Hunting Eggs

Last Sunday the church (one of 20 in a five mile radius) put on an Easter egg hunt for the kids. Gregg, Kathy, and Eric were here at Hope Farms, so I grabbed a couple of baskets and we headed to the church.

A few of the older kids hid the eggs. The remaining older kids peered out the windows in a not-so-sneaky fashion and tried to spy on WHERE the eggs were being hidden. Eddie was the second youngest. The youngest was an adorable little girl in a cute denim dress named Savannah. Eddie seemed to follow her around as they gathered eggs, and at one point, I encouraged him to give her some of his eggs, which he did selflessly. So cute.

When we first went outside, I told him to look for the eggs, and it took him a few minutes to grasp the concept, but once he realized they were all over the place, I could hardly keep up with him. He was silent and focused the entire time, it was as though this was his first important JOB! haha! I wish I had a camera, because I'd have snapped photos of him in his jeans, spring colored button down shirt and coordinating vest. Yes, I even brushed his hair!

So, imagine a cute picture of said toddler HERE.

After all the eggs were gathered (who knows how many were left out there...) we went inside to open the pastel colored plastic halves to find a bible verse tucked inside. Ann, the Sunday School Teacher read corresponding verses and whomever had a matching verse won a prize. Of course, there were matching verses for all and every child got a prize. And then there was the bags of candy.

CANDY!!! Eddie loves candy. He loudly expressed his delight and shouted, "Mommy! open that one, baby want the big one! CANDY!! Chocolate!". It's a good thing Easter comes once a year. Along with halloween, Christmas, valentines, not to mention birthdays. Of course, I had to sample some of the candy for him, as to ensure it was fresh. hee hee!

This Sunday we'll probably hard-cook some eggs and hide them for Eddie to find. And eat lots of candy. And next year, I'll make more of a concerted effort to teach Eddie the reason for the celebration of this day.

He is Risen.

Presently, ...

There is a toddler and a puppy chasing one another around the house as it's yet a bit too cold to venture outside. There's usually some screaming and barking and little feet pounding the wood floors in this old farmhouse, and I love to hear that sound. Sometimes there is food stolen from his hands (read: puppy) and occasional boo-boo's that need to be kissed and hugged away. And then there are trying times which sound like this: "Eddie, get DOWN from there or you're going to get a spanking!!". Ahhhh. Sweet times.

And when it's quiet? Watch out. Oft times that means that there is an entire roll of toilet paper strewn about the house or a large box of baking soda dumped on to the pantry floor. It's hard to get mad when he's discovering something. And easy to get mad if you're trying to get ready to go somewhere and he manages to get muddy in 0.9 seconds after you open the door to walk to the pickup truck.

All in all, not much gets completed some days when toddler chasing takes priority over housecleaning, or gathering wood, or cleaning out stalls in the barn, but a little bit at a time gets done.

I'm being paged. It seems the puppy is under the bed with one of his favorite tractors, chewing the wheels off.

Must. Go. Rescue. John. Deere.

Mean Moms

I'm sure most of us have seen this before, no doubt in an email with 1245 other email addresses in the "CC to:" field.

Enjoy. I personally plan on printing this out when Eddie turns 11.

Mean Moms

Someday when my children are old enough to understand the logic that
motivates a parent, I will tell them, as my Mean Mom told me: I loved you enough
to ask where you were going, with whom, and what time you would be home.

I loved you enough to be silent and let you discover that your new best
friend was a creep. I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours
while you cleaned your room, a job that should have taken 15 minutes. I loved
you enough to let you see anger, disappointment, and tears in my eyes. Children
must learn that their parents aren't perfect..

I loved you enough to let you assume the responsibility for your actions
even when the penalties were so harsh they almost broke my heart. But most
of all, I loved you enough to say NO when I knew you would hate me for it.Those
were the most difficult battles of all. I'm glad I won them, because in the end
you won, too. And someday when your children are old enough to understand the
logic that motivates parents, you will tell them.

Was your Mom mean? I know mine was. We had the meanest mother
in the whole world!While other kids ate candy for breakfast, we had to have
cereal, eggs, and toast. When others had a Pepsi and a Twinkie for lunch,we had
to eat sandwiches. And you can guess our mother fixed us a dinner that was
different from what other kids had, too.

Mother insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were
convicts in a prison. She had to know who our friends were and what we were
doing with them. She insisted that if we said we would be gone for an
hour, we would be gone for an hour or less.

We were ashamed to admit it, but she had the nerve to break the Child Labor
Laws by making us work. We had to wash the dishes, make the beds, learn to cook,
vacuum the floor, do laundry, empty the trash and all sorts of cruel jobs.
I think she would lie awake at night thinking of more things for us to do. She
always insisted on us telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the
truth. By the time we were teenagers, she could read our minds and had eyes in
the back of her head. Then, life was really tough! Mother wouldn't
let our friends just honk the horn when they drove up. They had to come up
to the door so she could meet them. While everyone else could date when they
were 12 or 13, we had to wait until we were 16.

Because of our mother we missed out on lots of things other kids
experienced. None of us have ever been caught shoplifting, vandalizing other's
property or ever arrested for any crime. It was all her fault. Now that we
have left home, we are all educated, honest adults. We are doing our best
to be mean parents just like Mom was. I think that is what's wrong with
the world today. It just doesn't have enough mean moms!

PASS THIS ON TO ALL THE MEAN MOTHERS YOU KNOW.(And Their Kids)

Sentences, and more...

Watching a child grow is like riding on a fast-moving train, trying to take in all the scenery, and store it in memory.

"baby want milk, mommy". "baby pee on a tree". "mommy make supper?".

Yeah, those are them. Baby sentences. Compliments of a strong-willed, smarter-than-your-average-chicken nearly three year old offspring.

I was looking in the mirror the other day and admiring the fact that I still look like me, when I hear this voice calling from the other end of the house, "mommy, mommy, MOMMY!!!" and I realized, eyes widening, "I'm a MOTHER!". I mean, don't get me wrong, I've known I was a mother since I had the never-to-be-humble opportunity to pee on a stick and see a little pink line appear but occasionally, it hits you. Like a wrinkle. I mean, you KNOW you're going to get them, but when they become visible (in the dark!) it becomes REAL.

Like the Velveteen Rabbit. Ever hear or read that story? Meryl Streep does a great job at narrating the story with some fabulous George Winston piano work. I highly recommend it. Anyway, being a mother is not something you become all at once. You evolve, somewhat, into the role. And being able to interpret 'baby sentences' is kinda like getting a diploma, or a masters degree.

I jokingly refer to myself as a household executive and child development specialist, but really, I'm a stay-at-home mom who likes to do just that. Stay at home. If I had to drop said child off at daycare from 7am to 6pm I think my interpretations skills would be hindered. I would not be 'bi-lingual' in the sense that I can speak adult AND baby.

Eddie has become quite the polite young man, saying his Please, Thank You, and Welcome's when prompted and sometimes not prompted. He can retrieve his shoes from his room, and pull his pants up and down now. Something he says that makes me laugh out loud is "oh my gosh" and "watch mommy, watch". He's a tree-climber from way back.

He can count to three, and knows his name, my name, daddy's name, and the name of the town we live in, and says, "hi there" and "bye bye" to people, when they come to visit, and then go.

Life is good. Toddlerhood is fun. Motherhood is ever-changing. New sentences abound as I type.