Little Godzilla Ruined My Day!

As a military spouse, we face extended times of separation.  During those times it is the job of the people left behind to take care of the families of the soldiers who are gone.  We do everything from mowing lawn to babysitting in order to make sure long times apart are a little bit easier.

My family chose to help another family who was facing an 6 month deployment.  We were happy to jump in.  We didn't know each other very well, but when you're military, you're family.  When that spouse calls, you answer, no matter what! 

The girls and I were getting ready for a picnic with my husband's unit and their families.  Translation: we were all bathed, hair done, cute outfits (and I'd even managed to put on some make-up, which is a VERY rare happening in our house!) and ready to go.

Just as we were on our way out the door, I received a frantic phone call from the spouse who we were supporting.  I automatically feared the worst: the loss of our soldier.  After calming her down enough to understand what she was saying, I was relieved to find out that her husband was fine, but the family lizard was not.  

Yup, that's what I said: The family lizard died! 

After taking a deep breath myself, to process what she'd just said to me, I asked what I could do to help.  She immediately responded that I should come over.  So, without hesitation, I loaded up the kiddos and over we went.

I had no idea what the expect, but when I arrived, she was hysterical.  After calming her down, I asked what she would like to do with the lizard.  She wanted to bury it.  So, we got a box and shovel and out to the yard we went.  She gave me the shovel and, through her crying and mumbling, pointed to the spot she'd like the lizard buried....Looks like I'm the one digging the hole!

So here we are, me (in a super cute sundress and flip-flops w/ full done hair and make up) in the 100 degree heat, digging a hole for some random reptile's final resting place, whilst Little Godzilla's owner is sobbing uncontrollably.  The excavation took about 15 minutes, we lowered the box into the hole, I covered it up and turned around to walk inside.

I thought the weird part of this situation was over, after all, the lizard was in his final resting place.  NOPE-Now I'm asked to say a few words and perhaps a prayer.

At this point, I had no idea what to say, but being the good Pastor's Kid that I am, the 23rd Psalm just started coming out of my mouth....

When I had finished residing over Little Godzilla's funeral service, it was time to leave.  I was SUPER late to the picnic and had to tell my husband and his boss 3 times what had happened b/c no one could really believe I was now officially a reptilian reverend.

In the end, I am happy that in her hard time, I was able to help.  It was weird, but I will do anything for my military sister!  I just hope that next time it doesn't involve any reptiles! 

Picture Perfect Picnic...Not Quite!

We were in the park enjoying a real “movie moment” type picnic.  The girls and I were sitting in our cute outfits on a cute little blanket looking at all the adorable birds flying by-this is the stuff that wins “Mommy of the Year Awards”, people! But, in true Kim fashion, our moment of glorious perfection was quickly dashed, but not by what you might think. 

For my regular readers, I know you’re thinking this moment MUST have been interrupted by someone’s horrible bodily fluid explosion.  Surprisingly, you’re wrong (just wait a few days, I’m sure there will be another “poop post” soon, it’s never too far off with toddlers, that’s for sure!) No, today’s culprit was a squirrel.  I know, sounds ridiculous, what could a sweet, little rodent possibly do to unravel this perfect moment? Well this was no ordinary squirrel, not ordinary at all!

This squirrel was larger than most, about the size of a small puppy.  In Florida, that’s not really too unusual. The weather is nice all year, so I assume that means they don’t have to store away for the Winter, meaning they have an entire extra season to hang out and eat bread from old people-not a bad gig, if you ask me. 

Anyway, so this “larger than normal” squirrel spots our picture perfect picnic and begins to bounce his fluffy, evil, little tail in our direction.  I love animals as much as the next girl, but don’t feed the wild ones. I remember learning in 2^nd grade Science that feeding wild animals messes up their natural ecosystem and I don’t want to be personally responsible for too many uneaten acorns in the world, so I will NOT feed the squirrel.  Please don’t nominate me for any environmental awards, I’m simply doing my part. 

The squirrel sees that I see him-we make full eye contact.  I believe my eyes are communicating, “No food here, Buddy”  He believes my eyes are communicating, “Come on over, I packed some for you too!”  Clearly, I need to work on my squirrel whispering skills.  Now Mr. Squirrel is in a full on sprint towards our picnic.  I stand up to scare him away, but to no avail.  My “lovey eyes” from earlier have apparently removed any possible fear of me he may have had-UGH!

Still, not a big deal, it’s just a squirrel.  Then my girls see him and totally freak out.  By freak out, I don’t mean they scream or stand up.  No, they full-on run in the other direction, as if they saw a bull charging the picnic.  They get about 15 feet away and begin crying and screaming.  Now, everyone in the park who was just admiring our amazingly serene picnic is staring at my kids wondering who those little weirdos belong to. 

At first I was angry, but they were right to be afraid of this squirrel-he got right up on the blanket, despite me actually physically swatting him away.  After I realized I was losing this battle, I walked over to the girls, and we all sat and watched as the squirrel ate the rest of our grapes, cookies, and cheese.  As we were sitting watching this little terror eat our lunch, a sweet older lady came over and said, “Oh, that’s Squeaks, He’s terrible-he steals from everyone AND he bites! Animal control keeps removing him, but he always finds his way back here!”  We were just latest victims of Squeaks the evil, biting, food-stealing squirrel.  

When he was done, we picked up our mess and were on our way.  We’ll try again another day, probably not at Squeaks’ park!  I guess that’s just how life works, you get a few rare moments of picture perfectness and the rest of life is figuring out what to do with the crazy stuff that happens all around you!

It takes more than a village, It takes a Savior!

I’m constantly hearing, “it takes a village to raise a child”.  Now with my own kids, I appreciate help, but I feel like it is mine (and my husband’s) responsibility to be the main influences in our children’s lives while they are growing up.  There is nothing wrong with receiving help from others-we LOVE when a friend or family member invests time in building up our kids. We really appreciate the teachers at our daughter’s school, too, but someday I will be standing before God answering for how I raised my children and I don’t want Him to say that I missed out because I let the “village” raise them for me!

It was a cold day, so the kids and I decided to take a trip to the mall.  We were playing a fun game where my 4 year old lead the way through the winding aisles.   It was a great outing-until an unsuspecting store worker came by with the pallet of death! Ok, maybe a little bit of an overstatement, but with the reaction and winning “mommy moment” that follows, I wanted to DIE!

We’re weaving through the aisles and I see a large pallet of merchandise coming our way.  I quickly tell my 4 year old to move-somehow her hearing is magically gone-amazing how if you whisper the words “ice cream” from 3 rooms away they hear you, but when you’re standing next to them, nothing.  One more time I told her to move, again, nothing.  So, I gently grabbed her arm and guided her out of the way. 

That’s when it happened-she yelled “No, Mommy!” and full-on SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE! What?! Only really bad moms get slapped in the face! Surely, this is not happening to me AND in a very public place…

Immediately a thought popped into my head (from the Holy Spirit I’m sure, b/c in moments I’m at my worst my human nature says, “Hey, Kim, just walk away and pretend they are someone else’s kids until they stop crying”-don’t judge, I know you’ve thought that about your kids at some point too!)

The thought was this: “You don’t need a village, you need a savior!” I’ve been a Christian for a long time-I don’t need to say the prayer of salvation again in  the middle of this, so what is this to mean? Quite simply it means that I need God to inform my parenting-I need to pause, and ask for HIS help.  I have found that means ignoring my human desire to be angry, frustrated, or embarrassed and IMMEDIATELY start praying over my children.  I pray they will hear the words and see the actions they need FROM GOD through me in that moment.  

I literally stop in the middle of wherever I am and begin to pray-not necessarily out loud, although you can! And every time it puts my human nature in check, puts God in charge, and gives me a moment to realize this too will pass!

In that moment, I prayed for 5 seconds while putting my daughter back into the stroller.  After just that quick prayer, my ego (which was damaged and seeking some type of human response to save face) was back in check.   I explained her behavior was unacceptable and we were leaving immediately.  She then began to cry, contort herself in the stroller, and scream “I HATE you, Mommy” all the way out of the store. With my Spirit-led calm, I walked her out to the car without feeling frustrated or even embarrassed.

 At home she was finally calm enough for a real conversation, God was able to speak through me to my daughter as I explained the severity of hitting mommy and dispensed the appropriate punishment.

As you find yourself in those inevitable moments of what I call Parenting Ego Checks, remember, it’s not the village you need, we are all fallen, weak, and human.  What you really need is your Savior!

I encourage you to memorize this verse so in those moments, the Spirit will lead you to prayer, rather than your human response.

Psalm 50:15

“Then call on me when you are in trouble, and I will rescue you, and you will give me glory."

Also, don’t forget to give God the glory, no matter what the situation!

The LONGEST Trip Ever: Part 2

 Day 2: 

We spent the weekend with my sister and her family in Viriginia and then were headed out for day 2 in the car-this one was LONG-it was 8-9 hours down to Georgia.  And leaving was particularly hard for my little ones b/c they LOVE their cousins and were sad we weren’t going to see them again for 6 months!

With renewed confidence, I got every sugary snack, bribe, and sticker I could find, stacked it on the passenger seat and was sure, with lessons learned from the previous driving day, I was much more prepared now.  I know, a sad delusion, but when you’re facing that much time in the car with 2 little kids, reality escapes you-it’s about whatever lie you must tell yourself to survive.  They’re toddlers, if they sense weakness, it’s all over-they will have you crying in a corner in 10 minutes.  No, my kids aren’t particularly naughty or wild, but if you have little kids, you know what I’m talking about.  They study us, find our weaknesses, and then wait for the optimum moment to exploit said weakness to reach their ultimate goal: GETTING THEIR WAY!

So, with visions of parenting and driving grandeur, we were once again on our way.  This time we made it about 1 hour before our first dilemma.  We were driving through the mountains and it started to rain-no big deal, I’ve driven in rain plenty of times, but for some reason, my normally cheerful 2 year old, Annie, decided that the rain was scary, awful, and worth screaming about.

 Normally I just power through the useless cry.  You mommies know what I mean, you just tune it out.  It’s a gift we have, but about 15 minutes into this “the rain is going to kill me” scream of terror, she figure out I was ignoring her.  What’s a toddler to do?! Well, this toddler started grabbing everything she could find and throwing it at the back of my head.

 Now, my husband and I are NOT athletic people AT ALL.  In fact, it’s laughable how awesome we look when playing any sport.  BUT for some reason, little Annie is amazingly accurate with her throwing of random objects.  Perhaps we got an athletic one-a skill I am more than willing to encourage, just not at the moment when I driving 70 mph in the rain, on the mountain roads. 

Once again, 1 hour into the trip and I’ve admitted defeat.  There is nowhere to pull over and we’re in the middle of nowhere with no exits, so I the next thing I do is just plain shameful.  I start grabbing her ammunition-the bags of cookies, tiny toddler shoes, stuffed animals, which are now hitting me in the face and accumulating in my lap and begin throwing them back at her.  BUT like I said before, I have no athletic acumen, which means I’m now just creating mass chaos in the backseat with toys, food, and anything else I can find flying in every direction.  Not my proudest mommy moment.

 All of a sudden both of the kids start laughing hysterically and start yelling, “This is so fun, Mommy” “I LOVE this fun throwing game”….. So somehow in my moment of shameful mommy behavior, my kids still managed to have fun. The rain stopped and  after about 3 minutes, they got bored with the game and went back to simply watching their movie. 

I’m not going to win any “Mommy of the year” awards for that, but thankfully the next 7 hours went by great and we made it to Georgia with my sanity relatively intact and my girls still thinking this is part of some super fun vacation.  That’s the great thing about kids-if they want to have fun, they will. I could learn a thing or two from them about a positive attitude and finding fun in the simple, silly, random things in life!

Mr. Truffle's victory walk

I have to preface this story with the fact that I'm not a morning person.  When I say that, I don't mean I'm simply overly cranky in the morning, or just don't like getting up, I mean there is something wrong with my brain-I just can't function before 9am-we like to call it being "Morningly Challenged".  If you need someone to be on their A game at midnight, I'm you're girl, if you want someone to teach that 7am class, you better look for someone else b/c at 7am I can't even spell my own name!

So, knowing that I'm "morningly challenged" My husband takes Natalie to school most days, but Tuesdays are my turn.  Well, today is Tuesday, so that means I have to be up and functioning with both kiddos in the car and ready to go by 7:30am! Not a major feat for most of you, but quite a challenge for me.  Luckily my sweet Natalie is always up, dressed, and ready to go to school before our alarm even sounds b/c she just loves school (and is blessed to be a morning person like her daddy!).

I get up, put on whatever clothes I can find and go to wake up Annie (my 2 year old) she's like me-mornings are not her friend and she LOVES her sleep! I didn't even bother to get her dressed or shoes before we all shuffled out the door.

We were doing OK on time-we were going to make it just fine, but then we hit traffic, of course! I found a way around, but now we weren't OK on time, we were going to be late.  I HATE being late! Natalie hates being late too, so she's starting to worry b/c we've been in the car too long and she doesn't want to miss anything.

We pull into the parking lot with literally 3 minutes to spare and I rush to get the kids out of the car.  Annie is still not really awake, but Natalie is rushing and ready to go.  I punch in the numeric code to open the front gate of the school and notice that Mr. Truffles, the school's goat, is there to greet us.  That's not uncommon-he's a sweet little white goat with a fun beard that is so great with the kids. I guess now would be a good time to mention she goes to a school that doubles as a ranch, so the kids get to ride horses, pet, and feed all kinds of animals (including Mr. Truffles the resident goat).

We say good morning to Mr. Truffles and the normally subdued goat darts out the front gate that I am holding open for Natalie to walk through.  I immediately start yelling, "Mr. Truffles, come back here" He is now in a full on sprint running through the parking lot.  I too am now in a full on sprint (with my pajama clad bare footed 2 year old on my hip) trying to catch this crazy old man goat before he makes it to the road.  Natalie is also hot on my heels yelling, "Mr. Truffles, come back, I love you, don't go away". 

I catch him just in time for the entire 4 year old preschool class to come out and see what the commotion is all about.  I grab Mr. Truffles and walk him back to the gate (yes, with my 2 year old still on my hip).  It was a glorious moment-kids cheering and clapping at Mr. Truffles triumphant return-and I would have enjoyed the victory if I hadn't been totally embarrassed by the fact that every person who works at my daughter's school was now watching as I took this walk of shame to return the wayward goat I allowed to escape.  What's worse,  according to the school's director, Mr. Trufles has NEVER even attempted to escape for anyone in the 8 years they've had him at the school-EVER, never, Really, Mr. Truffles, on my drop off day, you get bold?!

I only get to drop my daughter off at school 2 days week, so I just had to make sure I made it count, yea, let's go with that story and all be glad that Mr. Truffles is now back in the loving arms of his 30  preschoolers :)