"Are You There, God? Its me, Landon"

Introducing God to Landon on a small scale has been pretty simple. He recognizes images of Jesus and knows several prayers. He prays for me when I'm upset ("Please, Dodd, Pleeeease help Mommy feel better!") and understands that God is out there somewhere....but over the last couple of weeks, I have started seeing how confusing the whole thing can be for a little guy to grasp (and for Mom to explain).

A few days ago, Landon was talking to me about about my Grandma's old crucifix that is hanging on my bedroom wall and I said )something to the effect of, "That's Jesus. He made us." (and after a brief look of disbelief from Landon that the tiny man on our wall was this "Jesus" guy...) I went on to say, "Well THAT isn't Jesus...Jesus is in Heaven. That is just a statue of Jesus, blah, blah, ramble, blah." He kept giving me this, "Mmmhmm, yeah, sure." look and I decided to save that topic for another day.

Another day, before taking a bath in my bathroom, we passed the crucifix again and Landon said, "That's Jesus! It's a statue of Jesus." I patted him on the back for spouting the correct answer (and patted myself on the back for getting through to him) when he turned to me and asked, "What is Jesus' last name, Mommy?"

Errrr....Hmph! ;o)

Anyway, we were sitting in church today and Landon was starting to get that cheeky look on his face (the one that says, "Okay, I'm done.") His legs and arms couldn't stop wiggling--He was sticking his tongue in and out of his mouth and making little noises to amuse himself. I tried leaning across Andy to "mom-hiss" a threatening message in his direction--Didn't deter him at all. Then I tried playing Good Cop and talking sweetly to him, telling him how good I knew he could be, he's my big, big boy, big boys are good in church, etc.....He simply told me that he wasn't really that big. He was still kind of little, actually. This was no amateur I was dealing with. This was a quick and cunning three-year-old. After a few more feeble attempts to get him to calm down, I used the (dreaded and annoying) last resort tactic of bribery: "If you're so, so good, maybe we can go to the playground after church is over!" That just made him restless to go to the playground at that very moment. Not good. I looked at my son, crawling all over the pew and grinning that Dennis the Menace grin and told him that we were in God's house and that God was watching him so he better behave. His little blond head jerked up, immediately at attention. His body was completely still as curious blue eyes darted around the church. Up to the choir loft, back at the altar, behind us near the Baptismal font...I could see the wheels in his head turning. He was finally going to get a peek at this "God" character! After scouring the room for God's watchful (albeit disapproving...according to Mom) gaze for a few minutes, he looked at me like I had played a joke on him ("I don't see God anywhere!") and went back to his shenanigans. We wound up in the choir room. :o)

Teaching Spirituality: Job #4,129,863 of Motherhood. Whew!

What's in Your Purse?

I saw this on Andrea's blog and just had to participate! I have actually been thinking about this a lot lately.

It all began with a diaper bag...the slow dissent into the not-matching "un-stylish-ness" of the what-not-to-wear mom. I can't complain. I made the transition easily. I LOVED having a giant diaper bag to toss everything in to. Extra clothes for Landon (and me)? CHECK! Camera? CHECK! Enough food to feed small country? CHECK! Tissues, first aid kit, hand sanitizer, movie theater candy (hey, no one dares check a diaper bag!)? CHECK, CHECK, CHECK, CHECK! Ahhh, the abyss of the giant diaper bag! A world of endless possibilities! I could pack my life in and pull it back out as needed, more prepared than the best little girl scout. Need tweezers? Tape? stamps? I had it all! I would just start digging, pulling things out like it was Mary Poppins bottomless bag and we'd be in business! I could never get lost, thanks to the trail of things I would drop behind me everywhere I went...And if I ever did, I could live out of my diaper bag for at least a week until someone found me. But, my baby got so old that it became ridiculous to lug my bag-o-junk everywhere we went. I got brave and downsized. I began leaving the house (feeling quite naked) with one of Landon's tiny backpacks. Diaper? Check. Travel box of wipes? Check. Hand sanitizer? Check. Snack? Check. Giant yawn? Check!

THEN, it got even worse. I went down to having one of those storage-box-by-the-car seat numbers in the back seat of my car (that STAYED IN MY CAR--Eek!) filled with a few "just in case" items that a potty-training toddler might need in a toilet emergency. What about the other day-to-day emergencies? What if Landon were to pick chewed gum up off of the sidewalk again and I didn't have sanitizer? What if we were out somewhere and Landon spilled an entire bottle of water on himself? *sigh* I needed my lifeline to look like a put-together prepared mom, but there was no going back.

I now have nothing in tow but a tiny Matt and Nat wallet hanging from my key chain--Yes, its there wherever I go, hanging on for dear life...My little "In Denial Diaper Bag" jam-packed with all the receipts, bonus cards & loose change it can handle...And zoo and library member cards, pretty USELESS health insurance cards (that's a whole other blog post!) my license & usually even my cell phone to boot!--LOL!

What ever happened to the woman of a thousand trendy handbags from the days of yore?? She comes out occasionally for a girls' night on the town, but never without tattling on herself by pulling out an old cookie or Dora the Explorer Band-Aids or Speed Racer car at some point.

....And where are the telltale raisins and cracker crumbs the ever-present marks of pre-school motherhood, you ask? Have no fear--They have not disappeared. They have merely migrated...all over my car! (And sometimes right in my pockets--take your pick!).

I've got it BAD!

You GUYS! I am having total baby fever this week! I am not kidding. We took down Landon's crib over the weekend, and even though we never really used it, I sat there on the floor in the most pitiful way, each piece being marched steadily past me and into a storage closet. I can't explain it, but it was like the last sign of there having been a baby in our house was gone. I hadn't really thought about it much until that moment, but I DO NOT HAVE A BABY ANYMORE....Landon talks, he uses the potty, he feeds himself---no more breastfeeding, no more night-waking...How did this happen?!
I remember, not so long ago, running my finger across the little tuft of barely-there newborn hair on his tiny head, wondering how Andy and I would ever be able to get such a helpless child (alive and in tact, let alone happy and smart!) to the age he is now. And--POOF!--Here we are...In the blink of an eye. My baby isn't a baby. The pictures of him on our walls still boast the delicious little baby-fat rolls and irresistible toothless grins we were so used to, but those have long since disappeared. Even though these things are gone, in their place I have something I cherish equally as much: my precious little boy, abundant energy, corny knock-knock jokes, loud dinosaur impressions and all. I have only traded in the slobbery kisses for dirt-covered ones, right? I have only given up the adoring coos of an infant for the real "I love you" that I now hear from the same little rosebud lips...I have lost nothing and gained everything, and yet somehow it feels like there is a huge void. I'm missing my BABY...
I know some of you who have more than one child (or who have children older than mine) are probably giggling at me right now, reminiscing about the good ole days when you felt this very same way, sad for my distress, but confident I'll cross that bridge eventually, right? I know it will be alright...I'm just having a very hard time. I bet the next thing you're wondering is why I don't just go and have another baby if I miss it so badly? I wish it were that simple for me. I love Landon enough to have ten of him! But, as many of you already know (and are probably sick of hearing), I had a really tough pregnancy with Landon (tough on both of us) and I have been struggling through some really "fun" health issues since his birth in 2005...And though I've always known I wanted to have more than one child, I'm stuck in this terrible place right now, wondering how and when that child (those children) might come to be, unable to commit to a solid decision. After two and a half YEARS of worrying about whether or not I should try to get pregnant or adopt...two and a half years of worrying that I'll be sick again and not be able to be a good mother...worrying about miscarriages and the possibility of suffering with post-partum depression again, it's hard for me to remember that these are things EVERY woman has to think about to some extent while planning a family.
That's just life, right? I want to be able to give my son the sibling he already talks about so lovingly. I want to be able to give up my ridiculous false sense of control. I want to just have faith and trust that God will handle the details. Beyond wanting to, I NEED to. (...Sigh...) Maybe that would make a good New Year's Resolution? Anyways, looking at pictures of Landen and Amelia , Aidan and Brennan, Jack and Sophie & Elaina and Zachary this week has really made me wish I was where so many of you guys already are. You're children are wonderful, your parenting unmatched. I feel so lucky to know all of the moms I have the pleasure of snooping on via blogs each day and if any of you have any advice to bestow on a poor, pathetic worrier....Have at it!