Pragmatic Compendium

Warning: This is L O N G. You may need a nap in the middle. Or at least a snack.

Here’s two things I read this past week.

The first, in an email sent to me from FirstHusband:

A woman died and was sent to heaven. One day while she was walking around on the clouds of heaven she saw God. She walked towards him and she stopped to talk to him. She only wanted to ask one question of him. So she asked, “Why did you create man before women?” God looked down on her, placed his hand on her head and explained, “Every good design needs a rough draft.”

(Yep. That’s FirstHusband. - Gotta love him!)

The second, in Chapter 6 (read it online here) of the book, The Excellent Wife, written by Martha Peace:

“Woman was created for the man, not man for the woman.”

Then Mrs. Peace notes 1 Corinthians 11:7-9 as support for her statement. According to her book, 1 Corinthians 11:7-9 reads like this:

“For a man is the image and glory of God; but the woman is the glory of man. for man does not originate from woman, but woman from man; for indeed man was not created for the woman’s sake, but woman for the man’s sake.” (emphasis added)

I looked these verses up on www.BibleGateway.com in an attempt to figure out which version of the Bible Mrs. Peace was quoting. The closest I found was from the New American Standard Version:

7 For a man ought not to have his head covered, since he is the image and glory of God; but the woman is the glory of man. 8 For man does not originate from woman, but woman from man; 9 for indeed man was not created for the woman’s sake, but (C)woman for the man’s sake.(emphasis added)

Why does she misquote scripture here?

Because quoting the beginning of verse 7 would call attention to the context? Check out verses 5 and 6:

5 But every woman who has her head uncovered while praying or prophesying disgraces her head, for she is one and the same as the woman whose head is shaved. 6 For if a woman does not cover her head, let her also have her hair cut off; but if it is disgraceful for a woman to have her hair cut off or her head shaved, let her cover her head.

The head covering verses? Seriously. The head covering verses? Verse 7 was misquoted to avoid reference to the head covering verses? Mrs. Peace is a big chicken. And I know that of which I speak. I’ve been a big chicken myself.

I’ve been following along with a study of this book, currently lead by Leslie at Lux Venit. I haven’t posted until now, because I’ve been the odd “man” out. And I’ve been chicken. FirstHusband’s email has given me courage. So did Leslie’s commentary:

“Honestly, this chapter left so much to be desired. Peace packs too much into this chapter without giving much in the way of explanation. I read this chapter four times and still finished just as frustrated the fourth time as the first. Peace offers a verse or two on which to base her statements, and that’s it. She uses the controversial 1 Corinthians 11 verses without any helpful interpretation, and verses from Ephesians that Paul himself calls “a mystery.” A woman without any prior knowledge or understanding of these verses would be very confused.”

I’m not confused. I’ve just lost some confidence in the author of this book. It’s not just Mrs. Peace. Overall, anyone (book authors included) who makes a declaration of God’s will without supporting their point with the Bible loses credibility with me. And when they misquote scripture or take it out of context in their attempt to support their point? Not working for me.

Here’s the thing. I spent years in the Baptist church, accepting and believing everything that was taught to me, without question. When I met FirstHusband (ChristianFriend at the time), he challenged me. He was ornery. He would draw me into theological discussions and take the opposing view, just to see if I knew why I believed what I believed. I don’t like losing. And I was losing those debates. A lot. (He later told me he was “testing” me and that I was the first Christian girl who didn’t slink away wondering if he was a Christian when he asked them difficult spiritual questions.)

So as a result of all these discussions, I started asking my pastor and other Christians lots of questions, reading my Bible more, reading commentaries . . . learning. Grounding my faith in Biblical wisdom instead of heresay (not heresy). Taking responsibility for my beliefs. Today, I no longer accept what others say without question. (Oprah has no power here.)

So if Mrs. Peace wants me to view her words as fact or truth instead of opinion, she needs to prove them. Convince me. Show me. In the Bible.

She’s not convincing me. Rather, she’s prompted me to double check her use of scripture.

Wary, but undeterred, I move on. I pass by the diagram showing how we are made in God’s image because it was so unbelievably simplistic, until I realize the graphic is being used to set up for the next one. Mrs. Peace is quoting a retired professor from Columbia University who compares the relationship of man, woman and God to the Holy Trinity. My first response was to be creeped out. But wait. Let me think on this one a few minutes.

I’m liking it. Very cool. Check out Professor Hatch’s breakdown for yourself:

The planner who makes the plans—God the Father.

The one who carries out the plans—God the Son.

The one who also carries out the plans as well as keeps and empowers Christians - God the Spirit.

In the Trinity, of course, there is perfect harmony. All are satisfied with their roles. There are no “power plays” or role confusion. Note how the Lord Jesus describes both His work and His role as well as that of the Holy Spirit:

“We must work the works of Him who sent Me, as long as it is day; night is coming, when no man can work.” John 9:4

Jesus therefore said, “When you lift up the Son of Man, then you will Know that I am He, and I do nothing on my own initiative, but I speak these things as the Father taught Me. And He who sent Me is with Me; He has not left Me alone, for I always do the things that are pleasing to Him.” John 8:28,29

“But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said to you.” John 14:26

Also, within the Trinity, it is interesting to note who gets the glory. The Holy Spirit did not come to call attention to Himself but to Jesus.

Jesus said, “But when He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all the truth; for He will not speak on His own initiative, but whatever He hears, He will speak; and He will disclose to you what is to come. He shall glorify Me; but He shall take of Mine; and shall disclose it to you.” John 16:13-14

In addition, Jesus did not come to call attention to Himself but to the Father.

“I glorified Thee on the earth, having accomplished the work which Thou hast given Me to do.” John 17:4 (emphasis and red letter added)

Empower? I use that word all the time to describe my training philosophy. I can relate. I can also deal with the idea that I should “empower” my husband. Very cool.

Then I notice the word “helper.” That’s from the New American Standard version. It appears Professor Hack is attempting to call attention to the similarities between the word “helper” as it applies to the Holy Spirit and how it applies to the role of a wife. Is that an appropriate comparison? Going over to www.blueletterbible.com, I look up the word “helper” used here. In Greek it means “paraklētos” and I’m grinning because the part of speech for this word is “masculine noun.” And it’s being sited as a word for the role of a wife in marriage. But what does it the word mean? I also find the outline of Biblical usage for paraklētos:

1) summoned, called to one’s side, esp. called to one’s aid

a) one who pleads another’s cause before a judge, a pleader, counsel for defense, legal assistant, an advocate
b) one who pleads another’s cause with one, an intercessor

1) of Christ in his exaltation at God’s right hand, pleading with God the Father for the pardon of our sins

c) in the widest sense, a helper, succourer, aider, assistant

1) of the Holy Spirit destined to take the place of Christ with the apostles (after his ascension to the Father), to lead them to a deeper knowledge of the gospel truth, and give them divine strength needed to enable them to undergo trials and persecutions on behalf of the divine kingdom

okay. I’m dense. I’m still not clear on how this applies to the role of wives in marriage. I go straight for the Greek definition: “comforter, advocate.”

Okay Prof Hatch. I can be that for my husband. I try to be that for him already. And even though I’m saying that on the internet right now, I really don’t need to take any credit for it either. Is that what you’re saying? I’m okay with that.

I move on again, because even though I’m not down with Mrs. Peace at the moment, I’m not ready to stop reading her book yet and I am gaining new perspective. I am however, very aware that it’s Professor Hatch who led me to that new perspective, not Mrs. Peace. He made a statement and backed it up - with the Bible.

After the last quote by Professor Hatch (shown above) - in both the printed book and in the online text of this Chapter, Mrs. Peace doesn’t clearly indicate that she has stopped quoting Prof Hatch and has gone back to her own thoughts again. It’s always confusing when a writer does that, but in this case, I figure it out immediately because of what she writes:

So, Just as Christ glorified the Father by doing the Father’s “work,” you are to glorify your husband by doing the husband’s “work”. Your role is to glorify your husband. You were created for him.

And now I’m creeped out again. It’s the word “glorify.” Not EVER a word I have considered when thinking about what I do for my husband. Back to www.blueletterbible.com (I love this site!). Glorify, in greek it’s doxazō and the Biblical usage is:

1) to think, suppose, be of opinion
2) to praise, extol, magnify, celebrate
3) to honour, do honour to, hold in honour
4) to make glorious, adorn with lustre, clothe with splendour

a) to impart glory to something, render it excellent
b) to make renowned, render illustrious

1) to cause the dignity and worth of some person or thing to become manifest and acknowledged

Okay, some of it I get (although if I tried to “clothe” FirstHusband “with spendour” I don’t think it would go very well. Something like bathing a cat.)

But still. The word “glorify” creeps me out. I’ll stick with the word “honor” (#3 above) if that’s okay with you.

I’m also confused about what Mrs. Peace means when she says I’m supposed to be doing my husband’s “work.” Why does she put quotes around the word “work?” Jumping over to page 55 of the book (towards the bottom of the page in the online text), I see the “Eighteen Ways a Wife May be the Glory of Her Husband.”

okay. Let’s take them one by one.

1. Ask your husband, “What are your goals for the week?”
2. Ask your husband, “How can I help you to accomplish these goals?”
3. Ask your husband, “Is there anything that I can do differently that would make it easier for you?”

I’m good with all three of these, given my freakish organizational nature and textbook communication skills. I don’t think a weekend goes by where FirstHusband and I don’t talk about what’s going on during the upcoming week. So, these are great ideas. Not Biblical directives but good, solid ideas to strengthen a relationship and make a household run more smoothly. For a week, at least.

4. Be organized with cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry, and cooking. As you fulfill your God-given responsibilities, your husband is then free to do his work.

My “God-given responsibilities” are to be “organized with cleaning, grocery shopping, laundry, and cooking?” So the fact that my husband and I share these tasks means what? I’m outside of God’s will? What does it say about my husband? What does the Bible say about the yardwork? In our house, we’ve figured out a division of responsibilities that works for us. If I were to do all the household chores by myself, FirstHusband would come home to me sitting wide eyed and comatose, needed a shower and saying “ba baba ba, baba . . . ” (remember that scene in Overboard with Goldie Hawn?). Besides. That Proverbs 31 woman? She had “servant girls” - not “girl” as in singular, but “girls” as in, more than one.

And why is there no mention of ANY of the responsibilities that come with raising children? Seriously. I found the word “children” ONCE in this chapter. In #6 below, where she says I’m to put my husband before my children. Even then, sometimes that’s not possible. When an infant depends on one of your body parts for food, you have to feed them, even if it means your husband has to wait.

So for all the wives and mothers out there who are exhausted at the end of every day, who smell like curdled milk, who want to know how to get dried caramel off the seat of their van, who don’t remember what it’s like to go to the bathroom by themselves or without someone talking to them with their lips pressed to the crack in the door, who accidentally wear mismatched shoes to work, who just don’t seem to ever put themselves on their own to-do lists and who pro-actively strive to run an efficient, but loving home . . .

You need yourself some servant girls. No servant girls? Then, no condemnation for “failing” to “Be the Glory of your Husband” because you can’t cross this #4 off your list.

And that’s all I have to say about that. (for now.)

Back to the list:

5. Save some of your energy every day for him.

Again, a good, solid idea from Mrs. Peace. But it is dependent on how #4 works out for me on a given day. I try, but truth be told, there are times when my kids “swim down together” and wear. me. out.

6. Put him first over the children, your parents, friends, job, ladies’ Bible studies, etc.

We are a team and we work together to accomplish the goals we’ve set for our family. We’re each other’s best friend. We raise our kids together.

7. Willingly and cheerfully rearrange your schedule for him when necessary.

If one of us needs the other to be somewhere, we are - if at all possible (unless he’s out of town). Sometimes we make concessions. For example, I’m scheduled to sing at a Mother’s Day Brunch on Saturday. We recently bought a boat. So you know what he wants to do on Saturday. But he doesn’t want to go without me. Do I cancel because I’m supposed to put him first? Should I have said no to the commitment in the first place? He says no to both of those questions, because he’s encouraging me to use my gifts in ministry (#17 below), so I’m going to go glorify God Saturday morning.

8. Talk about him in a positive light to others. Do not slander him at all, even if what you are saying is true.

We Never. Never. Never speak negatively about each other to other people. We may tease and kid sometimes, but never in a way that might hurt each other’s feelings or betray our confidence in the other.

9. Do whatever you can to make him look good, to accomplish his goals. Some examples are offer to run errands for him, organize your day to be available to help him with his projects, pray for him and make good suggestions. Give him the freedom not to use your suggestion, and do not be offended if he does not follow it.

We’ve got each other’s back and do these things for each other. However, I know that I have more flexibility than some women when it comes to organizing my day to be available to help him. A woman with a full time job won’t have that same flexibility.

In our house, FirstHusband and I both do these things. I don’t see how any of these are unique to women. This is what committed, married, Christian husbands and wives should do for each other. We know it’s work and we consciously strive for it.

10. Consider his work (job, goals, hobbies, work for the Lord) as more important than your own.

Because he works full-time and I work part-time, this is easy for me. Any woman who relocates to follow her husband to a new job does this. However, I know there are women who haven taken on the role as the primary bread-winner and their husbands have adopted the role of homemaker. What about them?

11. Think of specific ways that you can help him accomplish his goals. Examples are get up early in the mornings to help him get off to work having had a good breakfast, take care in recording telephone messages for him, anticipate any needs he may have in order to attain a specific goal, and keep careful records of money spent to keep up with the budget.

For our house, these examples are meaningless. I just focus on numbers 1 and 2 on this list and treat my husband with courtesy and respect. I try to do random acts of kindness for him - every day.

12. Consider the things that you are involved in. How do they glorify your husband? Ask his guidance.

So the things I’m involved in should glorify my husband and I should ask him for guidance to stay on track with that? I’m not sure what Mrs. Peace means. I shouldn’t be involved in activities my husband doesn’t support? This is an easy one for me because FirstHusband is very supportive and there’s not much he has asked me not to do. Oh! He asked me not to dye my hair red, so I won’t.

Neither one of us take on commitments which impact our daily family life without discussing it first. We have family “policies” we’ve adopted over the years to help us make decisions quicker. Like, each kid can only be involved in two extra curricular activities at any one time. We don’t make commitments which have us out of the house on school nights. I work as a consultant, but my husband isn’t involved in my daily business dealings. He doesn’t want to be. We talk about our work challenges and successes, and we offer each other advice and encouragement, but we don’t get involved in each other’s work much more than that.

13. Be warm and gracious to his family and friends. Make your commitment to him obvious to them.
14. Do and say things that build him up instead of tear him down.

Again with the good, solid ideas. But again, not unique to women. It’s just what people who love each other should do.

15. Dress and apply your makeup in an attractive manner that is pleasing to your husband.

This is a tough one for some women. I admit, when my kids were little (babies and toddlers) it was more difficult to fit in self care. I did smell like curdled milk sometimes, but I often couldn’t fit in a shower until FirstHusband was home to take over kid care. Since I turned 40, I’ve been changing some things. Maybe I’ll post about it someday.

16. When your husband sins, reprove him privately and gently, always giving him hope and pointing him to the Lord.
17. Encourage him to use his spiritual gifts in ministry.

FirstHusband and I do both of these for each other. We have a conflict resolution model that we learned when we were dating and we’ve been using it for 18 years. We’ve both memorized the steps and are actually very good at fitting a conflict into the model very quickly. It’s just something we do instead of fight or yell at each other.

We also encourage each other in ministry - as it fits with our goals for our family. When his schedule permits, he volunteers with a mentorship program. We’ve taught Sunday School together. I’m a vocalist, but because of our commitment to be home on school nights, I don’t sing in the choir or with the worship team. Rather, I perform solos. I can rehearse in the car, on my own time - not during family time. I also spoke and lead music at a few retreats, but quickly realized I didn’t want to be away from my family for weekends, as retreat leadership would require. It just doesn’t fit with our family priorities right now.

18. Realize that just as God is glorified when man obeys Him, your husband is glorified when you obey your husband.

Glorified? Still creeped out. Honored? Perfect.

Obey? It’s easy to “obey” someone when they put my needs before their own. I’m blessed that FirstHusband does that for me. He has never authoritatively “ordered” me to do anything. In our relationship, we don’t “defy” each other’s wishes. We respect and support each other’s preferences, goals, ideas . . . you get the idea.

All in all, an interesting list. However, NO scripture to support the items on the list.

Moving on again, Mrs. Peace is discussing the effects of the fall of man, one of which is “a power struggle between the man and his wife.” She quotes scripture again, but adds her own parenthetical comment:

“Yet your desire (to control or overtake) shall be for your husband, And he shall rule (to have power) over you.

Genesis 3:16, emphasis and
parenthetical comment added”

So first she leaves something out of quoted scripture and makes no mention of it. Now she’s adding to scripture and, while telling us that she’s doing so, she doesn’t tell us why. I want to know why. I’ve always read that scripture in a very straightforward way. “Your desire shall be for your husband . . . ” Why is she saying that desire means “to control or overtake?” She doesn’t say. I read that section again. She doesn’t say. I read Chapter Six again. She doesn’t say. I have to hunt for it, so it’s back to www.blueletterbible.com for the meaning of the word “desire.” The Biblical Usage is referenced as:

1) desire, longing, craving

a) of man for woman
b) of woman for man
c) of beast to devour

Of beast to devour? Okay, then. Never heard this verse interpreted this way. The Greek word for desire is “tĕshuwqah” with the root meaning “shuwq” meaning “overflow.”

Again, I’m dense, so I Google “shuwq” and come up with this: “From shuwq; a street (as run over)“

Not getting any better. So I search for commentary. Wow. I get it. All the commentaries I read pretty much said the same thing, but here’s the bottom line: This same word for desire is used in Genesis 4:7 - the desire of sin to master over Cain.

Okay, Mrs. Peace. NOW I understand why you added your parenthetical comment to Genesis 3:16.

Then she gets back to the obey and submit stuff. When I saw the diagram with the crown and the little church on page 54, I waited for felt to fall out of the book. Okay. That was mean. I know. But she could have saved me a LOT of time by providing a reference for her parenthetical comment about Genesis 3:16 and its relationship to Genesis 4:7. Mrs. Peace is making it difficult for me to understand her book without searching out additional resources. Leslie went in search also and discovered Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood. Check her post to her recommended reading of this great resource.

THAT was long. If you’re still with me . . . THANKS! And . . . if you did make it all the way here - and you haven’t clicked away, thinking “what a heathen!” - I would love to know your thoughts!

(Chapter Six is not the first, but rather the most recent pause I’ve taken while reading this book. I’m not sure if I’ll work backwards from here and explain - simply because it’s almost summer and I will have children standing between me and a complete thought for 2 1/2 months. We’ll see.)

“Dear God, please help Mamaw understand that real freedom is about caring and sharing with your family and who you love. Please help Pappy not be sad and help him be okay that Mamaw is going away . . .

Then the sweet talking that only happens at bedtime. She is snuggled up under the covers with the stuffed animal chosen tonight, petting a cat who somehow knows she needs him right now, in a dimly lit pink room, with soft music playing. Her night light is a 2 foot Christmas angel, dressed in white, holding a candle lit by a small bulb.

“Mom?”

“Yeh, honey?”

“I love Mamaw, but is it okay if I like Pappy more?”

“Yes, sweetie. I know you love Mamaw, but you do more stuff with Pappy, so it makes sense that you like to spend time with him more. He does lots of fun things with you.”

“I know you’re supposed to love everyone in your family, and I really do, it’s just that Pappy really understands my imagination and he’s the best drawer ever! He can draw anything! He even helps me draw hard stuff.”

“I know. I love Pappy’s drawings too.”

“Even though some of my family lives in Georgia, I still love them too. They live far away and I love them, so now Mamaw will live far away and I can still love her. But some people in my family are more fun to play with than other people. Like TeenageGirlCousin is lots of fun and CollegeBoyCousins are lots of fun to play with but that doesn’t mean that I love them more, it just means I like to play with them more, right?”

“That’s exactly true. I know you love your family and that you love Mamaw too. But I understand that some people are more fun to play with. That doesn’t mean you don’t love the people you don’t play with. I know you love your Mamaw, but I also see how much fun you have with Pappy, and he really does understand your imagination. You’re right.”

Thinking. Petting the cat.

I kiss her soft, sweet smelling cheek , say goodnight and go into the office right next to her room to wait on her to fall asleep. Minutes pass.

“Mom?”

“Yeh, honey?”

“Just checking.”

“Okay. Goodnight honey. Love you.” (yes, sweetie, I’m still here)

“Love you too.”

We told PinkGirl today.

My parents were coming over to borrow FirstHusband’s truck. My dad was helping my mom by picking up a bed given to her by a friend and they needed the truck. So we knew PinkGirl would be seeing her grandmother. We knew that my mom would be leaving in 8 days and we knew we couldn’t put it off any longer.

FirstHusband and I sat down on the floor of the family room with our coffee and asked PinkGirl to come sit with us. We wanted to talk to her.

“Why?”

“Because we want to talk to you about something.”

“What?”

“Well, if you come and sit down, we’ll tell you, silly.”

She sits, looking at us suspiciously.

“You’re not in trouble, don’t worry.”

“oh.” Grin. Giggle.

Now this is all meshed together, so realize I’m pulling things from my memory and they may not be (probably won’t be) in order. And some of the conversation is missing.

“Mamaw (pause) is very unhappy (pause) and she has been unhappy for a long time, she’s just been pretending she was happy. She has decided (pause) that she doesn’t want to be married to Pappy anymore (pause) and that she wants to live in her own house. (pause) Her new house is in another state.”

Silence. Eyes watering. Now she’s in my lap. Arms around my neck, face in my shoulder.

“Why?” (oh. How I have been DREADING this question.)

(pause) then almost simultaneously, FirstHusband and I say, “We don’t know.”

“Why can’t she just stay married to Pappy? Why can’t she just tell the marriage people, ‘Yes, we’re happy?’ When the marriage people ask them, ‘Are you happy?’ they could just say ‘Yes, we’re happy.’ and then they could still be married. They could still live together.”

“Sweetie, (pause) Mamaw and Pappy are already divorced.”

Head buried in my shoulder. “I don’t want a grandmother anymore.”

“oh, honey, why not?”

“Not if she’s not married to Pappy.”

“Sweetie. She’s still your grandmother, even if she and Pappy aren’t married anymore.”

“But why does she have to move away? Does she not want to be with us anymore?”

(Second and third most dreaded questions.)

FirstHusband and I both, first talking over top of each other and then taking turns: “No, honey, this has nothing to to with us . . .” (and all the other stuff you say to kids when you want to assure them that divorce has nothing to do with them.)

“But why does she have to move away?”

I take this one, “We don’t know honey. (pause) What reasons can you think of?”

“Well, maybe she doesn’t want to live in Florida anymore.”

“That could be one reason.”

“Maybe she wants to live where it snows.” (PinkGirl saw snow for the first time in March.)

“Maybe. That could be another reason.”

Then.

“Maybe she just wants freedom.”

“Freedom? What do you mean by ‘freedom’?”

“Like, freedom to live by herself. In her own house. And not share it with anybody.”

We’re speechless.

“PinkGirl, that is VERY smart.”

Then, silence. Thinking.

FirstHusband says, “PinkGirl, we need you to know that Mom and Dad will NEVER get divorced.”

“But what if you . . . “

“Nope. Never. You know who my best friend is?”

PinkGirl points at me.

“Yep. Mom is my BEST friend.”

“And Daddy is MY best friend.” I add.

FirstHusband continues. “When you are thirty and have finished college and YOU get married . . .”

“Da ad!”

“. . . you need to make sure you are marrying your BEST friend. And you need to date for a long time so you know how he handles things when you disagree with him. Marriage isn’t like Sleeping Beauty, where you are singing and dancing in the forest with a Prince. Marriage isn’t always exciting. You need to make sure you want to be married to him even during the boring times and during the hard times. You need to date a long time and make sure you marry your best friend. “

I jump in, “And most of all, after you get married you have to work really hard at being married. People who get divorced start having trouble being married a LONG time before they actually get divorced. Mom and Dad make sure that we fix the tiny problems when they first happen, so that the problems don’t last and last or get bigger and bigger. If you make sure you work out little problems when they happen, you can stay best friends. (pause) Do you know what Daddy told me once? He said that every day, he asks himself a question. He . . . Daddy, you tell her.”

FirstHusband says, “Every day, I ask myself, ‘What can I do to make Mommy’s life easier or better today?’”

I pop back in, “Daddy does nice things for me all the time. It’s one way he shows me he loves me. I try to do nice things for Daddy too.”

Silence again. Thinking.

“Maybe Mamaw doesn’t know that real freedom is sharing.”

We are speechless. Again.

Then I say, “PinkGirl? You just figured out something really important about life.”

Small Grin. Silence. More Thinking.

“Can I ask Mrs. FirstGradeTeacher to pray for Mamaw? To pray that she will understand that real freedom is sharing?”

“Remember when we talked to Mrs. FirstGradeTeacher last week for our conference? Well, we told her that this was going to happen and you know what she’s been doing? She’s been praying for you.”

Grin. Then recognition.

“You knew already? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I knew you would be sad, so I didn’t want you to be sad for a long time between finding out and Mamaw moving, so I decided to tell you later, so you wouldn’t be sad for so long.”

“When is Mamaw moving away?”

“A week from tomorrow, honey.”

Tears again. “Why didn’t you tell me THEN? Now I have to be sad for a whole week!”

(Do I know my daughter or what?)

Snuggle hugs, and then I say, “PinkGirl, Mamaw and Pappy will be here in a little while, are you okay with that?”

Thinking. Then, “Well, just act normal. I don’t want to cry in front of her, so act like you told me, but that I’m not freaking out.”

“So you don’t want to talk about it with Mamaw?”

“No. If I talk about it, I’ll cry.”

Then Daddy says, “Hey, there’s something not fair here.”

PinkGirl looks confused.

But, I get it. “Mommy has been getting all the snuggles.”

PinkGirl climbs into Daddy’s lap for a huge hug.

Strategically, I ask, “Hey, would you like to invite someone over to play today?”

“YEAH!”

PinkGirl spent the rest of the afternoon playing with two friends - sisters. Happy. She went to bed without “tummy worries” as she sometimes calls it when she is upset over something.

There’s still the farewell to go through. But today? She’s doing okay.

Me? I can’t stop thinking about this.

I am a champion.

I took the kids to the dentist yesterday. A pediatric dentist. Let me give you a little background. When we first took PinkGirl to the dentist, it didn’t go well. I couldn’t fit into the tiny room to be with her and, while SHE was perfectly silent, the hygienist repeatedly said, “sit still” and “open your mouth” with all the compassion and verbal expression of a rock. I couldn’t see anything and I didn’t know what was going on other than the fact that she wasn’t being still enough and that her mouth wasn’t open wide enough.

When she was done, PinkGirl came out into the waiting room, buried her face in my hip and cried silently. We never went back.

I found a pediatric dentist and, while the first visit was difficult because she had to overcome her fear, she left smiling, with a sticker, a colorful pencil, a balloon, a pink toothbrush and a bag of other dental “prizes.” We’ve been going to the pediatric dentist for a few years now. The chairs are set up in one big room, parallel to each other and there is a long bench along the wall, at the foot of the chairs, for parents to sit. So I can sit right there, in front of my kids while they have their teeth cleaned.

Yesterday, 7 year old PinkGirl bopped right in and sat down in the chair, smiling. She’s not afraid of the dentist. The hygienist approached her and, speaking very sweetly, said she needed to take pictures of her teeth. This would be the first time. They tried to do it last time, but the film physically wouldn’t fit into PinkGirl’s mouth. She whispered to me, “Is it going to hurt?” I said, “It doesn’t hurt, it’s just not very comfortable to hold the the film in your mouth.” The hygienist took her time, chatting with the other hygienists along the way, but finally, the xrays were done. I saw PinkGirl’s shoulders drop with relief that it was over. Then the hygienist said, “See? Wasn’t that EASY?”

That’s not a real question. That’s called a “counterfeit question.” What possible response was PinkGirl going to give? There was no wiggle room. Although devoid of enthusiasm, she gave the expected answer: “yes.”

Tangent. I HATE that. I HATE it when someone asks a child that question when the child has clearly just overcome a challenge. It devalues both their effort and their fear. I especially hate to hear it in swim class, when a child has FINALLY done something they’ve been working on for a while. okay. I’m done. for now.

PinkGirl comes straight to me for a hug. I know that was hard. That’s a tiny mouth for that big piece of hard cardboard. I said, “That was so brave! I know that was difficult, but you did a really good job! I’m so proud of you!” I get eye contact and another hug. She knows I know.

The hygienist starts cleaning PinkGirl’s teeth and after only a few minutes I see it. Her toes are pointing straight up, her heels are pressed down, her legs are stiff as a board, her hands are clenched, she’s breathing fast and her eyes are WIDE open. The hygienist casually asks, “You doing okay?” to which PinkGirl respectfully replies, “mmm hmmm.” The hygienist continues for about another 30 seconds and I get up, walk around to her, lean in and say, “PinkGirl will never tell you she’s uncomfortable. She will always agree with you that she’s okay.” The hygienist says okay and I wonder if she gets it.

Clearly. She does not.

I say, “I think we need a break.”

“Why?“

“PinkGirl seems a little stressed.”

Then. Head back, eyebrows in a frown. Defensive posture.

“So what do you want me to do about it? SHE says she’s fine.”

I say, “OH NO YOU DI ENT!” (to myself)

In real life, I say, “You’re going to have to trust me on this. She needs a break.”

So hygienist gets up in a huff (I really think she huffed) and walks over to the central desk to pretend she wasn’t talking about me to the other hygienists. (She stunk at it.)

The dentist comes, examines PinkGirl and they laugh. PinkGirl is happy. Relaxed. Unafraid. Then the hygienist comes back and with a “tude” in her voice, asks, “So do you want me to finish her cleaning?”

While PinkGirl pleads “no” and clings to me, I peel her off, gently set her in the chair and say, “I think we should talk a minute first.” The hygienist is standing there, hands on her hips. I’m thinking she’s slightly defensive.

I say, “It seems like you’re a little defensive. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’d like to explain what happened, if you’ll give me another chance.” (I cannot write what I was saying “to myself,” but trust me when I tell you it wasn’t anything close to this appropriate, textbook approach. I taught college level communication for 7 years, and when I’m not upset, I can apply communication theory to real life situations fairly well. When I’m not upset. Keep in mind, I had a few minutes to cool down and rehearse while the dentist examined PinkGirl.)

The hygienist’s shoulders drop the defensive posture and she says okay.

I go straight for the step 4 of my conflict resolution model (one day I’ll post it) - state the undisputed facts:

“Her toes were pointing straight up, her heels were pressed down, her legs were stiff as a board, her hands were clenched, she was breathing fast and her eyes were WIDE open. She was showing physical signs of stress. When we first came to Dr. KidDentist, PinkGirl was very afraid, but you guys turned that around. Every visit here has been positive. Until today. We can’t go backwards now.”

Without any “tude” she asks, “What do you want me to do differently?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t paid close attention in the past because PinkGirl never had any problem. I don’t what might be different today.” (thinking to myself - “I don’t know what you are doing wrong.”)

“Would you like me to get another hygienist to finish the cleaning?”

“Can you tell from her record, who might have done her cleanings in the past?”

“Sure.“

Long story short. Another hygienist finished the cleaning.

PinkGirl’s feet were limp the entire time.

And she’s confident that her mom championed her. I think she’ll remember. Especially when she’s a mom herself.

We’re going to have to tell her.

Soon.

We’re going to have to tell my sweet 7 year old something that will cause her to grieve. It will prompt a sadness in her that I won’t be able drive away with hugs or snuggles. I won’t be able to distract her, to make it better or fix it. It’s a loss she won’t understand. It’s a loss I don’t understand. It just is.

Thank you to Jenn at Mommy Needs Coffee for sharing this amazing post from Breed ‘Em and Weep. It was only after I selected these paragraphs to highlight that I realized Jenn had chosen some of the same words to quote:

Tomorrow we will tell the girls about a difficult loss. It is a peculiar thing to sit on the edge of your child’s bed, watching her sleep, knowing that tomorrow you will say something that will stop her heart briefly and force her through a door she would not have chosen herself. Children do not take kindly to loss, and why should they? As adults we can barely stand it, barely have the ability to comprehend the who-was-who-now-isn’t, the what-was-that-now-is-lost . . .

. . . I rock some more. I think: Loss is loss; there is rarely recovery. Recovery is a myth; change is what comes after a loss, not recovery. There is merely change . . .

. . . I would stand between them and the losses of the world if I could. This is why I cry. Because I am clever; I know well how to create secret compartments and tuck away unpleasantries as needed. It has not served me well over time, not really, but I have a talent for it.

My parent’s divorce is final as of today. My father will continue to live in the home they shared for the last 30 years, twenty minutes away. My mother is retiring and moving to a new home, which is a two day drive from us. She will be leaving on May 11th. Yes. That is Mother’s Day.

11 days from today.

FavoriteSon already knows. But, we are going to have to tell PinkGirl.

soon.

I’m disappointed. She’s embarrassed. But at least she apologized. I still had to talk to my 7 year old about it.

I began the conversation by telling PinkGirl that “Miley let a photographer take a picture of her holding a blanket in front of her - but she wasn’t wearing a shirt.”

PinkGirl’s response?

“Why?”

Can’t answer that one. But we talked about the possibilities.

Miley issued a statement apologizing to her fans, but what’s done is done.

I’m just as uncomfortable with the photos Bill Reilly talks about. There’s no “art” to “misinterpret” (Annie Leibovitz’s response). These are a glimpse into her personal life. Her personal, private life. In this age of cell phone cameras and digital photography, personal privacy is much more difficult to maintain and demands the highest level of discretion.

PinkGirl and I have a LOT more talking to do.

This goes out to the next mom whose child says: “Oh! Mom! I forgot to tell you. I need to take in some food to school tomorrow.”

“Food? What kind of food?“

“Laos food.”

“Laos food? As in ‘food often eaten by the people of Laos?’ (I pay attention. I saw the PowerPoint show he already turned in. over. and over. and over. again.)“

“uh huh.”

(I just stare at him.)

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t talk, I’m thinking about how you are going to make this up to me.”

So I participate in the internet search because I know I’ve got to go to Publix later and I would like to actually FIND the ingredients for the “Laos food.”

I just have one thing to say: YUM!

Check this out:

6 bananas, sliced
2 1/2 cups of coconut milk (look in the ethnic food section of your grocery store)
4 tablespoons of brown sugar
1 teaspoon of salt (I just sprinkled in a tiny bit)

Pour the milk in a pan and add the brown sugar and salt.
Heat till warm and the sugar dissolves.
Add the bananas and cook over low heat for 5 to 10 minutes.
Serve warm.

And again. YUM!

The coconut milk and brown sugar thicken and the results are . . . almost good enough to let FormerFavoriteSon off the hook for doing the “oh yeah, I need it tomorrow” thing.

Almost.

Click Here for a print friendly version of this recipe in PDF,

I’m adding this to Kitchen Tip Tuesdays over at Tammy’s Recipes!

When I wrote the post entitled The Underwear Principle and now, underwear. step by step., I mentioned that I had applied this principle in other situations in my life. One of those situations involved my son.

FavoriteSon attended a Montessori pre-school from age three to five. The Montessori philosophy encourages independent work and allows the students to physically move around the classroom during the day. The “lessons” are clearly defined as separate activities with very specific, step by step instructions which follow the “left to right” and “top to bottom” concept employed by reading. The classroom was lined with low shelves on which sat rows of restaurant trays. On each tray were most, if not all the components of each lesson. It was the perfect learning environment for FavoriteSon at the time. (There’s a lot more to the Montessori philosophy, but I’ve covered what relates to the background of my situation.)

When it came time for 1st grade, we moved FavoriteSon to a traditional classroom environment at a non-denominational Christian school and it quickly became apparent that he was having a difficult time making the adjustment.

Someone, I don’t remember who, used the term “ADD.”

So I applied the The Underwear Principle:

Step 1: I didn’t approach the situation from any pre-conceived notion of how things “should” be. I opened my mind to the possibility that I DIDN’T KNOW what the problem was. I didn’t assume that my current knowledge and past experiences were enough to lead me to a conclusion, a diagnosis, a punishment strategy, or a resolution. I admitted that the “answer” might be different than anything I could think up on my own. Even worse, I had to consider the possibility that my parenting style was influencing the situation as well. (yeah. not liking that idea.)

Step 2: I tried to stay focused on the fact that my little boy wanted to learn. He wanted to behave appropriately. I understood that he was faced with an obstacle he couldn’t overcome without our help. We didn’t punish him or lecture him. We didn’t want him to feel defeated by school in the first grade.

Step 3: I analyzed what was happening. I took into account as much information as I could - the actual behaviors, the time of day, any possible cause and effect or trigger, his seating assignment - if there was ANY information available, I wanted to include it in my analysis.

The classroom layout was structured and decorated very differently from what he had experienced before, with the “lines” for each learning activity now blurred. There were no more distinct, individual tasks or lessons. Rather, unrelated information surrounded him on every wall. Not only was FavoriteSon no longer encouraged to move around the classroom during the day, but now he was actually discouraged from doing so. No more independent study or activities. Now, everyone worked on the same lesson together. When the teacher spoke to the children, she most often spoke to them as a group, rarely speaking directly to each individual child and making eye contact. The teacher reported that FavoriteSon frequently spoke out during class - but often, when he did so, it appeared as if he was talking to himself. He sometimes didn’t seem to hear her when she spoke to him. He often continued with lessons and activities after the teacher had concluded and moved on to the next lesson. Almost every morning he disrupted the class by talking to his classmates.

Step 4: I began researching the possibilities. I read books and articles, searched the internet, talked to other parents, teachers, counselors and even kids. The first thing I did was read some books on ADD.

FavoriteSon was displaying a few signs of ADD. One I noticed immediately was “hyperfocus.” If he was fully engaged in a task, he didn’t seem to notice anything around him. That’s what he was doing when he continued the lessons after the rest of the class had moved on to the next activity. I used to do that as a child when I was reading, and I never thought much of it. But FavoriteSon took it to the extreme. If he was interested and engaged in what he was doing, it was VERY difficult to get his attention. And not so much fun to get him to stop the activity. So what did this mean? Was there anything I could do about it? Back to the books.

I zeroed in on Chapter 10, Addressing the Imbalance: Non-Drug Treatments for ADD, in the book, “Running on Ritalin,” by Lawrence H. Diller, M.D. In the section entitled Behavioral Training: An Indispensable Tool, he suggested an interesting concept: (emphasis added)

Structure tasks into smaller components. For example, instead of telling a child, “Clean your room,” break the job down into stages: “First pick up your clothes off the floor and then put them in the hamper.”

I had an “Ah HA!” moment. I realized that, for my son, the instructions “Clean your room.” or “Do your homework.” were:

1. Too abstract. With so many things to do in order to accomplish that task, he was paralyzed and didn’t know where to start.

2. Too overwhelming. The job seemed bigger than it really was.

3. Too confusing. We didn’t have the same ideas with regard to what “clean” was when it came to his room. To him, it was clean. There were just toys and clothes on the floor.

(I read a LOT more and talked to a LOT more people, but it’s just too much to relay here. I’ll note some book resources at the end of this post.)

Armed with a plethora of information, it was time to turn all this knowledge and theory into action.

Step 5:
First, I wanted to rule out any physical problems, so I took FavoriteSon to the doctor for a checkup and had his hearing checked. His pediatrician didn’t discover anything unusual and his hearing was fine.

Secondly, I tried Dr. Miller’s suggestion to break things up into smaller components. I started at home. I gave short, step by step instructions for chores, homework - even bathing:

Instead of “clean up your room,” I said, “Pick up all your Rescue Heroes and stand them up on the shelves, please.” The first time, I said “put them on the shelf” and he PILED them on the shelf - but he had done what I asked. After a few times, he started to put all the water guys on one shelf, all the firefighters on another . . . my freakishly organized tendencies manifesting themselves in my son. I was so proud.

Instead of “Do your homework.” I said, “Hmm, how old are you? 6? If you do 6 math problems you can play for 12 minutes.” The first time he did his 6 problems in less than 5 minutes. After a few times of this “little bit of homework, little bit of play” he did his 6 math problems, I set the timer for 12 minutes and when the time was up, I said, “Hey bud, it’s time for 6 more problems.” He grinned and, without even looking up from the video game he was playing, he said, “Nuh uh. I finished all my math.” Little stinker had done ALL his math problems in one sitting. Because when he sat down to do them, he was only faced with the small, manageable task of completing 6 of them. (microactions, gotta love ‘em) I wondered why it took him a little longer that day. I just thought the problems were harder.

Instead of “Take a shower.” I said, “Pop in the shower and get your hair wet, please.” followed by “Get some shampoo in your hands and make bubbles before you put it on your head.” He used to spend way too much time in the shower and come out dry and dirty. Now, he had a clear understanding of what to do. I just walked by the bathroom door every few minutes to remind him what he was supposed to do next. If I didn’t, he would get distracted and we would hear him singing - and not washing.

It was amazing. Everything I asked FavoriteSon to do, he did. Fast. With fairly good attitude. So, I spoke to the teacher and explained what I had learned and what we had tried at home. She began modifying the way she gave instructions and reported that she noticed immediate, significant improvement. Lessons were completed, there were less instances of hyper focus and generally, he was doing better in school.

But he was still talking in class - to himself and to the other kids. I recalled something I read in Dr. Miller’s book, Running on Ritalin:

“The family of drugs to which Ritalin belongs - the stimulants - has been both a blessing and a blight on humankind. The stimulants, which include such drugs as caffeine, cocaine and amphetamine, are so named because of their generalized effects on the body’s organ systems, particularly on the heart, blood vessels, and brain. Stimulants increase blood pressure; they make the individual less sleepy. Stimulants such as coca leaves and tobacco have been used for centuries by indigenous peoples for there energizing, pain killing or medicinal properties. Many of us can’t start the day without our hit of caffeine.”

I drink coffee every morning. At least two cups. And we’re not talking 8 ounce cups. Who’s to say FavoriteSon couldn’t have a little Coke instead of a little Ritalin? And weren’t those tiny little half size cans just perfect for this little experiment? Bingo. He had his little can of Coke during snack every morning and the talking lessened. Significantly. (He was in 1st grade, did you really think he would completely stop talking in class?)

A few years later, we had his vision checked and found out that FavoriteSon was nearsighted and needed glasses to correct his vision. Was that another problem for him that we didn’t discover at that time?

So, looking back, I’m not sure. Did FavoriteSon have mild ADD? Or did he, like his sister, have problems with his blood sugar? Or both? Did his experience in Montessori school lead to some of the problems he had adjusting to the traditional environment? Was I a bad mom all those years for not realizing that one of the reasons he seemed so disinterested looking at alligators in the lake we drive over was because he couldn’t see them?

I’m not going to spend time on the diagnosis (or blaming myself) now and I didn’t focus on it then. What I DID do was take action. I applied The Underwear Principle, step by step.

For us, it worked. And make no mistake, as nice and neat as this wrote up, we didn’t live it out so smoothly. See, it’s easy to do all the stuff we did. But to do it consistently, over and over and over, every day, without giving in?

Now, THAT. Was hard.

Running on Ritalin by Lawrence H. Diller, M.D.

Should I Medicate My Child? by Lawrence H. Diller, M.D.

The Myth of the A.D.D. Child, 50 Ways to Improve Your Child’s Behavior and Attention Span Without Drugs, Labels or Coercion by Thomas Armstrong

Beyond Ritalin, Facts About Medication and Other Strategies for Helping Children, Adolescents, and Adults with Attention Deficit Disorders by Stephen W. Garber, Ph.D., Marianne Daniels Garber, Ph.D. and Robyn Freedman Spizman.

Thanks to my longtime friend, Renee for the following reminder. This is what I was feeling and talking about when I wrote the devotions “i want no regrets” and “what’s next?” on Pragmatic Communion.

“A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous “yes.”

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

“Now,” said the professor as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things—your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions—and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.

The sand is everything else—the small stuff. “If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Spend time with your children. Spend time with your parents. Visit with grandparents. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first—the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled and said, “I’m glad you asked.”

The coffee just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend.”

I’ve heard this story before, but with rocks instead of golf balls. I had never heard the ingredients include coffee before.

Renee, since we live so far apart, we’re gonna need to have “virtual” coffee. Don’t you just LOVE free mobile to mobile?

A while back, I posted a youtube video of a dad, named David Crawford singing Pachelbel Bedtime, about bedtime at his house with his two daughters. I discovered the link was broken and fixed it, but in the process, I found out he is making a CD! When I find out more about it, I will definitely post. If he actually records a CD, I’ll let you know where you can get one!

I also found his version of Flight of the Bumblebee, about a trip to the toy department with the family. Too funny. SO FAST! My daughter couldn’t understand the lyrics, so I typed them up for her, but I’m stuck. I posted them below the video. Can anyone fill in the missing words? Did I get the rest right?

daddy can I have it, oh I need it, can I have it
will you get it for me daddy, I can’t live without it daddy,
it’s so pretty and I love it, will you buy me what I covet,
I’ll be good, I promise daddy, if you let me have it
I need it and I want it, I can’t believe I never bought it
it’s the newest __________, and it’s the bestest of the best
and there not a toy that I want more in this entire toy store
and there’s a sign that’s on the box that says for a limited time

no no no no no no, no no no no no,

I’ll go ask my mom, and then I’ll tell on you, cause you are mean, very mean to me.

mommy can I have it, oh I need it can I have it,
will you get it for me mommy, I can’t live without it mommy,
it’s so pretty and I love it, will you buy me what I covet,
I’ll be good, I promise . . .

tell me what did daddy say, tell me what did daddy say,

daddy, daddy he said no, but he was being very mean.

you never let me have it, what I want you never give me,
you don’t like me, you don’t love me and you wish you never had me
if you loved me then you’d buy it but instead you made me cry
it happens every single time, I don’t know why I even try
I’m gonna fuss and scream and shout, I’m gonna whine and moan and pout
and then I’ll pitch a little fit, and then my eyes are gonna squint
I’m gonna lay here on the floor cause you don’t love me anymore
you never buy me any stuff and when you do you it’s not enough
what did I ever do except to love and honor you
you never let me have my way, you never listen anyway

you’ve got at least a dozen dolls like this at home
you never play with them, they sit there all alone
you can act this way while we’re inside the store
cause the cameras they are all set to record

but when we get into the van, I’m gonna whip your little can
unless you get up off the floor, cause I can’t take this anymore

instead of buying that new doll, we can go home and play some ball
so let’s go home

PinkGirl caught my germ. And she was NOT happy about it. She caught it on Wednesday. Wednesday is play rehearsal day. Wednesday is the day she and two of her friends (sisters) play and sing in the car all the way to rehearsal - and back. Wednesday is usually a REALLY fun day.

Except this week PinkGirl had a fever of 101.2 and a really bad headache. She went to the school office at 2:00 p.m. and they called me on my cell to tell me. I was in the car pool line to pick up one of the play rehearsal friends who goes to another school. I had to call the friend’s dad and tell him, which threw a major monkey wrench in his afternoon because he then had to drop everything and come to school to pick up his girls and take them to play rehearsal because I couldn’t. I had to take care of PinkGirl (and try to keep the friends from catching the germ).

When I got to PinkGirl’s school, she immediately began crying when she saw me. She knew.

“Can you just give me medicine and let me go anyway?”
“I don’t get to ride and play with FRIEND1 and FRIEND2!”
“But my head is only hurting, I can still sing and dance!”
“I’m going to miss EVERYTHING!”
“Please! Mom!”

and many more tearful pleas as I continued to wipe her tears and say, “I’m sorry honey.” over and over again.

We got her brother out of school a little early and headed home. I had already made an appointment with her doctor for first thing Thursday morning (just a few hours before mine). We spent the rest of the evening curled up in a chair together, with breaks to take FavoriteSon to youth group and back.

Thursday morning, I scooped her up at the last minute, wrapped in a blanket and tucked her into the pre-warmed van to take her brother to school and then her to see the doctor. Everything went like clockwork until we got into the waiting room. We were the second patient to be seen and were sitting comfortably - until I looked at PinkGirl. I had just enough time to push her jacket in front of her before she ralphed. Only the jacket got it. She hadn’t eaten anything, but she did drink some water in the car. I walked her in the bathroom, and after a few minutes, she seemed stable, I washed out the jacket, and asked for a bucket on the way back to the waiting room. I ran out to the car and switched out the wet jacket with another one (it’s a minivan, there’s an entire wardrobe in there). I didn’t even have time to sit down before she lost it again. I tried to convince her:

“Honey, let’s get a room by ourselves for some privacy.”

“NO!”

“Come on, sweetie. I”ll carry you.”

“NO! I’m not going!”

She was not going to move in case she ralphed again. I ran back to the bathroom for wet paper towels and to ask for a room on the way. They were smart and called us in. She laid down on the examining table, shivering, so I spent the few minutes waiting on the doctor by wrapping her in my jacket and putting my arms around her to keep her warm. She had a pretty good fever going on.

The doctor came in and examined her while I told him what I’m just getting over. He says it’s a virus, but he wants to give her an antibiotic to prevent any secondary infection. And she should have a shot for nausea to prevent more vomiting.

Shot.

Tears. Pleading. More Tears.

This is the same girl who, twice before, when she was 4 and 5 years old - actually CHOSE the shot because she didn’t want to vomit. I try to talk to her, but she’s starting to freak out. I tell the doctor I’m going to hold off and if she vomits again, we’ll be back. PinkGirl immediately calms down.

So we left. She buckled up in the middle of the backseat and laid down with a pillow and a blanket (it’s a mini-van, there’s an entire linen closet in there). We drop off her prescription, I pick up some breakfast at McDonalds, and with a few minutes to kill before the prescription is ready, I stop at Target to buy movies. I left her in the van alone for the first time EVER. I locked her in and I actually ran into Target, grabbed 4 movies, paid for them and got back to the van in less than 8 minutes. She had fallen asleep. I picked up her prescription and drove to my doctor’s appointment.

In the parking lot at my doctor’s office, I wake her up and she immediately ralphs again. Perfectly calm, she says, “I want the shot.” I take a risk and give her the anti-biotic and a dose of ibuprofen with pseudoephedrine (it’s a mini-van, there’s an entire pharmacy in there). I dump a plastic container and hand it to her, just in case (it’s a mini-van, I had my choice of plastic containers - it’s like a dishwasher on wheels). I call my doctor from the parking lot to cancel my doctor’s appointment, drive back to HER doctor, get the shot, drive home.

I get her tucked in on the couch and put Ella Enchanted (movie #1) in the DVD player. We get to Ella’s rendition of “Somebody to Love” and I peek. Sound asleep. I pause Ella, mid performance and PinkGirl and I crash for two hours.

I have to wake her again to pick up her brother from track practice. We drive through Sonny’s BBQ for take out and, although she still has a fever, she EATS! We go home and finish watching Ella Enchanted, follow-up with a movie-long snuggle while watching Aquamarine (movie #2) and then more medicine and off to bed.

Today is Friday and PinkGirl woke up with a fever of only 99 degrees! Just in time to be better for daddy, who’s been on a business trip since Monday morning. He’ll be home tonight. I’m keeping her home today even though the medicine makes her seem completely fine. We are honoring the school rule of not brining a child to school within 24 hours of a fever.

Right now, two red blankets are on the floor (red carpet), the costumes are prepped and the fashion show is about to begin.

Gotta go.

I’ve been reading Grace Based Parenting by Dr. Tim Kimmel. Chapter 7, The Freedom to Be Different really resonated with me. Check out my latest post over at Pragmatic Communion. It’s about giving my daughter the “freedom to be different.”

Here’s a bit of Dr. Kimmel to ponder:

“The primary way to give our children grace is to offer it in place of our selfish preferences. They receive grace when we choose not to commit sins against their heart when our human nature would suggest that it would be okay to do so. In fact, the greatest grace that children receive is when we can even see the sins we are inclined to commit against their hearts followed by our willingness to go against our selfish urges. So much grace is stolen in the heat of the moment by our selfishness. Kids want things, need things, say things or do things that either bother us, embarrass us, or hurt us. But sometimes the reason we are hurt is because we might be exercising immaturity, insecurity or indifference. We take things that are huge to children and trivialize them, or we take small issues and magnify them out of proportion.”

“If you have a different child and remind her about the sacrifice you’ve made to accommodate her quirks, it is not in a context of grace.”