Eek, what a week!

Last week was quite an adventure and I'm ready for some nice boring routine.

Tuesday I was juggling the gigantic Play and Praise bin of instruments and sand toys, the ice chest with the Otter Pops for the kids, our lunch in a cooler bag, and the beach towel that we had been sitting on. During said juggling it would appear that my cell phone fell unnoticed out of my pocket there at the park. After several hours of retracing my steps and repeatedly calling my phone hoping desperately to hear it ring, I went home and called Verizon...someone had been using my phone and clearly it was gone forever.

And by referring to it as just a phone really doesn't do it justice...it was my calendar, my address book, and occasionally I used it to place and receive calls. Everyone who hears that story assumes that the information was backed up because it's a service that Verizon offers free. Sadly, that service works via their text messaging system which I have blocked on my phone. So everything is just gone. And I'm wasn't due for a phone upgrade for another year so I had to pay cash to replace the phone. Ick.

There is a bright side to the story. I now have a BlackBerry because it was the cheapest phone that would sync with the computer so that I don't lose everything again (I've never in 12 years lost a phone before this year, but I've lost TWO in the last 12 months). I love having my email at my fingertips. I love that it keeps track of my entire life in one little machine. I just love it. It was an expensive and unplanned upgrade but I think it's already worth every penny. And yes, I did buy the insurance.

Just for fun, the next day I called the friends of the thief to let them know that the calls they had received the day before were from my stolen phone. The first person (a male answered) said, "I don't know what you're talking about (but clearly he did) and I don't want to talk to you." The second person went to voicemail. I very sweetly said who I was and that I'd like my phone returned to the church no questions asked or else I'd file a police report. No response....and no surprise there. Hopefully I made them sweat a little. And the police department will take a report since there's suspect information to help them find it so the next call they get will be from a detective. I don't really expect to ever see the phone (or the video of Justin fighting Darth Vader at the Jedi Training Academy) again.

But THEN! Saturday we went to a birthday party at Adventure City. It was hot but we're used to that here and we were all drinking liquid. Justin suddenly poops out toward the end and by the time we drove home he was difficult to even rouse. I stick him in a bath and try to cool him off but when I take his temp it's still near 103 after almost an hour. He continues to refuse to walk or even stay awake but I get him up every 15 minutes to have a few swallows of liquid until he vomits all over the couch and dining room floor. After three hours in the emergency room he finally perks up enough to walk around on his own but his temp was still 102. After sleeping until noon the following day it was as if nothing ever happened and he's been fine ever since. I, however, have not bounced back quite as quickly from having seen him that way and hover over him to take breaks and drink whenever we're out, not to mention running the air conditioner in the car at full power constantly when we're driving.

Two things to learn from this: hydrating the day before is apparently as important as hydrating while you're outdoors and hot, and drinking large amounts all at once, as we are both prone to do, is almost counterproductive, you need smaller amount all through the day.

This has been an entire month packed with daily fun things to do (yesterday was my only day in July where there was nothing on the calendar), but after a week like this last one, some time to just do normal, routine things is sounding pretty good...I have it penciled in for the second week in August as long as nothing else comes up.

Acceptable Rebellion

Rebellion is part of childhood. It's becoming your own person and it's healthy and natural. Justin has chosen to rebel by wearing a pajama shirt from one set and bottoms from another. This morning it was a Buzz Lightyear shirt and Clone Wars pants. Sometimes he even likes to mix seasons by wearing half flannel and half shorts. He's doing it on purpose because he thinks it bothers me. I bring it up from time to time to give the mild impression that it does because it wouldn't be fun to rebel if it didn't bother someone, but I don't want to give him the idea that he's disobeying and getting away with it. Do I really care what he wears in bed that no one sees? If this is how he wants to rebel, go to town little man...really stick it to me!

Quote of the Day

Taxation is a hard concept for a five and a half year old. With the state elections last month I let Justin do the voting because we were voting "no" on all the measures and I figured it would be fun to find all the nos and mark them with the Inkavote. My best attempt has been to explain that we need to pay taxes for things that are important like firefighters, police, and army, but that we give enough money for that already and that the government needs to choose how to spend it better. I make this personal by saying that if the government takes more of the money Mommy earns we won't be able to go to McDonalds or buy new toys (these are my standard examples of reasons why we don't waste what we have). So today Justin says, "If my kids say they don't need anymore toys, I'll just give all my money to the government." Either I have a budding liberal on my hands or he's so enamored by law enforcement that he's willing to part with all his money. $10 says that when he actually earns money he'll change his tune.

May the Force be with you!

Justin's current obsession is Star Wars. It's so intense that I expect it to last for years, then it will probably lie dormant until he has a five year old son when he will begin to re-live it again vicariously.

He's currently in cleaning his room. Here's the conversation:

J: Hey, Mom! I can really use the force!
M: That's great, babe, to clean things up?
J: Yeah! I can put things away with it!
M: Wow, hon! What did you pick up?
J: Well, I only know how to do small things right now.
M: Oh?
J: Yeah, I can't even do paper.
M: Then what can you do?
J: Oh, you know, like germs and stuff. And only if I stand really close.

I think this Youngling needs more training.

Bronte

This is Bronte. I first met her within days of her birth when her eyes weren't even open. She and her brother "Ninja" came to live with me in my first apartment almost 12 years ago. I named her Bronte Elizabeth because I thought it would be a nice name for a daughter but was quickly convinced that it would be cruel for a child so I stuck my poor cat with it instead.

Bronte is currently up for adoption at the Baldwin Park animal shelter. The photo is her mugshot from the adoption website. She's a beautiful cat, but looks can be deceiving. She loves me, but is very fearful and hisses at anyone and everything but me. Justin won't even come into my room when she's there. She also potties on the floor when left alone for long periods of time. She likes to potty in laundry and anything box-like, especially suitcases, which is also inconvenient. Her beautiful fur often causes fur balls and she vomits too. I tried for years to work with her and now that she has to stay in my very small bedroom all the time I just can't do it anymore. So on Friday I surrendered her to the animal shelter.

I'm sure that it would be a relief to most people to be rid of such a high maintenance pet, but I'm grieving the loss. Not only do I not have her anymore, I have the guilt that it was my own choice. I feel like a failure that I just couldn't manage her anymore with all the other things that I'm juggling. And it makes it harder to know that she's out there, and I could bring her home again if I chose. There's no closure as long as she's still there on the website. My hope is that she'll be adopted by some nice little old lady who wants an older cat and can devote the attention to her that I haven't been able to. I pray that God will use her to meet the needs in someone else's life and that he'll relieve me of my guilt over the whole thing. I'll never know what happens when she disappears from the website and it's probably better that way.

I love her in spite of her behavioral issues and I hurt in spite of the fact that it was my choice. But after I finish a good cry I'm going to delete the bookmark I have to her adoption advertisement and let her go for good. And if anyone knows of some little old lady (with hardwood floors) that would like a sweet, although high maintenance cat, please send them to go get her.

One thought, two thoughts, old thought, new thoughts

Today is a day to celebrate in the Brown household. Justin read his first book...One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish. He's been able to read individual words for quite awhile and got a fun LeapFrog game for Christmas that's really helped his reading to blossom, but today is the first time I've sat down with a book that I was confident he could read and he did. Sentence after sentence, page after page. It's an occasion to celebrate, and celebrate we did.

But it also highlights a nagging concern I have about his character, and sadly, what I might be doing as a parent to contribute to it. It would be my hunch that Justin could've read weeks or months ago except that he wasn't sure he could and wasn't willing to try. He brought home a boat to decorate for a race at AWANA and decided that he wasn't going to participate because he didn't know if he would win (BTW: He WILL participate). I could understand this self-consciousness developing in a 12 year old, but at barely five he's at a time in his life where he should be trying out all sorts of things just to see what he likes and what he's good at. The values that I want him to have apparently aren't the ones he's picking up, and the more I look at my own life the more I see maybe where he gets it. So I'm setting a new goal, one that's strange and uncomfortable, to intentionally do things that I probably won't succeed at and try to act convincingly like it's fun. I'm going to make an effort to point out my failures whenever they happen and deal with them gracefully without excuses. And I'm going to pray that the lesson is learned quickly. But no matter the temporary humiliation I will have to go through, it will be better than looking back and thinking that maybe I failed in some way as a parent by allowing him to think that he has to be perfect. So here's to big, glaring failures in my life in the weeks to come! (How often do you wish for that?!)

At church... without being at church

I spend nearly 1/3 of my waking hours at church. Sadly, my goal is to attend service 50% of the time and I'm even failing at that. When I don't know about things going on there it's usually been announced in the service or put in the worship folder which I never hear and never get, so I often feel like I'm the last to know things even though I work there. It's become a joke in staff meetings...Oh you didn't know about that? That's right, you don't attend here.

I really felt the longing over Christmas. We were in Seattle and attended church with my brother and sister-in-law. Their church is not exactly my style, but as we were waiting for the service to begin it hit me...I had NO RESPONSIBILITIES! I didn't have a pager in case of emergency. If a child was crying or a teacher didn't come or a toilet overflowed, someone else would take care of it. I didn't need to mentally run through my "To Do" list to make sure that I had told the two year old teacher that so-and-so was in big girl panties today and that all the parts of the craft were on the counters. I wasn't noticing which parents were in the service with me and what that meant about classroom dynamics. I didn't even have to worry whether Justin was obeying his teachers. I just got to worship.

And I did.

And it filled a need.

I don't have an answer to the dilemma. I love my job and it is what it is. My job is about being fully staffed on Friday afternoon when I leave the office and getting two (or six) calls Saturday night with people who aren't coming as scheduled. My job is about a class of six babies requiring six volunteers because each is demanding an individual set of arms because they can't sleep in a strange place. My job is about encouraging parents that they need to go to church and get their own spiritual needs met and promising that I will personally check on their child and page them if their child needs them. I love that I can provide for others the experience of going to church and knowing that their children are safe and happy and loved. But I miss that experience myself.

So for now I just try to carve out as many of those times as I can (it's usually at 8:00a with the AARP crowd in the balcony with Justin and a coloring book), and appreciate, maybe more than most, the opportunity to join with my "family" and worship our God together.