Just a small reminder to myself how much I love these babies:

They stretch me
teach me
love me
forgive me
annoy me
bless me
They fill my heart and life with joy
Don't know what I'd do or who I'd be without them!

I think one of the biggest misconceptions I had about parenting was that I somehow have the power to change my kids. I don't doubt for a minute that I am the biggest influence in their lives, and that as their mother I am shaping them to be a certain way in life. (Scary.) But I always thought that I was put here to change them. That somehow, if I learned the right formula, or said the right words, or disciplined them in exactly the right way, that they would change. That somehow I could discipline the sin right out of them.

I don't think I am stupid for thinking this, when there are books out there that claim they have figured out "God's way" to parent (which, by the way, only makes me feel as though I am not raising them God's way) and others who say there are "five simple steps to behaving children." I've talked to parents who make me feel like if I had only trained them properly from the time they were born, I wouldn't be dealing with temper tantrums, and back-talking, and all the other sinful behaviour that their kids don't have.

Forgive me if I sound cynical; I really don't mean to be. But I have slowly been discovering that I cannot and will not change my children. It is humanly impossible for me to do so. Yes, I can give them the tools they need to learn how to manage their anger. I can teach them how to exhibit self-control in their lives. I can teach them not to hit, not to yell, not to be mean. I have no doubt, like I said before, that what I teach them now, will stay with them forever.

But that deep-seated sin that is so prevalent in their lives, and in mine, I will never get it out of them. That is something only God can do. He is the only one who can save them. I will not, even though I would like to, save my kids. The sin that they have inside of them now, will always be there to haunt them. Even if (when!) the Lord saves them, they are still going to be wrestling with their sinful behaviours. The anger they feel now will still be felt when they are adults. The jealousy and sarcasm and laziness that afflict them now will still be afflicting them when they are older.

I think the most I can do as a mom is teach them what I know. I can teach them how to deal with all of the things that most of us deal with on a daily basis. I can only point them to the Lord, remind them that He is their Saviour. I can pray, pray, pray for them, but I cannot and will not ever be able to do what only the Lord can do.

I realize I've written about this very thing before, but it's an ongoing struggle/journey with me.

March break.

We are home after almost a week away and it feels so good. There really is nothing more comforting than home and regular routines. Being away for a while makes me appreciate our normal that much more. That being said, we did have a wonderful time away, seeing relatives that we do not get to see very often. The kids had fun with close-in-age cousins and I honestly could not have asked for a better week. The kids' behaviour was great, and it was great to spend time with my in-laws.

What we did:

Lucas and I played Scrabble with his mom, one in which he soundly beat us, causing us to call for a rematch, which was much more fair. (Translation: He didn't beat us that time.)

I got to shop with the mother-in-law and sisters-in-law.

The boys got to go to Zigzag Zoo, which is the place to go when you're five and six. An indoor playground with a cousin you never get to see? Heaven.

We got to visit Candy and Matt and the boys' had a blast trading hockey cards with Matt!

We had an adults only chocolate fondue at Marie's on Friday night!

We visited a sugar shack, a museum, went to a birthday party, played in Uncle Arnold's barn (not me), played lots of games and ate lots of food (sweet bread and almond squares were high on my list).

In general, an all round great week with family. Surprisingly we took a few pictures. Very unlike us, but we did manage to make ourselves take at least a few shots. Here are some:

Amelia and her cousin Maddie (Emma is on the left)

Nicholas and Jacob and their best cousin, Neil
I wish we lived closer together for their sakes!
These three get along so well!

It was so fun to see Ceek!

Grandma and Amelia

Grandpa and Amelia

Me, Candy, Marie, and Ruth :)

As we were getting ready to leave Saturday morning, Lucas was downstairs packing (I think the kids were with him) and Lucas' mom was in her sewing room, his dad was already gone to Toronto. So it was just me in the livingroom and I decided to go downstairs and do a last check and take some stuff to Lucas that had been laying around. I grabbed the stuff and walked confidently towards the (hardwood) stairs... but then I somehow lost my footing and my feet when out from under me and I went the rest of the way down the stairs on my back. Only five or six steps, but they are hard. And I am big. I sat on the bottom step and cried, OW! From a very great distance away, it seemed, I could hear Lucas and his mom come running to me from their respective places in the house. (Lucas told me later that my fall had been very loud.) I could hear Lucas in a slow motion voice (or maybe my shocked brain only made it sound that way) going, "Oh no. Oh no. No," as he came running towards me. I could hear his mom going, "Don't move! Don't move!" I wanted them to know I was (relatively) okay, "Nothing's broken, I'm just really bruised!" I wailed. I have vague recollections of Lucas and the boys hugging me and Lucas' mom rubbing anti-bruising cream all over my arm. Now, the whole right side of my body feels wrenched and sore and I have huge bruises on my derriere and arm. (One bruise is very light, probably where the cream went, but the others are hideously purple. Well, I wasn't about to start slathering cream on my behind now, was I?)

That is my story. Also, later that day, I almost slipped and fell in mud at Tim Horton's going in, and going out I missed a step on the sidewalk and almost fell again. I also banged my head getting into the car at one point. Klutzy much? Either that or I have some kind of disease that is wrecking my coordination skills. 

Well, I guess our vacation went out with a bang! Har har.

His eye is on the sparrow.

I sometimes wonder what Mary was thinking when the angel came to her. From the outside, it seems she was full of faith and her only question was a logical one, not one of doubt. How can this be, since I do not know a man? I'm sure she did have a very strong faith in God, otherwise He would not have chosen her. Still, she was only a young girl. She would have known right away how this was going to reflect on her. She knew she could easily be stoned for being pregnant out of wedlock. She knew the shame, ridicule, and shunning that would come her way once people found out. All this is huge. These are all things that most of us would shy away from. Was there a little piece of her heart that quaked in fear? Did she tremble at the harsh words she would have to face? Did she wonder if Joseph would reject her when he found out? I don't doubt for a minute that she was thinking all of this. She was only human after all. But I think she knew something that I would do well to remember: She knew that God was in control. Mary knew that God would never have asked this of her if He did not already have all the details figured out. Yes, Joseph could very easily have wanted to have her stoned, but Mary knew that God wasn't going to let the mother of His Son die. She knew that God wouldn't give her this enormous task without also giving her the strength to get through it. And so she had peace.

How much I can learn from this! My tendency is to fret and stew and when I'm done, fret and stew some more. One time, before my uncle got saved, he said he was questioning God and he was in so much turmoil, but he could sense God's peace through it all. He describes it like a hurricane, with all the angst and fear swirling round and round, but in the middle - the eye of the storm - he could see Jesus and whenever he looked at Him, he felt peace. This is how it is for me sometimes. All of my fear, anxiety, and what have you make me feel so disquieted, but underneath it all, if I let myself really be still, I feel peaceful. It is there, I just don't always let myself feel it. He is there. God is control. He knows the future, he knows the past, and He is here, right now.

Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,

Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home,

When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

I sing because I’m happy,

I sing because I’m free,

For His eye is on the sparrow,

And I know He watches me.

“Let not your heart be troubled,” His tender word I hear,

And resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears;

Though by the path He leadeth, but one step I may see;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

Whenever I am tempted, whenever clouds arise,

When songs give place to sighing, when hope within me dies,

I draw the closer to Him, from care He sets me free;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;

His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

Once upon a time I had a baby boy and nineteen months later, I had a another baby boy. I was so excited that my big boy would have a brother to play with, someone to be his very best friend. In our circle of friends, there is no one who has a boy in the age range of my boys and I don't want to encourage non-Christian friends too strongly so it was very thrilling to me that my boys would always have each other.

What I didn't count on? Having two boys means double the trouble.

If one makes a bodily noise, the other will laugh uproariously and probably even try to do it too.

Boys like to wrestle, which means there is always a willing partner on hand.

Bathroom talk is an ordinary topic of conversation.

Being hyper and wild (also known as jumping/running/shouting/bouncing off walls - simultaneously) is very, very, very contagious and runs rampantly. The only known cure is separation/isolation. Quarantine?

One can never get a serious talking to from a parent with the brother present. It always ends in two giggling boys and two very frustrated parents.

Little sister gets double the torture.

Burping is a given.

Fighting is inevitable.

BUT...

A brother is a built-in playmate. A brother always has your back when others are teasing you. A brother is always up for game-playing and bike riding, DS tournaments and Lego structures. A brother is Playmobil and soccer and building things and sledding. Together. He is someone who laughs at your stupidest jokes, someone who understands you, who accepts you, faults and all.

A brother is something a boy just needs.

A friend loves at all times,

    and a brother is born for adversity.

Psalm 139.

1 O LORD, you have searched me and known me! 
2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up; 
you discern my thoughts from afar. 
3 You search out my path and my lying down 
   and are acquainted with all my ways. 
4 Even before a word is on my tongue, 
   behold, O LORD, you know it altogether. 
5 You hem me in, behind and before, 
   and lay your hand upon me. 
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; 
   it is high; I cannot attain it.
7 Where shall I go from your Spirit? 
   Or where shall I flee from your presence? 
8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there! 
   If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! 
9 If I take the wings of the morning 
   and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, 
10 even there your hand shall lead me, 
   and your right hand shall hold me. 
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, 
   and the light about me be night,”
12 even the darkness is not dark to you; 
   the night is bright as the day, 
   for darkness is as light with you.
13 For you formed my inward parts; 
   you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
   my soul knows it very well.  
15 My frame was not hidden from you, 
when I was being made in secret, 
   intricately woven in the depths of the earth. 
16 Your eyes saw my unformed substance; 
in your book were written, every one of them, 
   the days that were formed for me, 
   when as yet there was none of them.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! 
   How vast is the sum of them! 
18 If I would count them, they are more than the sand. 
   I awake, and I am still with you.
19 Oh that you would slay the wicked, O God! 
   O men of blood, depart from me! 
20 They speak against you with malicious intent; 
   your enemies take your name in vain.
21 Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD? 
   And do I not loathe those who rise up against you? 
22 I hate them with complete hatred; 
   I count them my enemies.
23 Search me, O God, and know my heart! 
   Try me and know my thoughts!
24 And see if there be any grievous way in me, 
   and lead me in the way everlasting!

Dressed and waiting to go on the ice!

In the last couple of weeks, Nicholas has started reading chapter books! This is one of the most exciting things for me as a mom, seeing my kids learn to read. But not only can he read, I'm hard pressed to get his nose out of his book when it's time for bed. I don't expect all my kids to be avid readers; we are all different after all, and Lucas is not a reader in the least. I'm just really excited that so far, Nicholas seems to really enjoy it. Jacob does too for that matter. He is just starting his reading journey though, being only at a level 2, maybe 3, whereas Nicholas is now at a level 19. Still, Jacob has started bringing home books from school to practice with and he loves reading them over and over. He seems to be catching on really well too, which makes me think: maybe I will have two readers!

Nicholas using a pylon, although he doesn't really need it.

I also have the boys in skating lessons. Once a week, at 4:00 on Wednesdays, for half an hour. We are half way into them and they both are doing well. I put them both in the lowest class, which is great for Jacob who can't skate to save his life, but Nicholas should technically be in a class above. I couldn't get him in though because I registered them too late. Oh well, I figure he is at least on the ice getting practice. Both boys seem to really enjoy it. Jacob hated it at first, but has gotten used to it. He normally uses a chair or a pylon to stand up with, but the last two lessons he has to try skating with nothing, and it's hilarious. I just sit in the stands and laugh my head off at him. Poor guy. At least the falling doesn't seem to bother him; he just gets up and tries again.

Jacob hanging onto a chair for dear life :)

And my girl... is toilet trained!! I don't know how it happened, but one day after Christmas she woke up dry and has been in underwear ever since. I still stick a pullup on her at night, just to be safe, but once our stash of pullups is gone, I'm not buying any more. There have been a couple of accidents, but honestly, it has been a breeze! I feel bad saying that, because I know there are moms who are really struggling with the toilet training thing but don't feel bad! Each child is different. But one thing I will say? Waiting until they are ready and interested makes a huge difference!

Girly waiting (not so) patiently for her brothers.