, “Can we have egg rolls for dinner?”

I was so shocked I asked him to repeat himself. He did, and then explained that they had been trying foods from around the world at school. He had sampled egg rolls and really liked them.

I almost teared up a bit. I mean, this is big news in our family!

You see, up until today I was the only member of the Davis’s that liked Chinese food. So when I craved it, tough luck. I had to settle for getting Panda Express at the mall or wait until I visited my family in WI. Or go alone, which was no fun at all.

Chris abhors the very thought of Chinese. All because he got food poisoning the first time he tried it… lousy reason. And Leah is neutral. She’ll eat just about anything, but the only food place she begs for is McDonalds, so she’s not much help.

But now I have Isaiah on my side! And Leah is usually on board with whatever her big brother advocates. So I think it’s safe to say it’s 3 to 1 in favor of going for Chinese.

To Christopher: Babe, consider yourself warned. Start gearing up those taste-buds for adventure!

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The (Almost Not a) Princess Cake

Leah turned 4. Not quite sure how that happened, but in honor of the blessed event, we’re having a Princess Party. With a princess cake.

I’m no cake decorator, but I offered a cake with a princess crown on it. How hard could it be? I got a nice squeeze tube of pink frosting to do the trick. I did not read the back of that pink frosting.

Probably should of.

Did you know that when you buy Cake Mate Easy Squeeze frosting, that you also have to buy (or have on hand) Cake Mate decorating tips… to attach to the frosting? I didn’t.

I just assumed it would come with a nice pointy tip so that I could draw beautiful frosting designs all over my cake. But that was obviously not going to happen, so I looked at Chris and said, “I think I can make it work.”

And I’m pretty good at making things work. This isn’t the first time I haven’t read the packaging. I’m almost a professional wing-it girl!

It might not have been quite the look I was going for. But I think Leah will be happy. Especially because my way means double the frosting in each bite!

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Lost in Translation

Today, I was listening to a Bill Johnson sermon while I did dishes. Leah was quietly coloring at the table, when Bill Johnson said something about the “agenda of Holy Spirit.”

Leah looked up from her picture and exclaimed, “Agenta?! Hey! That’s on Blues Clues!”

“Do you mean Magenta?” I asked.

The pinkish-purple puppy was indeed who she thought Bill Johnson was preaching about. Makes you wonder about her other thoughts on theology!

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Heartbreaking.

This morning, Chris was trimming his beard with an electric razor. Leah, sitting in the kitchen eating her breakfast, could hear the whir of his trimmer.

“When is Daddy going to be done shaving?” she asked mournfully.

I asked her why she cared and she replied, “It breaks my heart!”

Mystified, I asked her if she was afraid he was going to cut himself. Her face became confused. She’s never seen Chris clean shaven, so the possibility of him cutting himself wasn’t even on her radar. I quickly assured her he wouldn’t get hurt, before we had something new to freak out about.

Then she went on to explain, “It makes me cold.”

So apparently the sound of the razor gave her the shivers and the best explanation she could come up with was that it broke her heart! Mystery solved.

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