Saturday, April 26, 2014

Parenting: What I am NOT good at

Let me just tell you up front that one of my worst parenting flaws is that I am NOT a good potty-trainer.  You would think that since I am 43, and have already raised 3 children - that kid #4 would be a piece of cake. Contraire Mon Frère.

If diapers were free, I would be sending my child to kindergarten in them and let the teacher potty train her.

My first child Sarah doesn't count.  The girl potty trained herself.  That shouldn't surprise you since she is the one that came out of the womb already reading at a 3rd grade level. I remember dragging her to the doctor BEFORE her 3rd birthday because when she was writing her ENTIRE name she made her S backwards and I thought something was wrong with her. I thought she might have dyslexia. Oh my gosh I was such an idiot. Now that I'm a teacher I see that kids in SECOND GRADE still sometimes make a letter backwards and it's no big deal. Someone please go back in time and slap my 23 year old self around a little bit for not giving the two year old a break on her backwards S.   Seriously, one day I think I just saw her sitting on the potty and that was it. No more diapers. I'm like, "oh yeah! I'm so good....call me supermom...."

Then. I have 2 boys. I'm talking they were 3 1/2 years old and I started begging God to perform a miracle of potty training before the next holiday so all the extended family would not see me changing a practically full grown child's diaper.  And God heard my prayers. But not until after that embarrassing preschool moment when I did try to sneak Jonathan in with a pull-up. I thought surely he would not doody in the short 2 hours he was there.  But nope! I was found out. I begged the teacher to let him continue and "he-was-almost-potty-trained-I-promise-just-give-me-another-6-months."  With Jacob I had to practically  buy out the toy aisle of Dollar General to motivate him.

Now I get to do it all over again.  And again. And again.  I thought Elisabeth was potty-trained 20 boxes of diapers ago.  This child makes nothing in our life easy and she's not going to help us out now.  She knows how to go, when to go, what to do etc... but this is what potty training her looks like:
 Potty training is just one big party for her. A mess just waiting to be made.  Toilet paper is so much fun to unroll, shred, put in the toilet over and over and over.  Its so much fun to wash our hands 20,000 times and use half a bottle of soap. Its so much fun to have mommy chase you around the house waving a pair of panties around.  The one and only time I take her out in big girl panties she floods the aisle at Walmart. She is choking on a chip so she could purposely make an audience for herself - I'm letting the group of concerned grandma's standing around my cart know that yes, she was okay...and then WHOOSH...let the floodgates open.  Bring out the mops and caution wet floor signs. It's going to be awhile before I am brave enough to try that again.
 
This is our conversation a couple days later. AT 4:00 A.M. 
 
She crawls over in bed and pats my face
Elisabeth:" Mommy! Mommy! Tee-Tee! Go Tee-Tee!"
Me: " Just go in your diaper"
Elisabeth: "NOOOoooooooo - tee tee! toy-wet (toilet)"
Me:  NO! It's 4:00 a.m.! Go in your diaper!
Elisabeth: NOOOOOO! TOY-WET!!
Me: "Okay, Okay... you will tee-tee on the floor at Walmart but get mommy out of bed at 4:00 in the morning to go in the toilet."
Elisabeth goes in potty like she has been doing it for years
Me: "Yay! What a big girl!!!" (roll eyes- fake smile)
 
We all have things we do really well as a parent and some things we don't do so well. I think parenting toddlers is one of the most difficult things in life to do (and then repeat for teenage years). It requires a massive, almost un-humanlike amount of patience. That un-humanlike patience can only come from one place - the Holy Spirit. Whether you are putting a diaper on your toddler this morning or big girl/boy panties (Okay - boys don't wear panties), or you are telling your teenager for the thousandth time to unload the dishwasher, or your battles are much much bigger (and I hurt for you) - As a mamma,  we need to make sure we are putting on this every. single. day. It's our survival. It will allow our kids to survive. 
 
"Clothe yourselves, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, with compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness and patience..." (Colossians 3:12)
 
And what's on my imaginary grocery list today? (because remember, I don't do grocery lists) - But of course, a box of diapers! Only 3 years till kindergarten.

Friday, January 31, 2014

Words


"I'm sick mamma, really sick."
 
Words you don't want to hear from your child, especially when she is literally halfway across the world.
 
"I found this lump in my breast mamma, while I was sick in India."
 
Words you thought you would never hear coming from your 20 year old daughter.
 
"I'll be right back ladies..."
 
Words you do not want to hear from a lab technician doing an ultrasound on your 20 year old daughter.
 
"It should be me laying there and not you."
 
Words I say to my daughter that is getting an exam that is 30 years too early.
 
"The tumor I see is abnormal. We will schedule you a biopsy as soon as we can. The biopsy is 7:30 a.m. the day after tomorrow."
 
Words you never thought you would hear concerning one of YOUR children.
 
"This day did not turn out how I expected."
 
Words the doctor said after a grueling six hours in his office.
 
"Babe.., it's not good. This is crazy.I can't even believe it."
"It's gonna be okay. We will get through it.  Tell Sarah I love her."
 
Words spoken on the phone between two parents.
 
"Babe, the realtor called and we just sold the house.  We ARE gonna be okay. We WILL get through this."
 
Words you don't want to hear 30 minutes after finding out your child might have cancer.   When you have no place to go.  When you have no back up plan.  When you have to be out in 4 weeks.
 
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:27)
 
Words I easily wrote on someone's facebook post.  And two days later they are words that I had no idea I would be clinging to with everything I am.  Words that I say, words that I know, but are they words I believe, truly believe?
 
"Yes Lord.  Through my fear. I trust you.  Through my countless tears. I believe you.  Through the sleepless night, I feel you there."
 
Words I spoke to my Lord.
 
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"And she had breast cancer and her hair fell out, and her eyebrows fell out, and she did the whole thing on national TV!!!"
 
Careless Words spoken from a group of older women sitting next to a nervous girl and her parents in the waiting room...waiting for her name to be called for a biopsy.
 
" Hey Hon, you need to tie your shoe!"
 
Words spoken from the same group of women, as my daughter was walking back to her biopsy. Those words only let me know that yes, that is my baby walking back there. Wasn't it only yesterday I was tying her shoes? 
 
"I would pay a trillion dollars to let this be me and not you."
 
Words any mother would say to her daughter.
 
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"Have you heard from the doctor?!?!?! I am a bundle of nerves!"
 
Words sent across the phone from a mom to a dad, a wife to a husband.
 
"What's wrong Mrs. Zluticky? Why are your eyes watering? Are you okay?"
"I don't know, maybe I have allergies..."
 
Words spoken between teacher and student.  Asked by a child who is all too familiar with pain and can sense it in others. 
 
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.  I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."
 
Words that I still believe.  Even though it is hard.
 
 "It's benign."
 
The only words we wanted to hear from the doctor's mouth. And we did.
 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
"The doctor agreed to see you.  Get her here now."
 
Words that are such a relief after still messing around with what has made her so sick from India.
 
"I am finally starting to feel better. I'm going back to school"
 
Words spoken from a girl, after just flying home from half-way around the world, did nothing but face a week and a half of poking, prodding, needles, and doctors. Handling it all with the grace and beauty and strength of someone who believes.


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That has been our last two weeks.
Totally unexpected.
 
I don't know why God allowed us to have a good outcome when so many wonderful families do not.
 
I do know that as a family in ministry, we meet so many hurting people. Families in crisis. Families who do not get a good report. Families without hope. And it is so easy to give them scripture. 
 
Sometimes we need to be brought to the place where we know how it feels to hurt.  We know how it feels to be scared. Really scared.  We are faced with the scripture and Jesus gently asks,  "Do you REALLY believe what you say? What I say?"  
 
Yes. With humble and grateful hearts, we do.
 
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Friday, January 3, 2014

The Corndog Mom

I got such a sweet surprise from my husband for Christmas - a brand spankin' new laptop.  If you follow my life at all, you already know or wouldn't be surprised  that Elisabeth picked half the keys off my really old laptop.  It got really hard to type with my ghetto-rigging of the broken keys and all.  And he got it just so I could blog. And look at facebook. And watch Netflix in bed. Ya know, everything a laptop was meant for.

 I am so excited and have been thinking of how I could re-do my blog to make it more helpful/useful/not-just-mindless-funny-stories. Blogs are obviously everywhere and I have read some blogs of incredible  moms out there who are cooking like, food dug up straight from the ground that their 3 year old planted. Then they put a recipe up, in which their beautiful potato is somehow made into a hamburger, photographed on a really cool earthy looking plate - with a perfectly clean house in the background!!!
 
But look what my two year old can do! She is learning how to roll a ball of cookie dough in a big bowl of sugar!!! But before you judge, please notice my big bowl of uneaten fruit in the background. Its right past the dirty towel and behind the casserole still left out from breakfast - 6 hours ago. I promise I try.



This is probably the best to what I can contribute to the food blogging world - a frozen corndog on a paper plate. Photographed in my always messy kitchen, on top of my oh-so-attractive, whitish, marblish, 70's laminate countertop.  My kids will never go hungry even though I have killed every possible garden like vegetable that I have tried to plant in my ground before it barely got bigger than a seed. They will never go hungry because I always have a big box of corndogs in my freezer.

There are blogs that show all these really cool artsy-fartsy "re-purposed" crafts. Gals who find something like a dresser at a garage sale, (that currently looks like the one I have in my boys room) then strips it down, pulls out drawers, gives in a fresh coat of paint and WA -LA - Its now a dresser-turned-toddler bed that looks like it came from a Pottery Barn catalog. I try to make a prop for a puppet show and Elisabeth gets involved. So I try to be the sweet, patient, creative mom and let her make one.  What happens is she gets glue all over the table, chairs, and floor.  I loose it and when she starts walking and leaves glue footprints on the carpet and I yell.

 Then 4 weeks later I lovingly wrap up this little craft with a sniffle and put it in a box marked "Elisabeth's first craft she made all by herself."  (And we just won't mention the ugly yelling part of the night.)


There are teaching blogs.  I'm not even going there. (I do not want to incriminate myself on the world wide web.)  And deep spiritual blogs. Well, that is the type of blog my husband would write.  If he would blog. But he won't. (Like he doesn't tweet either and his FB posts are always just youth announcements.  (C'mon babe. How boring is that?!?! I will gladly post some funny things for you. - I've seriously offered but he won't let me.  I wonder why?!?!)

If you are any of these bloggers I commend you.  I think you are awesome.  Seriously.  Some of you guys are half my age and already got it together on the whole parenting/cooking/housewife thing.  I look up to you.

My blogs are just about every day real life. The life of a corndog mom. That even though I am going to do my best to feed my kids healthy foods, you will still see pizza rolls and corn dogs in my freezer.  My 2 year old is a crazy little mess.  In the course of a ten minute phone conversation about therapy services she receives, she dumped out all hundred jillion Apples to Apples cards all over the floor, throws a whole tin of Dominoes across the room and then runs in the bathroom and smears my Clinique foundation all over the toilet seat.  I'm pretty sure she thought it was fingerpaint.  DARN EXPENSIVE fingerpaint little girl. I'm not kidding. My boys are these awesome cool Jesus-loving young men who play too many video games and put silly putty all over their face and inevitably winds up in their hair.  Their little sister gets ahold of it and it ends up in her hair! That I have to cut out! And I yell - again.


I have about 50 goals in my head for this coming new year.  And most of them involve becoming a better mom, wife, daughter of the King. Some of ya'll have it down. But a lot of you out there are like me - making the best out of a messy, unorganized, chaotic life.  But I know I must keep trying.  I must "run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus- the author and perfector of our faith..."(Hebrews 12:1-3) Trying to do what is best and right for my family.  Eating healthy, getting the two year old on a schedule, being a godly example to my teenagers.

So my blogs in 2014 will just be more of me - writing about the mishaps, mayhem and ministry of these people I love.  Happy New Year!!!
 
See, taking a good family pic is next to impossible with this crew! It's complete with our dog's behind in the background.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

Last Fish Standing

Let me start this by saying we are not pet people. We are not even remotely close. So how I end up with so many pets I do not know. And its not like we take in these cute stray kittens, or buy a full-bred fru fru dog. We get our pets from the lake, from the street, and the latest one was rescued out of a locker in the HIGH SCHOOL BOYS FOOTBALL LOCKER ROOM.

We have our stray little dog Matty. And the stray dog we had before him was also named Matty. We can't even get original with our names. We give each pet the same name the previous one had. Who does that?!?! We've had Matty for over 8 years now. Its been the best little dog except that it finds any and every way to get out of our yard. All.The.Time. He's been escorted home in a police car. In which he rode in the front seat wagging his tail happily. We've had notes in our mailbox. "Your dog is running lose. Keep him in your yard." OH REALLY?!?! Like we don't know that? We've gotten tickets and warnings. His latest stunt is that he gets out of a hole in our fence, runs the two blocks to school, finds the hole in the elementary playground fence and hits the gold mine of little kids. Whenever I hear "Mr. B. there is a dog on the playground" come across the walkie-talkie's, I'm like "Oh crap! And drop what I'm doing and have to cart his little black and white rear home. So to all my neigbors I AM SORRY. I KNOW. We have fixed our fence. We have ghetto'd our yard up trying to plug up the holes. The dog is smarter than we are. He is a teenager. He likes to disobey his parents and run away.

Then we had slippy. The little turtle Jacob brought home from Beaver lake when he was 5. That we left in a bucket while we were at camp and thought was dead. Jacob prayed at camp for him to come back to life and he did. Praise God. That called for a big tank, supplies, etc... That turtle lived on our kitchen counter for 7 years!!!! When he died last year it was really sad. I will admit there were tears. FROM ME! We buried him in a little checkbook box in the front yard. For not being pet people, we are becoming pet people.

We got another turtle from Beaver lake. And I think we named him Slippy the 2nd. We might have tried to name him something else but we just call him Slippy. You know how some people are cat people? Well, we apparently are turtle people. Because the latest turtle we have is living in a HUGE plastic tub in Jonathan's bedroom. During football season there was a big ole' box turtle, in a bucket, IN A LOCKER, in the boys football locker room. JZ felt sorry for it because he is part of the weird turtle family. He brings it home in the front seat of his truck. He goes out and buys a huge tub, all this moss and decks out this tub that looks and smells like the Amazon forest. He keeps in at the foot of the bed. One night Matty tried to jump on the bed (in the middle of the night)and misses the bed and land in the turtle cage/tub. He can't get out. JZ wakes up to find Matty just sitting in the tub with the turtle.

Our latest collection of pets is the 11 goldfish Elisabeth got at Hallelujah night on Halloween. Actually, my little nephews and niece won them but my sister made them give the goldfish to E. (Thanks Holly). So we put them all in a bowl on the kitchen counter next to the turtle tank, where a Beta fish also lived. Most of the goldfish kicked off after a week. I don't think they could digest the cup of goldfish food E would throw in there every day. So I decided to put the last couple goldfish in the tank with the Beta and the turtle. After two days we were only down to one goldfish, Slippy the 2nd, and the Beta. (I think Jacob named him Killer.) Anyway, we had a big debate over which one ate the goldfish. We all thought the Beta did. Anyway, we started to check the tank daily to see who survived the night. The other day we woke up to find a goldfish HEAD floating at the bottom of the tank. And then, I kid you not, the Beta fish had completely disappeared out of the tank. Like, not a trace of Killer was found. I thought Beta's were supposed to be the ultimate He-Man fish. But not ours. He was a weeny. And we have one fat and happy Slippy the 2nd swimming around as the last fish standing. Except he's not a fish. He's a turtle. And for us not being pet people, we sure have alot of pet stories.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Some Things You Never Learn

It has been hard for me to decide how to actually get back into blogging. First, it's because E has picked like 15 keys off my laptop. I managed to get most of them back on except the "w", "c" and a few other ones that I am not sure what they are for anyway. Ya. She dumped out my purse and while I was picking up my purse she crawled up on the table and in 10 seconds flat all these little black computer keys were on the floor, table and in her mouth. Oh I had a come-to-Jesus-meeting with that little girl.  So if you notice some typo's you'll know why they are there.
Second, my very last blog was a week before we went on the Big Family Cruise. I could blog so many funny stories about that but it didn't seem quite appropriate to be funny when my poor husband ended up in the hospital for 6 days with heart problems the day after we got back. We weren't even unpacked, or had any food in the house, or even had more than 3 diapers in the bag when he went into Pro-med and didn't come back until a week later. The summer revolved around getting him back to health and finally cathing up on laundry from camp+vacation+hospital stay. So, things have settled down and it is easier to find the funny in life again.
I may back track one day and share a few cruise stories, and the endless E stories...But for now I'll just jump right in and tell about last night. When I temporarily forgot that I CANNOT CUT HAIR!!!! The first time I tried to cut hair was when I was in 6th grade. The night before school pictures. When I thought it would be cool to have Farrah Fawcett feathered hair. I whacked my hair off above my ears thinking somehow that would make the feathered look. It didn't. I'm STILL embarrassed to show anyone that picture.
Last year I went through this phase where I tried to cut Elisabeth's bangs. I remember the horror I felt when I just had to keep snipping and clipping trying to get her bangs straight until there was almost no hair left. And that was two weeks before Christmas. Every Christmas picture she looks like a complete dork.
Last night, Jonathan came to me and said, "mom, will you try and cut my hair with dad's clippers." Why I eagerly grabbed the clippers and said YES! I will never know. This was a cheapy little beard trimmer that I was trying to cut my son's bush of a head with. I thought if this would work I could really start saving us some money. He then tells me, "If this turns out you owe me $16.00." I'm like "what?!?!?!" He thinks that I will just give him the money I am saving from the hair dresser. I don't think so. I started up the clippers but whatever setting I was on wasn't cutting it so I decided to take the clipper part off. Bad idea. "Oops! Uh-oh! Crap!" were the only words that could escape from my mouth. He's looks in the mirror and says "Mom! one side of my head has a side burn and the other one doesn't!!!" And then one side of his hair was really bushy and one had a nice, close shave. But the worse was the back. I told him he looked like one of those little kids with ringworm on their head and the hair is missing in that spot. I am so lucky he has such a great sense of humor and we got a good laugh out of it. It was great mother and son bonding time.
To make a long story short, Jonathan could not go to school today until he got his hair cut. By a professional. And she did a great job fixing my botched job. So I made my son miss his first class today. I still had to pay for a hair cut. My bathroom floor still has hair all over it even after wiping it up twice. I think I have finally learned my lesson. At least for this year.

The butchered Christmas haircut
from last year


Do not let my mom get near scissors, clippers, razors....anything that could remotely be used to cut a piece of hair.

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Sleepless Nights From Toddler to Teenager

Blogging after midnight. Because I just got my 21 month old to bed.  And to my knowledge, she didn't even have a glass of Dr. Pepper tonight.  Lately, that is my only alone time I get.  I just shook out all the gold fish crackers out of my covers, felt a wet spot and realized it was a spilled bottle of milk and then kicked last night's empty bottle out from my feet. (And why in the world am I letting her still drink a bottle at 21 months?!?!) My Ipad is dead thanks to the endless hours of watching Spanish and Russian cartoons at three in the morning. I finally found the computer charger cord that I have been looking for the last 2 days in Elisabeth's closet, that she obviously put there.

Last night she was crying hysterically and freaking out about either #1 she didn't like her pajamas or #2 she was having an appendicitis attack.  First,  (trying to avoid trip number 3 to the doctor) I am trying to appease her by changing her pajamas.  After many tears and hit and misses, she is satisfied with wearing TWO pairs of pajama pants at the same time and a polka dot short sleeve shirt.  Then she wants to go outside. Then she wants to drive around in the car. Mind you this is 10:00 at night.  And what do we do?!?! APPEASE HER BECAUSE DUE TO LACK OF SLEEP WE HAVE LOST OUR STINKIN' MINDS with this child and SHE KNOWS IT!!!!  We drive around the back roads of Mansfield with me shining my phone light in the back seat to see if she's asleep so we can have her permission to go home.


"Come on mom and dad! Get in bed! We've got shows to watch in twenty different languages!"

This is when I'm all like "awww....look at my sweet baby...isn't she precious???She hasn't done a wrong thing in her little life!!!"


And what Elisabeth is probably thinking: "SUCKERS!!!!!!"

****I interrupt this blog to once again apologize to any and every parent I have had a judgemental thought or attitude towards concerning your parenting techniques.*****

She has been showing signs of being ready for potty training.  Tonight she took a bunch of toilet paper and stuck it in the toilet (I'll take that as a sign). I sighed and said "She's growing up so fast..."  Chris looked at her and replied, "Will you just turn 18 already?!?!?!"

We have a 19 year old.  And yes, somehow it seems they go from 2 to 19 overnight.  Graduation was tonight and I can't believe we just went through this a year ago with daughter number #1.  The one who slept in bed sideways between us until she was three.  The one who nursed until well, she was old enough to ask for it. Child #2 and #3 got the short end of the stick 'cause we wised up.  Then Elisabeth comes along at the practically grandparent stage of our life and we are....we are.....I'm sure many of you observing our life with E (especially family) would just LOVE to finish that statement for me. :)

Tomorrow my big girl comes home with her daddy's truck loaded down with her dorm room that needs to somehow miraculously fit it her bedroom closet.  Tomorrow we are looking for our 16 year old son's first car which means he is about to hit "freedomville."  Sorry Jacob, you are almost 13 and  tomorrow you are stuck at home  with your boring old mom and dad and your baby sister who I make you give your Sonic ice to so she will stop whining and I can have a moment of peace at your expense. (You have my permission to resent me.)

But before we know it, Chris will be looking at Elisabeth and say, "You're 18 already!!!!"  And then him and I will do a high five and a happy dance while being very careful not to throw our hip out of place.  We will collapse in our wheelchairs and say, "They are finally gone...."  Only not really. 

~I will give my baby a bottle till she is ready to give it up (or she's in kindergarten - whichever comes first.)
~I will snuggle and watch "Masha and the Bear" (that's her favorite Russian cartoon for those of you who are not up to date on my facebook) at 3:00 in the morning while the rear end of her blue stuffed bunny pokes me in the face. Because I know that in a blink of an eye I will be texting her goodnight across hundreds of miles instead of telling her goodnight across the hall.
~We will drive around in the pitch black to calm our poor baby down because she is uncomfortable and can't quite tell us why.  Because before we know it she will be driving around in the pitch black late at night while we wait up for her! (As in, we are never gonna get any sleep.) 
~We will continue to pray over our kids every morning asking the Lord to give us wisdom in how to handle all their little ideosyncrencies.  To show them mercy when they need mercy, to show them firmness when they need firmness.  To heal their bodies, to make their minds strong, to protect them from Satan.

It's what any parent would do...And if you're really good - You have them broke from the bottle and  on an  night time schedule that actually works by the time they are a year old. So we're a little behind.....And being all nostalgic, and weepy because it's now almost 2 a.m. and it's graduation time, and I like to indulge in those weepy mom moments....I wouldn't change it. (*I fully reserve the right to delete that comment when she wakes me up in about 2 hours.)



Saturday, April 27, 2013

It's Mud Pie Season

Seasons.  Springtime is here -wait, I meant winter is here...but that was yesterday, oh my gosh now I think it's summer! Let's drag out all our shorts and box up our winter clothes! What?!?! It's only 30 degrees today? Let me unpack my box of winter clothes.  Arkansas!!! What is up with your schizophrenic weather lately?!?!

Technically it is spring.  I personally love spring - it probably is my favorite season only because it follows my least favorite season which would be winter.  I wish winter was a two day season - lasting Christmas eve and Christmas day. The only positive thing about winter is living in sweatpants and hoodies and hiding all that extra "warmth" (technically called "blubber" if you live in the Arctic and you are a polar bear).  It's been such a rainy season this time around.  It's funny, we pray it won't rain so our ball games won't get postponed, and our field trips won't be cancelled.  In the summer, we hold revival type prayer meetings FOR it to rain so we can get a break from the heat, our crops won't ruin, our grass to come back to life. 

Well, all I'm gonna say is I got a 20 month old that is probably stormin' the gates of heaven with "Jesus! Bring on the rain!!!"  Nothing makes my daughter happier than a good mud puddle.  Or a lake about 4 inches deep that she can splash around in - preferably in our back yard. And lucky for her I am that kind of laid back (tired) mom that says "Go for it! Play in that mud! Drag your brother out there!" And I love the 20 minutes of peace and quiet I get while she happily splashes around and ruins three sets of clothes.
And she and I both are pretty darn lucky she has two brothers that pretty much give her what she wants.  And if they don't- well, she literally bites them on the head.

"Oh Jacob, why don't you come play in the back yard with your sister.  She really, really wants to play." (And I am seriously not wanting to get mud all over my clothes)  I think Jacob figured me out.
"Bubba is teaching me how to make mud-pie's! And yes, they taste yummy.  Because I like to eat dirt."

I can't raise a "girly girl" to say my life. She doesn't mind one bit that mud is covering half her face.
 "Don't even think about praying for this rain to stop.  It makes my back yard better than Disney World."

I have actually started a picture album on my computer and I just labeled it "mud 2013."  I have about 100 pics of her in the mud with whoever  I  she can con into playing with.  But I love it.  After a good solid night of rain we once again have a fishing lake in the back yard (it would be funny to put some gold fish in it and advertise our house with a "stocked pond").  I'll kinda be sad when spring is over and the yard is back to normal. And that will mean she will resort to finding a new way to make a huge mess - probably IN the house.

Life is centered around seasons.  The literal seasons and then the chunks of time we find ourselves in.  Some seasons are messy and hard or cold and dark and we can't wait for them to get over.  Some seasons in our life are beautiful and fresh - we have hit a good stride with our family or marriage or ministry.  Everyone is getting along, we have extra money, our ministry is showing results. One thing that is sure, good or bad, seasons change. Summer turns to fall, fall turns to winter....The bad doesn't last forever.  And unless you are the one person out of a million, the good doesn't last forever either. It's an ebb and flow. It keeps us dependent on the Lord.  Life changes. We just gotta roll with it.

Ecclesiastes  3:1-8
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven.
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep, and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

But oh my goodness.  As I am typing these verses out it hits me that good always follows bad.  Hang tough if you are in that dark time.  Seasons DO change.  It WILL get better. 

"Weeping may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning." -Psalm 30:5

And life according to Elisabeth is that  "messy, dirty mud makes the tastiest mud-pies."  The bad is what makes the good - oh so good!