Every home needs a boy: Part Jack

Escaping every week from the routine of gymnastics to gallop down the trampoline.
Dancing in circles.
Saying "Sissy" through pacifiers.
Having a best friend named "No-No" & loving his family too.
Wrestling with his best friend.
Wresting with Cooper.
Touching the front of hair to soothe.
Books.
Removing his left shoe & sock while strapped into the car seat.
Constantly outside.
Escaping down the street. Laughing. While Mom-mee chases.
Riding on feet, acting like an airplane. Then Kamikaze.
Learning how to pee on the potty. While holding himself. While placing different objects in the potty.
Learning how to properly & improperly use toilet paper.
Spitting on the ground.
Eating croutons.
Eating ladybugs.
Eating dirt.
Eating sand.
Eating rocks.
Drinking Carpet Cleaner.
Constant tornado.
Running naked in the backyard.
Talking on the phone.
Loving "Mi-Mi."
Loving his grandparents.
Saying goodnight to every thing in the house.
Saying "Love You" with kisses.
Thanking his God for family & friends.
Boy smell.
Soft head.
Cuddly heart.
Wide arms.

Eminism

Where's E-Bay?
-Emma, looking at a map of the United States of America

My Growing Pains

Jack is hovering close to the steps of the play structure. He is calling out "Mom-mee!" repeatedly over the wind. I approach him and find him as unlikely as Jack can be- timid. He hugs me & I hold him in my arms for almost five minutes. I am humbled and finally grow the nerve to ask his forgiveness.

I would like to say I have it together most minutes of the day, but from my previous entries, you can see that I tend to loose it every now & then. I can't get over these moments. They haunt me and encourage me to try to grow from each failed moment. Even though it seems to me like each blog is turning into a mini-devotion, I don't want to turn into Mr. Olsteen, telling you there is a silver lining on every cloud. Regardless, my Father continues to grow me through these failed moments, breaks me of my frustration & weariness, and no matter how old I am, I am still His child. His spoiled, weary, ever-dependent daughter.

We were leaving for the park. My hair in a hat because I overslept. I had just cleaned up Jack's poop & pee from the upstairs carpet- a result of not being quick enough with the diaper. Emma starts to whine and throw her famous fit because her jacket isn't cooperating. Jack is finally dressed, but now is stripping his pants off. Will longs (desperately) to finally nurse. So, I snap. At Emma mostly, and as I do, Jack just hugs the couch and looks at me confused.

By the time we are at the park, all three blessings are calm. I am calm, but very remorseful at my own actions. Throughout the past several months, I continually tell Emma constantly to use her normal voice and use her words gently. Yet in the midst of my own frustration, I raise my voice very quickly! Ok, I yell.

And so begins the teaching moments: Learning to ask for forgiveness from your own children may be one of the most humbling actions a parent may ever endure (at least so far in my experiences). But as I do this, it continues to reveal my own humanness. Both Jack & Emma are so quick and so easy to show mercy and forgiveness.

Later in the afternoon, Emma is stalling (as usual) her rest time. She continually gets out of her bed and the last time tells me something she is thinking of makes her sad in her heart. Her feelings are hurt. What my baby? I tenderly ask. When you talked mean to me is her response. I pull her in my lap and explain how forgiving a wrong means moving on and not holding on to the offense. And so I will try to learn from my own teaching moment with Emma- to learn from this wrong and not cling to the guilt and grow with this moment.

Air

I'm drowning. Since yesterday afternoon, I have been gasping for air. Trying to dog paddle while shopping. With Jack in a sling on my side, Emma in tow (whining), & Will being carted around in the SUV of strollers, that seems to be low on power steering fluid; I was feeling a tad overwhelmed.

It seems like there are days where life has become just a constant trip. Trip here, there, load the blessings, unload the blessings, stop whining, stop saying mine, stop sassing, stop, stop, stop! And though, I have a "gaggle" of little ones & a very strong support system with me every step of this journey, there are days like today that I have never felt so alone. Drowning.

It's time to take Emma to school. Will is crying because Jack has once again attacked him. Jack- Naughty X now! Will is covered in slobber on his temple and his skin is starting to turn red from the assault. Emma & Jack start chasing each other with the Cooper's leash. The door opens to the garage to load up & Jack darts down the street. He is laughing. I am not. I realize Cooper is again digging the backyard and hear a foreign voice come out of my own mouth scolding the pup. Mud is once again all over the floor, wiped against the side of my leg. Gasping.

I call Roy to complain. I alert him of my insanity & say stupid things like Love just isn't enough. Gulp.

How quickly I have forgotten my Father's claim to just ask. Ask Me Heather for wisdom. Ask Me for help. Ask Me for sanity. Peace. Instead, I cling to my worries of the Zoloft prescription soon expiring. I cling to the mess my home has become. I cling to the fact that Emma has again won & is wearing a head band in her messy hair, instead of a clip. Just be still, Heather. Ask. Ask. Gasp.

Jack is watching out the window as we drive home. A breeze catches us and blows through the truck's windows and catches both of us off guard. He is in awe of this sensation. I am in awe of his innocent reaction. Gasp.

We are home. Will' is sleeping peacefully now, but the side of his face is screaming red from the earlier Jack attack. Jack begs for his pacifier & finds an old one of Will's in the car seat. Such small sweet joy comes over him. I have quickly learned a lesson from my 20 month old. Joy in the mess & small treasures of the moment. Air. Fresh Air.

Eminisms & Royalty

Why is God my little princess?
-Her Highness, confused & meaning to say: Why am I God's little princess?

Will I still be your princess when I am five?
-Her Majesty, questioning how long she will be our little girl.

JACK BLESS YOU'D ON ME!!!
-My Lady, informing me that Jack had covered her with germs...

Bad Bug

So it's called a Super Bug, but I am not impressed at all by this title. I would like MRSA to now be called a Bad Bug and maybe do some time on my "Naughty X" so it will learn it's lesson.

Both Jack and I have fought this nasty bacterial infection since he was an infant. I wish there was someone or something to be angry with, but there isn't. Just a sign of our times, with all of our overuse of antibiotic medicines, soaps, purified meats & produce. And our Jack suffers.

Jack's bottom carries a boil. He leans to the side when he sits and says "Ow" in his ever so brave voice, whenever he sits down too hard. So this week we start the bleach water baths, where Jack is banished from the family baths, like a leper living outside his community. Everyone in the Jerrolds household is being swabbed up their noses (oh, fun!) to prevent colonization. And last night Roy & I held our sweet warrior down as we squeezed & poked at his spot to drain any yuck from the area, Jack yelling Aa-done Momm-mee! Aa-done!

Thankfully, through this process, the Bad Bug has taught my children compassion. Emma now prays for and thanks God for Jack's bottom... I am thoroughly impressed with Jack's sweet and tender heart despite his painful back side. And I am very grateful for Jack's pediatrician, who educates and answers this tired mother's relentless questions.

Regardless, I would still like that microscopic destroyer to do it's time on the X!

Eminism

"Close your eyes then."
-Emma watching SpongeBob Square Pants, after I have asked her to change to channel. (She knows how much I can't stand the brainless show.)