I've got Jesus in my heart...

When I pulled G's pajamas off him this morning I found a sticker covering his left nipple.  

"What's this all about?" I asked him.

"See mommy?  I have Jesus in my heart.  I put this sticker here to remember me to keep Jesus in my heart."  

It was like I was talking to my dad.  How so you wonder?  He used to tell me that loving Jesus was something simple and that children understand it best, we adults muck it up.  

G has been quite fascinated with the human body lately.  The brain, skeleton and heart in particular.  He is asking a lot of questions and wanting to look stuff up online.  I found some YouTube videos and other illustrations/animations of beating human hearts and when we watch each one G will ask me, "Is Jesus in that heart too?"  "I sure hope He is, son."  "I hope so too, everybody needs Jesus."

How prophetic is he?

He also informed me that the heart is a muscle and that since I work out my heart must be super duper strong.

What a great article!

http://www.writingwishing.com/2013/06/time-im-sorry/Time, I’m SorryJUNE 5, 2013 BY ALISONIs it possible to feel like a failure twice in one day, in a matter of hours?Yes, yes it is.The first time was when I snapped at my oldest, for throwing cookies all over the clean floor. His face fell, feelings clearly hurt. As I grumpily went about vacuuming the crumbs, it struck me that in that moment – I had just lost it over crumbs.“Failure! Failure! Failure!” my inner bitch screamed.When nap time for the boys came, I couldn't get them to their rooms quick enough. As I said, “Sleep tight, buddy,” in a slightly strangled tone to the cookie-throwing boy, he waved me off with a cheery, “BYE!”
He’d already forgiven me for yelling. I hadn't forgiven myself. This time, silent whispers of “failure, failure, failure” rang in my head.
Utterly defeated, I sat down at my desk, turned on my laptop, and the first thing I read, hit me squarely in the gut. “Why don’t we allow children to feel the same things we feel as adults? Why aren't they allowed to have a bad day? Or be grumpy?”
I had not given my son the grace of just being human. I had piled on expectations on him, because of my own standards. I hadn't given him leeway to just be three years old. On the other hand, I was grumpy all morning, I complained and bitched, I yelled and showed displeasure. I was acting like a toddler having a bad day.
Later that day, I found myself alone with him. We had settled down quietly – me, writing, him, drawing.Then, he stopped, took my hands, said, “Mama,” and climbed into my lap. As I held my firstborn in my lap, his head on my shoulder, I noticed that his legs seemed to have lengthened overnight. I reminisced when he used to sleep on me, his little head over where my heart beat, his legs curled up on my stomach. As I inhaled the scent of a 3 year old and held a hand bigger than I remember it, I realized with great certainty two things: that my son has given me the grace of being a fully flawed human whom he loves unconditionally, and that time is not on my side.Time is a thief. It steals away all the minutes and hours when their brains grow, their limbs lengthen, and their independence flourishes.Time is a liar. It tells me that my days are long because nerves are frayed, and tempers are lost over the smallest things.Time is devious. It hides from us all the tiny moments that truly bring joy and rounds up your days, by showing us our perceived failures.By wishing it away (“I can’t wait for them to be old enough to wipe their own butts! I can’t wait for them to leave me alone in the bathroom!”), I have made time my enemy.Time, I am sorry. Slow down a little, let’s be friends again. I need all of what you can give, and I promise not to waste a single minute. Thank you.

I know that I am guilty of wishing a rough day would just end.  

Bad Nana

After I got out of the shower this morning G told me that I needed to wear a, "Bad Nana," today.  A what?  A "Bad Nana," he repeated.  I told him I still didn't understand what he was talking about.  He gave the big, "My mom is so stupid," sigh and said, "A Bad Nana mommy, on your head."

Then he went and grabbed a bandana off my dresser.

"Oh!  A bandana you mean?"
"That's what I said, a bad nana."

"No, you said bad nana.  Try this baaaaaaaaaaaaan-dan-uh."

"Nevermind, you're not cool enough for this."  He took my bandana and put it back on my dresser and left the room.

6 days of trippin'

Road trippin' that is!

My mom and her dog came and picked up the G-Man and me.  She has a new 19' camp trailer.  We went to Cd'A and slept in a school parking lot and then picked up my sister and took her to my grandma's house for the night so my aunt could fix her up pretty.  My aunt from Tennessee was up visiting, that's mainly why we went up there but of course seeing Nana Great (my grandma) is an equally compelling reason.

It'd be even more so if she remembered who we were :(

Later that evening as we were all enjoying the backyard G asked to climb one of the tree's.  Sure, why not?  I helped him into the tree and then he decided he didn't want to get back out.  Next thing I know he's picking and throwing unripened crabapples at my cousin's boys.  Don't worry, they threw them back.  G climbed almost to the top of the dang tree which nearly gave me a heart attack but he made it back down to a safe level eventually.  And by safe I mean he came down far enough that if he was to fall it wouldn't break anything.  And he tested that out to make sure, that's why I say that with certainty.  He hit the ground hard on his right side and popped right back up and said, "I'm okay.  I'm okay."  Everyone laughed and he looked at me and got big tears in his eyes and his bottom lip popped out and he came to me crying.  Poor little bugger still needs his momma sometimes.

The next evening some more family members showed up and we got to visit with them.  We had parked my mom's trailer in the backyard at Nana Great's house and spent the night.  But I had to take my sister back to her place that evening because she had a wedding to attend the next day.  So I got to spend about three hours with my sister on the drive and then about three hours all by my lonesome on the drive back.  Well, except for that approximately 15 minutes I spent chatting with a state trooper who pulled me over.  Oops.

The next day, with a handful of relatives around G managed to not only take control of my mom's dog but lead him across the 4 lane highway that runs in front of Nana Great's house.  They were going to go to the train tracks.  I sure wish that boy had some semblance of fear.  Someone realized that no one knew where G was and a fast search party broke out.  Thankfully my cousin saw him a block up and across the highway and one of my aunt's hopped in her car and went and got him.  She told me later that she yelled at him because she was scared and that he looked like he was going to cry.  I thanked her for yelling at him because he wouldn't have cared if he had scared me.  Crisis averted, reputation as wanderer established.  Yay.

One day we took a drive out to my aunt & uncles property where they'd built a little cookhouse, etc. and where they camp.  My cousins boys (I believe they're 10 and 8 were out there without their mom.  They wanted to take me and G for a ride on the golf cart (it's an older one) and I said, "Sure, why not?"  Famous last words.  We went for a drive alright...and then the golf cart died.  Oy.  So here I am about two miles from camp with three boys aged ten and under.  They refused to leave the golf cart to walk back to camp citing that, "Papa would be so mad at us."  So we started pushing it to get it off the road and since that wasn't so bad we just kept pushing, hoping to lessen Papa's anger by doing the majority of the work.  Well, that was until the 10 year old got tired from pushing.  So it was just me.  I pushed that stupid thing about 1.5 miles, up a hill even, until some of the other adults at the camp decided, "Hey they've been gone awhile haven't they?" and came looking for us.  Unfortunately for the boys it was their Papa that came looking and it was easy to see on his face that he was pissed off.  He left and came back with a trailer and loaded up the golf cart and we all went back to camp.

We all went swimming in the Fisher River, which is more like a wide creek.  It was surprisingly warm.  Nana got in with G so I didn't have to.  I sat on the bank and took pictures.  At one point I heard at least two people tell G, "Don't go too far, that's over your head."  He didn't listen and next thing I know I hear my aunt yelp and my cousin say, "I'll get him."  Yep, G went under.  Oh for the love of gray hairs, child!

When we got back to Nana Great's house we found a whole bunch of kids and family members there.  G was in heaven, so many children to play with.  He just sauntered right in like he'd been around these kids every day of his life.  I love his natural social nature.  He wrestled with the bigger kids and ran around with the smaller kids.  He especially loved my cousin's youngest, Gavin, who is three.  And Gavin especially loved my camera.  He's a total ham.  So after a full day of running around in the woods and then swimming he got to play and play and play until well beyond dark with all these children who are his seconds cousins.  When he asked me about them later him and I decided that we don't need to use the terms first or second...they're just cousins, which is a special term for G.  It was a blast from the past to see kids running around being crazy in that big side yard.

 Goofball Gavin

The next day after waking up we hooked up the trailer and left Nana Great's house.

We only went out to Bad Medicine campground which is about an hour away and we spent the night there.  When I was younger my dad's family would take over that campground for about a week every summer so it was nostalgic to say the least.  G loved it there!  He jumped right into the lake which was again surprisingly warm.  I let him push me off the dock which he thought was hilarious.  He even jumped off the dock, several times, even though it was over his head and he had no life jacket on.  He's such a brave little fart!  He'd jump, surface to see where I was, reach out his arm to me and then go back under (because he can't quite swim), trusting that I'd grab his arm and help him out.  He never panicked once.  I really wish I remembered his floaties and he would have had a lot more fun.

G was also able to discover one of my dad's favorite things about that particular lake which is a great view of the Cabinet Mountains.  G told me that Heaven is at the top of the Cabinet Mountains.  I told him that he was probably right and that I bet Grandpa Alan's Heaven looks just like the Cabinets.  G was fascinated with them and when the sun started to set it lit them up and G just sat and watched.

The next morning we packed up our camp and headed to Post Falls where we stayed in the big fancy RV park.  Don't bother, it's big but it ain't fancy enough for the prices they charge.  We chose to go there because they had a pool.  We didn't know that they close the stupid pool (it hardly qualifies as a pool) at 7 pm!  What?  The pool was tiny and completely indoors and more like a sauna.  We had to share it with a large Italian family who was loud but the acoustics made it even worse.  G was happy though and he discovered what he now refers to as the "hot pool" otherwise known as a hot tub.  My little brother and his wife and her children joined us there for some swimming.  G and I had never met her or her children before.  My mom got pizza and after swimming we all ate and played.  The children were very sweet and it was nice to see my brother!

We went to Aunty Sarah's the next day and took her on a little walk.  G kind of accidentally walked out of the gas station without paying for his Bug Juice but thankfully Nana (who was waiting outside with the dogs) is wise to him and she sent him back inside.

Then we headed to our home.  Since my aunt from Tennessee was coming to visit and she was going to be tough enough to brave the shortcut we decided to help her out a little.  Since my mom was driving I drew up signs with my aunt's name on them and we put them up randomly along the 18 mile shortcut.  When she got here she said they helped considerably since she kept thinking she'd gone off the main road, that this couldn't be the main road, etc. and then she'd see a sign and think, "Yay, I'm still going the right way!"  It was awesome to have her come visit since not many people come to our house.

Anyway, my mom dropped off me and G and all of our gear and got the heck outta here.  I can't say that I blame her, six days with the two of us is a lot of time!  I'm so thankful for all her help with G and for all the time the two of them (and the three of us) spent together.