baby talk

There are 2 kinds of baby talk.  The bad kind and the good kind.  I'm all in favor of the good kind and the bad kind makes my stomach turn over.

Bad baby talk - when you talk to a baby/child in a sickly sweet voice and use non-english words and stupify the sentence into bad broken English. AHHH.  it's sickening to listen to.  Some person (on the TTC) of course started to talk to Pumpkin like that and she gave me a funny look and then asked the lady why she was talking funny.  I nearly died laughing!  There is a mother of a 2 year old that I look after that talked to her child in this kind of baby talk and I want to bang my head on the wall.  The result? that's how he talks.

Good baby talk - repeating sounds that the baby is making.  This encourages them and lets them know that they are making good sounds.  I watch a 1 year old that I have been caring for since she was 3 months old.  She's really started to use language lately.  If she said "ah-baa-baa"  I will repeat it just how she said it.  This causes her to beam from ear to ear and giggle and then she will say another sound in her vocabulary.  Last week she pointed to Pumpkin and tried to say her name - which is three syllables!  "ah-baa-dee" was she the baby said, but that's pretty good for a 1 year old.  Pumpkin turned around the look on the baby's face was priceless.

I talk to children and babies in the same tones and speech patterns that I talk to adults in.  I my simplify my language so they can understand what I'm saying, but unless you talk properly to your child, how are they to learn proper speech patterns and vocabulary?  they can't unless they are taught.

Dinosaurs

Boo LOVES dinosaurs.  He knows their names, what they eat and if they were big or small.  We have a box of toy dino's and they are played with daily.

Now the problem.  We live in a creation VS evolution world.  evolution is taught in school, but not creationism and so I'm left in the middle with more questions than I have answers.  I firmly believe that God is responsible for creating the earth and the universe for that matter.  But this have been a real challenge of my faith in regards to several aspects.  Did God do it in 6 days? what is a day as defined in Genesis - taking into account that context can change meanings...so the word for day has several meanings like  a 24 hour period or a length of time in relation to another length of time.  If God created all things, then there were Dino's in the garden of Eden.  Why did they go extinct but other animals who were around at the time didn't?  What about the flood - were dino's on the arc?  What about in the book of Job (chapter 40 near the end) an animal is described that sounds VERY much like an dino. (not to mention dragons and unicorns are in there too)  I have found so much info that I feel like I'm on sensory overload and I'm trying to make sense of it all so that I can present the truth to my kids.

I bought a book called What Really Happened to the Dinosaurs and have found several other really good resources at Focus On The Family.  Furthermore, a good friend of mine who has a blog does a bit called Think About It Thursday - Here is the link for her blog, and she has a lot of useful information.

We are called to cotinuously "work out our salvation" so this area needs working out.  However, for the moment I only have 4 words: I don't really know.

sometimes parenting sucks!

it really does.  It sucks when I have to say no, or maybe later.  It sucks when they break the rules and I have to administer discipline or there's a negative consequence.  It sucks when they cry and are upset and I can't seem to comfort them....and they haven't even reached school age yet!  that will bring a whole new level to "fun and drama".

I dislike the word "punishment".  You punish criminals, not children.  You discipline children - they are still learning, then need guidance and correction, not harshness.

In our house, they get a warning "that wasn't the right response - what do you think you should have done differently?" or sometimes I just tell them if they can't figure it out.  And then I lay out a consequence if they choose to do it again. "if you choose to hit your brother on purpose again, you will go sit in time out for 4 minutes" or whatever other consequence, like deprivation of special things, like a tv show or a treat. I use 1 minute as per the age of the child and set a timer so there's no second guessing.  If that STILL fails, then I resort to a spank.  but I have rules for spanking:
1. they child MUST understand why/  why they are getting a spank. what they did wrong. etc.  If they don't, it's only punishment and accomplishes nothing.
1. NEVER in public or in a way that will shame them. Again, it's not designed to hit and humiliate them...or else that's all they will learn how to do.
1. NEVER be angry when you spank.  If you tell your child to learn to control their temper, then you better be able to control yours.
1. tell them then number of spanks they are going to get.  I give 3 - always.
1. Pray and love.  After they have been spanked, pray with them, tell them how much you love them.

Yes they are all labeled 1. because they are all equally important.

I also try not to yell.  This demonstrates to my kids that I do not have control over myself, but then I tell them that they need to control themselves?  doesn't work very well.

and lastly, I have 2 saying in my house that I use often:
"Listen and obey right away"
"the first time I say it, you obey it"

They have their own minds and will, thoughts and feelings and that isn't meant to be authoratative and controlling.  But if I say, "ok, it's bed time, please go brush your teeth" - then I expect them to get up and brush their teeth.  Or "we are going to eat lunch in 10 minutes, it's time to tidy up the toys" - then I expect them to tidy up.  If they have an objection, then they need to ask "can I have 2 more minutes please" or "may I finish up this puzzle first?"

 I try not to hinder their play unless they are engaging in something dangerous either to themselves or others.  Boo Supermaning off the couch while there is a baby crawling on the floor is not the best idea. I have nothing against trying to be superman, just not around crawling infants.

Am I perfect? certainly not.  I fail, I break some of these rules some times.    I do my absolute best to be consistent as much of the time as possible and to make sure that my husband and I are on the same page.  Pumpkin will ask him for something and he'll say no, and then she'll come ask me and I say "daddy said no, so I'm saying no too."
And even if I don't agree with the no - I will back him up (and he does likewise to me)....although sometimes I object in front of the kids (oops) but I'm pretty good at catching myself.

Finally Twaddle Free!

It is with great pride and pleasure that I can finally say that we are now "Twaddle Free".  If you are reading this and wondering "what on earth is twaddle?", it is dumbed down literature; absence of meaning.  I'm not talking about books that are simple so children can understand them or are learning to read.  I mean books that have no meat, no merit that are empty words strung on pages.  I also gave away some disney stories.  Pumpkin prefers the REAL stories as supposed to the re-told disney versions.

I would never buy twaddle books, however i was given a bunch of books and my kids got into them before I could go through and edit.  Sadly there were a few that they really liked, but they had to go.

Our shelves are now stocked with "Living Books" - books that are well-written and engaging–they absorb the reader–the narrative and characters “come alive”; living books are the opposite of cold, dry textbooks.  I actually had to edit our toy collection to make room for more books.  About half the toys we own I would have ditched long ago, but because I run a home day care, I need toys that will entertain the wide age range I take care of.  My kids aren't really into Little People anymore - they like to play with REAL animals - but the 11 month old I watch loves them!

In my extensive homeschool research I chose the Charlotte Mason philosophy.  I saw this link for twaddle-free books listed by grade that was a great resource.

Casting Lots

Proverbs 18:18
Casting the lot settles disputes and keeps strong opponents apart. 

"Casting Lots" is equal to flipping a coin, or drawing straws or rolling a dice or any number of other ways.  Some may say it's gambling, but when used as in tended (with prayer and for the purpose of settling disputes) then it is righteous.

As we ALL know, kids fight over toys, books, who gets to go first, who's turn it is in the front seat etc.  Yesterday was "one of those days" and my 2 children decided to fight over everything.  VERY trying on my patience. (which I confess I did lose once)

Needless to say, I had had enough!  As I was walking by the fridge, the "Brother Offend Check List" caught my eye.  On the chart was the verse from Proverbs 18 as quoted above.  So I made the kids a dice and explained the verse and said this was the new way to settle disputes or arguments.  They are to roll the dice and who ever has the highest number get to go first and the other person gets the opportunity to practice patience and wait their turn.  They really liked this idea.

Later in the day when they were fighting (again) over something, Pumpkin said "stop, we have to cast lots."  Both kids walked over to the book shelf, got he dice and took turns rolling,  Boo got to go first this time.

The dirt under my finger nails

It could take several days of scrubbing to get it all out!  Maybe I should buy gardening gloves?  Nah....I love the feeling of the earth beneath my hands to much.

You see before you (starting closest to you)  6 raspberry plants, 2 blueberry bushes, 2 blackberry plants and 1 strawberry plant.  I figure the strawberry play will span out quite a bit so i might not need more than 1.  I still have to steak the raspberry plants, but there is plenty of time for that as they are not big enough yet to require steaks.

It was a big pain in the butt to rip up all the grass and shake - or beat) the soil from the roots.  And I kept finding lumps of coal in the dirt.

The rocks are to protect the earth from the rain. That's the spot where the rain falls off the roof and hits the ground.

And of course, The pin wheel at the end.  I had 2 of them but Matt broke the other one :(  Good thing they are from the dollar store.


Next I have to tackle the back-yard along the fence.  There we plan to plant some veggies that we like to eat.  And I suspect that I will have an equally difficult time with the grass and I know I'll have an extra challenge with rocks.  See how at the end of the photo  is the driveway full of rocks?  my property backs onto  a parking lot full of rocks.  so that might be a problem, but I won't know until I start digging.

Also along the side of the house I'm going to plant some herbs that I will bring inside for the winter so I can have fresh herbs all winter long.  YUM!

You might remember that my kids planted some stuff in pots during the winter.  I'm sad to report that Pumpkin was overzealous in watering them and consequently they died.

My Messiah Lives!

I watched numbly, looking up to the good and gentle man who hung on a cross before me…He had been my friend. I thought he was the Messiah, the living Son of God, who would save His people, like he had saved me. But I confess I found myself doubting….there he was dying before my eyes. Why would he not save himself? I didn’t understand. I felt such pain, grief and anger rip through my soul I thought I would break.

The thief crucified next to Jesus turned to him. I strained to hear as the man murmured, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."

Jesus' words to the condemned man echoed clearly across the hilltop: "Today you will be with me in Paradise." A chill tingled down my spine. Even at death, Jesus kept on forgiving. My thoughts surged back to the first time I had met him and how my life was changed forever.

I grew up in a village along the Sea of Galilee. I was wealthy yet I was unhappy.

I was no stranger to the oppression and torment of the demonic. Often driven to compulsive, destructive acts, I despised myself, hated my deeds, but couldn't seem to stop. I tried so hard, I called out to God in the middle of my darkness to rescue me. Finally, my husband grew disgusted and impatient with my erratic behaviour. He sent me back home to my father. I thought my life was over until I heard of a man from Nazarene was teaching great things. My heart leapt into my throat. Maybe he could help me!

The kingdom of God was right here, he said. He talked of forgiveness, of cleansing, of wholeness. The sick and maimed were healed when he touched them. God seemed to be all around. At Jesus' command demons would come out screaming, and lives were liberated and transformed.

I felt strangely drawn to Him…yet there was this nameless terror raging inside me. Could I trust Him? Dare I even try? What if he couldn’t help me? What if he rejects me? I had to force myself to join the group that crowded around Jesus. My turn came at last. I looked up in panic. He looked down in love.

Then his eyes narrowed and seemed to pierce right into my soul. I stepped back in fear. “Oh no! What have I done?” I thought. His words were hard: "Come out of her, you foul demons, and let her go!" My body stiffened, my chest tightened. I thought I would burst. I wanted to scream. And then it was over. My muscles began to relax. I saw his gentle smile. "Mary, you're forgiven," he said, "and you're free."

Free?  I thought.  Dare I even hope that might be true? Then I realized that I was free! I felt so clean, so light, so renewed. I wanted to dance, to sing. I jumped up and started hugging all the startled women who stood nearby. I skipped home that night. Joy and peace consumed me.

An aching cry from the cross jerked me back to the present. My Lord was dying.

I listened through my tears. The voice that once proclaimed God's kingdom on the hillsides of Galilee now shouted hoarsely, "It is finished!" His head dropped to his chest.

Thunder clouds which had been gathering ominously all afternoon now cracked. Lightning flashed across the gruesome hilltop. Jesus' body hung limp; the others writhed. Around her she could hear the sobbing of Jesus' mourners. She took one long last look, then buried her face and wept.

Whack! An ear-splitting scream from one of the thieves pierced the eerie darkness. A soldier had shattered his legs with a club to make sure he died before Sabbath began at sundown. Whack! Another scream.

They came to Jesus. Oh, no, dear God, spare him, I prayed. He's already dead. The centurion knew, I could see, but to make sure, he motioned to a soldier to thrust his spear into the Teacher's chest. Bloody water gushed out, and then slowed to a dribble for a time. Surely, he was dead.

A soldier began to loosen the nail that fixed Jesus' feet to the cross. Two others on ladders unlashed the crossbeam from the upright and carefully lowered it -- Jesus' body still attached -- to their compatriots below. A couple minutes more were needed to pull the spikes from splintered holes in the crosspiece where countless other hands had bled.

Now I recognized Nicodemus who brought two new disciples. They were carrying a stretcher onto which they lifted the body. In the courtyard outside the sepulcher, I carefully washed the pale body, removing every trace of dried blood from his mutilated back.

Night was falling. Nicodemus and the others worked quickly now, binding the body with long strips of linen, enfolding what few spices they had with them as they wrapped. Finally, they tenderly lay the body on a limestone niche in the new tomb. I watched while they heaved the massive stone into place across the opening to the tomb. It was dark when they turned to leave.

The Sabbath seemed to drag on endlessly. Despite the pain the thought evoked, I determined to go back Sunday morning to finish anointing the Master's body with spices. I owed him that.

Saturday's sun finally dipped below the mountains; Sabbath was over I hurried to the spice merchant's shop and pounded on the door until he came downstairs and let me in. Spices for a burial, I insisted. No, I couldn't wait till morning.

Sleep that night came in brief snatches. Long before sunrise, I was dressed to meet two other women I’d asked to help me. Gray dawn streaked the sky as they set out. Hurrying along, I had forgotten about the stone! Who will move it?

As we came in sight of the tomb, I gasped. The stone had already been pushed aside. "Grave robbers!" I cried. "Can't they leave him alone -- even in death?"

I ran and ran until I found Peter and John. "They've taken the Lord's body out of the tomb," I said breathlessly. "We don't know where they've put him!"

Peter and John took off sprinting. Too tired to run any farther, I trudged slowly back to the garden tomb. I peered into the dank tomb.

Only coiled shroud-wrappings remained where the body had been. Suddenly, the dim tomb was lit by the dazzling appearance of two men. Instinctively, I shielded my eyes from the brightness and bowed in terror. One of the angels spoke:

"Why do you seek the living among the dead?"

What does he mean? I wondered. What is he talking about?

"You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen as he said."

I was dazed, even after the angels departed. Risen? I thought. How could Jesus be alive? I had washed the corpse myself. Wasn't it just too good to be true? Could I cling to something this wonderful only to have my hopes dashed once more?

But if it were true……. if it were true, then Jesus' whole life had meaning. If it were true, then he was the Messiah after all. If it were true, then the One who healed my tormented spirit had conquered death itself. If it were true....

The sound of footsteps intruded on my thoughts. I glanced up. It must be the caretaker, the gardener. He asked me why I was weeping and who I was looking for. Didn't he know who had been buried here? I asked him to return the body if he had taken it. I looked at the ground, struggling to hold back my tears. He couldn’t help me. The only one who could help me was gone.

He reached out and lifted my chin until our eyes met. As I looked through my tears, he said my name. My heart raced, my hair stood up on my arms. Could it be? Oh! It WAS Him! I dropped to my knees and kissed his feet. Jesus, my Lord was alive! Alive forever more! After a few moments, I looked up but He had slipped away. I ran and told the disciples what had happened. They were cynical and jeered at me “Sure, Mary…..why should the Lord appear to YOU anyway – a woman and one with YOUR history no less?”

Why indeed? I thought. He appeared to His disciples later that same day…but He had chosen me first! Maybe to show me that I was truly accepted. Maybe to calm my doubt. Maybe to show that his forgiveness was forever. Why indeed? I was never sure. But this I did know: My Messiah lives!