Beyond Sibling Rivalry ...

From my Oct. 2003 journal -- when both our Marines were home at the same time.

I watch my sons as they wrestle on the living room floor. With ragged breathing and chests heaving, they are each determined to make the other "tap out and cry uncle." Two strapping Marines, this is the first time they've been home on leave together. Right now they are venting a little energy and revisiting their former sibling rivalry.

My mind wanders back to their childhood days, where I see two little boys with building blocks working side by side to construct a castle. Those same two boys spent hours riding their bikes outdoors, whizzing past one other in their own version of the Indianapolis 500.

At other times, they camped out in their bedroom to play with dozens of plastic army soldiers; it was strategic warfare at its best. If I was looking for one son, I'd usually find them both. Side by side, they were best buds.

Fast forward a few years, and their personal interests took vastly different turns in the road. The older son liked being outdoors and playing sports; the younger chose to stay inside and concentrate on computer games. They chose new friends based upon these personal interests and time spent together dwindled. Teasing and tormenting soon followed.

Later, when those definitive male hormones kicked in, the desire to outdo each other escalated. But they were not on level playing fields. The "athlete" with large hands and fast feet could easily beat his brother in basketball. The "geek" was faster at figuring out the newest video games and trumped his brother time and time again. Tempers flared, and they side-stepped one another often. Sadly, neither one seemed to need an in-house best bud any longer.

Today, though, I'm watching them as they interact on a level playing field. Both are strapping young men; both have tanned bodies that are well-muscled and hardened by military training. They have more in common because they've faced the same obstacles -- the dreaded tear gas chamber, the swim test in full combat gear, the renowned "crucible" before graduation. No longer are they fighting one another; my sons stand together to fight oppression and to protect their country.

Beyond sibling rivalry, my sons are best buds once again. I smile when one of my them taps out of the wrestling match. His brother stands, offers a hand and pulls him up. Grinning at me, they hook their arms around each others' shoulders and head to the kitchen for a snack.

Also found on Helium.com along with many other parenting articles I've written -- http://www.helium.com/users/404118

Summer Surprises ~

In my little corner of the world, summer is almost upon us. It's a season that stirs sweet memories for me ... sleeping bags in the backyard while watching for shooting stars ... catching fireflies in a jar ... listening for the ice cream truck. It also stirs memories of one particular lakeside cabin in the summer of '88.

We had packed a few duffel bags and our three little kittens (er, kiddos) into the station wagon for a few days away. In the photo above, I'm behind the camera performing a feat only another mother could ever hope to accomplish.

While one eye was focused on this idyllic scene, the other was keeping watch on a very-active toddler. All afternoon, he'd been fascinated with the three stone steps at the end of the cabin's deck. And try as I might, there was no deterring his desire to conquer them!

So I was close by with band aids for boo-boos ... and a long-arm reach. I'm quite sure he was thinking, Why go down backwards on hands and knees when you can stand up and fall face forward?

Thankfully, hubby closed his tackle box for the evening soon after the camera clicked. Three hungry "fishers" came back to the deck where we grilled hot dogs for a summer-time cookout.

When five tummies were full, we settled on the front porch to watch the sun slip into the water. Not long after that, the Lord dropped a curtain of black around us just before the silver stars punched through. That's when the children began to yawn and snuggle down into their sleeping bags.

Something about summertime at a lakeside cabin unwinds the kinks in your shoulders and psyche. It also puts a lot of things in perspective ... like how small we are compared to the vast creation surrounding us ... or how unimportant the hubbub of daily life really seems when you're sitting under the stars ... and how a loud chorus of katydids, crickets and tree frogs stirs a symphony within one's soul.

A movement at the end of the porch caught my eye just then, and I tapped hubby's arm. He'd seen it too -- a doe and her fawn heading out of the woods and down to the water. The older two children followed whispered instructions to lie very quietly. It was one of those sweet summer surprises.

"Little Bit" had a pacifier in his mouth and was drifting off to lullabye-land, unaware of the drama unfolding just a few feet away. Thanks to the insects' symphony, Bambi never heard us whispering -- or suspected we watched as he followed Mother Doe to the lake.

Phillip and I are talking about renting a lakeside cabin again. Maybe we will even return to the very same cabin and stir up some precious memories. Our children are grown and gone, which means there will be less to pack and fewer hot dogs to grill. There will be plenty of time to read and relax and snap idyllic scenes with my digital camera -- and no need to keep one eye on those stone steps.

I'm quite certain my mommy heart will reminisce and feel a little melancholy. Thankfully, the overwhelming quiet will be drowned out by katydids and crickets in the evenings. And I'm quite that once the sun slips into the water, the Lord will drop another black curtain over the lake just before the silver stars show up.

That's when I'll look up into the glorious heavens and sigh with contentment. We've still got three children and two more who've married into the family. We've also got a new grandson and another baby boy due in September to our son and his wife.

Who knows? One of these days we may have the grandchildren with us on a trip to the lake ... and I'll be keeping one eye on those stone steps again. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy this stage of life with my hubby. More summer surprises are bound to be just around the corner!

Back to babies

We've had an empty nest since 2003, but today our grandson is here for his first visit. It's good to get back to babies again!

I've sure enjoyed changing tiny diapers and giving Ethan his first bath in our home. He's given us lots of sweet smiles -- arching his back to get closer when we bend over him. The way he coos up at me melts my Nana heart!

Last night he met his great grandpa (hubby's dad) for the first time What a joy to see 87 year old "Dad" bond with his 2-month-old great-grandchild. (see photo)

This afternoon, my Mom will be here and get to meet her great grandson. She's 84 and is excited - even if he *is* her 22nd great-grandchild! Then tonight the church here is giving a baby shower, so there will be lots more "firsts."

Ethan will meet my four sisters, who are traveling in from Indiana, Kentucky and lower Alabama to be here. My sister-in-law and her two sweet girls are coming from Tennessee. It's going to be one more family reunion!

Babies have a way of helping us stop and focus on what really matters -- life, family, love. No matter how busy we get or how fast we rush from day to day, babies slowing everything down to the basics: eating, sleeping, and being with family. It's good to get back to babies!

Company's comin'

One week from today my little nest will be buzzing with activity. Our daughter and grandson will be here for a few days so he can meet his great-grandparents.

My father-in-law grins often just thinking about meeting his first-great-grandchild. He's always been known for rocking babies while singing "In the Sweet By and By." Our children loved that song and I suspect Ethan will, too. My mother-in-law would have enjoyed this so much, but I'm sure she'll be watching from heaven.

Then there's my Mom, who is anxious to meet Ethan for the first time. He is her 22nd great grandchild! My Dad died not long after his first great-grandchild was born in 1990, but he was always a good playmate for the grands. I'm sure he's waiting to meet all the rest some day ...

Besides family, the folks of our church (who saw Melissa grow up,) have planned a baby shower for Ethan on May 22. What a whirlwind weekend it will be with lots of love, cuddles and hugs!

While the baby shower was still in the planning stages, we learned my sister from Brazil, South America, is going to be stateside for a few weeks. She and her hubby and their older son, (whom they haven't seen for years!) will also be here during that weekend. Mom is extremely excited about having her girl back home for a good hug and some precious time to catch up.

Can't wait to fill the special role of hostess to my family next week/end. I've been a sister-at-heart for 50 + years. I'm still a parent-at-heart to our lovely daughter (and her brothers). And now I'm a grandparent-at-heart! How very blessed I am.

A crazy day at the library ~

The following story is true. Names have not been changed to protect the innocent ...

^{For four glorious hours, I will have perfect peace! No chattering children and no dirty diapers to deal with. No one at my elbow asking for another drink or if they can go outside on a cold, wet day. Today is all mine! I smile and wiggle my toes, then slip out of bed and into comfortable clothes.}

^{While volunteering in a basement sale room may not be high up on other moms' list, it's a big deal for me. I happen to love books. I also love meeting other adults and having meaningful conversations - without being interrupted ten times to wipe runny noses or settle sibling squabbles.}

^{When the phone rings, I grab it and hear Jana, my babysitter all out of breath. She's on the way to the emergency room with hubby, who has cut his arm with a chain saw. Can I find another babysitter? I don't tell her she was my last resort. Promising to pray for them, I hang up and head for the kitchen.}

^{"That was Mrs. Jana," I explain. "She can't keep you today, so you'll be going with me to the Booke Nooke today."}

^{"Oh, goodie!" Melissa grins around her cereal spoon. She loves books as much as her mom does. "Oh, doodie!" echoes eighteen-month-old Kevin from his high chair. My four-year-old cowboy Jason growls, "Let's get outta here, dudes!"}

^{Volunteers at the Ashland Public Library are supposed to arrive early, but the door is locked. When I tap on the window, a worker looks up and mouths at me,}

^{We don't open until 9:00, and I mouth right back, I'm the Booke Nooke volunteer.
Raising one eyebrow, she looks us over, turns on her heel and disappears into the head librarian’s office.}

^{"Why can't we go in?" Jason grumps. It's wet and cold on the sidewalk.}

^{Just then a silver-haired lady crosses the carpet, unlocks the door and states, "You're the volunteer? And these are ... your children."}

^{I'm tempted to say, "No, m'am. I found them playing in the street and thought I'd bring them by to pull all the books off your shelves." Instead, I explain my babysitting dilemma and the urgent need to get downstairs before sale seekers arrive.}

^{"We've gotta hurry," my daughter prods.}

^{The librarian sniffs and hands me the key to the Booke Nooke. Even with riding the elevator, I will be hard pressed to get downstairs, unlock the sale room, get three children settled, open the cash drawer, arrange the latest donations on shelves and - catch my breath.}

^{My daughter tries to help by stopping our first customer at the doorway. "We aren't ready yet. Can you wait in the hall?"}

^{He smiles sympathetically when I apologize. The man should be wearing a best-first-customer badge. His patience is priceless as he interacts with the children and offers to arrange the newly-donated books for me. Turns out he is also a volunteer and has a lot more experience in the Booke Nooke than I do.}

^{More people straggle in over the next hour while Mr. Kindheart - as I've dubbed him - greets them. He even introduces them to the children and brags on how well-behaved they are. I am one relieved Mama and pause to wink at my three cherubs.}

^{Moments later, however, I hear a familiar sound. One I'd rather hear at home or in some remote corner of planet Earth. It is my younger son, who has crawled up onto a handy bookshelf, hiked his rear in the air and is grunting like a woman in labor. And just in case the adults aren't privy to this behavior, his big brother booms out, "Bubby's having a VOWEL movement!"}

^{There are chuckles all around, and then various explanations for their grand exodus soon after. My daughter sums it up well when she waves one hand under her nose and giggles, "Shoo-weee!"}

^{I leave a note on the desk and close the door behind us, then herd my three kiddos onto the elevator. While I'm disposing of a loaded diaper and replacing it with a fresh one, the other two have permission to step across the hall and visit the children's storybook section. When they beg to stay awhile, I relent.}

^{Back downstairs, my sweet-smelling dumplin' son draws adoring glances from the next customers who show up. As they are leaving, I become anxious for the next volunteer to report. All things considered, we need to get back to familiar home turf.}

^{A bit later, Kevin and I go upstairs to collect his siblings and report the missing volunteer Booke Nooker to the librarian. Thankfully, she tells me to lock up if we want to leave. I don't know about the kids, but this part of the we has been ready to leave since the infamous "vowel" experiment.}

^{Back in the basement once more, I am counting up sales receipts when Jason approaches the desk and announces, "I gotta go." Don't let anybody tell you old folks are the only ones with frequent-bladder syndrome. This child can hang with the best of them! I ask if he can wait just five more minutes? He cannot. Melissa volunteers to escort her brother upstairs and down again.}

^{Just as I finish locking the cash drawer, an alarm goes off. Why is it moms immediately suspect their children are involved in catastrophes? Call it instinct if you like, but it propels me up the stairs with Kevin hanging on for dear life.}

^{My daughter is standing near the elevator. Beside her, the custodian desperately punches codes into the alarm box. Kevin slaps both hands over his ears and yells, "Stop dat noise!"}

^{When the elevator door slides open, I see my four-year-old cowboy hunkering down in a corner like a scared rabbit. I pull him to me and kiss away his tears.}

^{"He wanted to ride down by himself," Melissa tearfully offers. “I showed him the right button, but I guess he pressed the wrong one."}

^{Indeed. I'd like to discuss this further, but the glares I'm getting from concerned adults could melt asphalt off the road outside. We slink downstairs to lock up the Booke Nooke and vacate the premises. Retrieving the cash drawer, I lock the door behind us and tell the children we're taking the stairs back up ... not the elevator!}

^{The head librarian accepts the cash box and then hurries ahead to hold the door open for us. I don't think she's just being polite. I think we've stirred up enough ruckus to last her another lifetime.}

^{Walking to the car, I notice my two older children hovering like parentheses around their little brother. He toddles between them, linking the three of them together like a trio of best friends. And they truly are. While our day didn't unfold the way I'd planned it, we all survived and learned a few lessons along the way.}

^{First, you can prepare ahead of time, but you can't predict what life will dish out on any given day. Second, big sisters should never listen to little brothers who beg to ride elevators alone. And last but not least, we moms may wish for another set of arms, but we somehow manage without them. After all, multi-tasking is one of our many specialties - "vowel movements" included.}

See more of Nan's parenting articles.

Understanding the two year old ~

It's easy to underestimate two-year olds; their diminutive size will often disguise their abilities. Adventurers and explorers extraordinaire, they are also imitators and investigators who delight in active, imaginative play.

They are also wordsmiths in the making. Between the second and third birthdays, their working vocabulary includes 300-400 words. The number of words they actually understand, however, is closer to 1,000. Just what factors play into the developing mind of two-year-olds and what they understand?

While they may not be able to put all their thoughts into words, two-year-olds understand a great deal of what they see and hear in the world around them. For this reason, their facial expressions and attempts to verbalize what they feel are both important. It is during this stage they begin connecting two or three words to form a sentence such as "I go bye-bye."

There are other times, however, that pointing, jabbering, or squealing seem to be the easiest form of expressing oneself. If your two-year-old sees her favorite toy out of reach, she may pull you toward it, pointing and jabbering until you figure out what she wants.

Your little one also understands what you are saying about him (or others) when he hears you talking. For this reason, avoid discussing problems or frustrations (or birthday secrets!) in his presence. Your tone of voice, the names you mention and the topic of discussion are usually understood.

Imitation: mimicking others ~ Your two-year-old understands what goes on around her and will imitate others. When big brother is doing homework, she'll crawl up to the table and scribble, too. If you're at the kitchen sink, she may pull up a chair and try to assist you. After a trip to the grocery store, your daughter enjoys "shopping" in your kitchen pantry.

Young children also imitate the way we interact with others. Watch how your son leans forward to listen and looks you in the eye. He may copy-cat your own comforting methods by patting you on the back, and offering a band-aid for your boo-boos. He will also mimic your conversations by chattering to his stuffed animals.

At age two, children recognize people and places by connecting them with past experience. Drive by the golden arches, and they remember they like "appy" meals. Pass the mall and they'll visualize the carousel inside. When Grandpa drops by, they may dash off to find a book or toy connected with their last visit.

Little ones also recognize familiar things you've seen in their story books. They can point out the right object when you ask: "Where is the giraffe? Where is the monkey? Where is the elephant?" Reading books together encourages your son to pretend to "read" on his own later while looking back over the same book.

Your two-year-old understands certain actions and their meanings. Start gathering up your keys and briefcase and you'll hear "bye-bye!" before you're out the door. Plop down in your favorite chair after work, and you may be handed the TV remote. On cleaning days, pulling out the vacuum cleaner may provoke "I do it!" or "No noise!"

Two-year-olds gain understanding through experimentation. It's important to provide your child with wooden blocks, nesting cups, bouncy balls and stuffed animals. These items are considered "divergent" playthings, meaning they have more than one purpose. "Convergent" items, like puzzles, have only one purpose: find the right solution.

Playing with basic toys - like blocks and nesting cups - helps two-year-olds gain fundamental math concepts and problem-solving skills. Blocks teach lessons about weight, stability and balance. Tossing a ball not only requires visual tracking, it teaches spatial awareness: How far away it is when it lands? Logical thinking comes into play: How far must I throw it to reach Mommy?

Nesting cups help your child understand size relationship: Which cup fits inside the other one? Later, if those same cups end up in the bathtub or sandbox, your daughter learns about volume: How much sand or water will I need to fill the cup? Encourage your little one to experiment and give her a basis for understanding math and science concepts in grade school and beyond.

Two-year-olds understand the concept of time in broad terms. Past events, whether last week or last year, are all "yesterday." Anything scheduled next week or next month will happen "tomorrow." In another year or two, your son will understand that each day is divided into morning, afternoon and evening - and that days make up weeks, months and years.

Your child also understands the if-then concept. This is an important step toward learning what is acceptable and unacceptable: If you take a nap, then you'll feel better. If you pull the cat's tail, she'll scratch you. If you drink the rest of your milk, you can go play. If you dump your blocks again, you have to pick them up.

Another part of processing information occurs by trial and error. Two-year-olds will attempt to put square blocks in round holes many times without success. While it's tempting to correct them, let them work it out unless they become upset and frustrated. Only then should you demonstrate the proper way, then let them to try it on their own. They learn best by trial and error.

Never underestimate your two-year-old. What you see on the outside is growing quickly, yes. What you don't see - your child's mind - is developing at a much faster rate. Your child learns about life through communication, imitation, experimentation, recognition and cognition. As they explore and investigate, children learn. As they learn, they develop understanding. Be assured of one thing: when two-year-olds understand, they gain all they need to succeed in life!

(Adapted from one of 24 parenting articles I've written for Helium.com -- The photo above was taken on a visit to the Tennessee Aquarium and Butterfly Garden in Chattanooga, TN ).

Shopping with a Sigh ...

I sigh when I shop. Not because I'm tired or bored, but because my heart is broken. When I see children and parents at war in public, I can only imagine what it’s like in their private lives. Yanking back and forth on a tug-of-war rope for control, the parents put on quite a show. Sadly, nobody really wins in the shopping battle and the hostile war rages on.

Take, for instance, the woman who was berating her son so loudly I could hear her two aisles over. When they later passed by me, I noted the downcast eyes and chin of a boy who couldn't have been more than 9 or 10 years old. He wanted something, but what it was doesn't really matter here -- It's how she responded:

“You’re always asking for something. Can’t you, for once in your life, let me shop in peace? I don’t know why I brought you with me in the first place....” and on and on it went. She word-whipped her son in front of everyone.

And what about the dad who threw up his hands and surrendered to his daughter? “FINE. We'll buy the stupid doll. Just shut up for two minutes.” Score three big points for the three year old and none for Daddy-O.

Who won in both cases? Not the parents, and certainly not the children, though it may seem that way with the daughter and her doll. But she didn't really win. Those parents and children were either the wounded or the woundee (new word) and neither really won in the long run. The war rages on beneath the surface and the conflict was not truly settled – by giving a toy or withholding a trinket. The same battle scene will be revisited again and again.

The parent that allows a child to “push his buttons” will lose control and react. In this way, the child seems to win, but actually suffers from lack of security. Things take the place of healthy family intereaction. In proper training and discipline, there are some precedents that must be set. Dr. John Rosemond, author and family psychologist, shares the following:

Management as opposed to punishment

Pro-activity as opposed to reactivity

Authority as opposed to anger

Consistency as opposed to unpredictability

Communication as opposed to confusion

Please don’t get me wrong. There are parents today who never had a good parental role-model, and for that reason, parenting can be extremely difficult for them. They need to admit that and ask for help so they don’t carry on the poor-parenting cycle. Other parents simply load “too much on their plates” and fail to reserve time for their children. Thus, every trip to the store is another hurried project that must be checked off a list.

I sigh, but I also try … to make a difference. Sometimes that means a smile for the parent and an encouraging word. Other times, it means a sympathetic smile for a ten year old who is feeling diminished in size by a mother who humiliates him.

I’ve also been known to approach parents struggling with squirmy little boys. I’ll comment on what a cutie he is and then say, “Can I ask you a little favor? When you tuck him in tonight, would you give him an extra kiss for me? My son is over in Iraq, and I’m missing him.” Those mothers melt on the spot and promise to carry out my wishes. I notice as they walk away, that there is more patience in their posture. (Thankfully, my son came home safely, and I’ve kissed him several times!)

Let’s reach out to parents who are struggling. An encouraging word, a smile, or a brief reflection on our own experience … just might make a difference. If they are open to encouragement, we’ve done a good thing. If they aren’t … at least their children have seen a brief glimpse of what a parent can be.

Sweet surprise

I was out back yesterday, busily sweeping the dust-bunnies off the sun porch when our dog Buddy perked his ears. I didn't hear anything and kept sweeping. Moments later, Buddy trotted toward the front driveway, all ears.

He's not a barker, so I assumed things were fine ... but just to be sure, I walked around front and nearly ran into the florist. Her hands were occupied with a beautiful bouquet -- for me!

"Hi, I was hoping you were home... this is too pretty to miss." And it was (and is). The lilies are perfuming my dining table as I write.

The bouquet was from Jason, his wife, and little "Beanie." (That's what they're calling the little one until they know it's gender. But Beanie?!)

"Yeah, we realized the first time the doctor did an ultrasound, it was about the size of a bean. And we didn't want to call the baby "IT" all the time. So until we know, it's "Beanie." (I hear they are hoping to find out next week on their next doctor visit. Good thing, too ... I can't picture a sweet grandbaby named Beanie!)

Back to my bouquet. It had a card with a typical-Jason message that made me smile: "From your favorite son!" I love that boy. He's fun-loving, thoughtful and knows his Momma enjoys sweet surprises.

When I called to thank him, we got to talking about his childhood days and various incidents. I told him how much I enjoyed being his Mom 'way back then and how I still love being his Mom. Before hanging up, he signed off , "Love ya, Mom. Glad you liked the flowers."

I've been taken to lunch by our younger son, received a sweet call and lovely card from our daughter (with photos of grandson Ethan tucked inside!) -- and a beautiful bouquet and phone call from our older son. Last Wednesday, my darlin' hubby took me out to dinner and this morning handed me two cards -- a sentimental one and a funny one.

Mother's Day can't get any better than that!

Perfect timing ...

Last Sunday, our younger son Kev called to say, "Happy Mother's Day -- I love you, Mom." The calendar (and some perfectly-punctual finger waggers) would point out that my youngest was off by several days. But in my book, his timing was perfect.

You see, I'd been battling a bit of depression -- or, as someone used to say, "a case of the mully-grubs." (I've never been quite sure what kind of grubs eat mullies or if the saying has anything to do with worms ... )

The overcast skies probably played a big part in my feeling so down-in-the-dumps. Ten days of heavy rain, thunder storms, and frequent tornado warnings in our area. Ten days of flooding. Ten days straight with not a peep of sunshine. My son's phone call perked me up and spread a little much-needed sunshine in this Momma's heart.

On Tuesday I had to be in his area for an appointment, so we met for lunch. He greeted me with a shy grin and said, "I messed up, didn't I? Mother's Day is this coming weekend, and I thought it was last weekend." To which I replied, "You didn't mess up. I'm glad to be your Mom every day, and your phone call came just when I needed it."

All three of our children make it a point to call on holidays, birthdays and such. Melissa, as the big sister, would prompt her brothers by calling them first -- to remind them of their loyal-child-loves-parent duty. Then later, when she and I were chatting, she'd ask in an oh-by-the-way voice, "Have you heard from the guys yet?" And I usually had, thanks to her perfect timing.

This Mother's Day, I expect Jason to call me bright and early. (That's one bad habit he learned in the Marine Corps -- thinking if he's up early, everybody else probably should be, too.) So our phone will ring before daylight. I'll pry one eyelid open, struggle to reach the phone and then try not to sound like my head is full of sleep-fuzz.

"Hey, Mom! Did I wake you up!?!"

Perfect timing. This six-foot son of mine has this thing about being the first to greet me on birthdays and other special days. I *think* it might have something to do with what happened years ago -- on the morning of my 37th birthday...

I was combing my hair at the time, and Jason (10 years old at the time) was shifting from one foot to the other. Quietly, as if in deep thought. I could just feel the good vibes between us, knowing he was there to cheer me up since I was growing older by the moment. How sweet!

So I turned, hugged him and smiled, "Did you want to say something to me?"

He glanced up with that deer-in-the-headlights look and responded, "Uh, yeah ... I can't find the Fruit Loops."

Trust, me -- I've never let him live that one down! Since that time, he's made it a point to set sibling records for being the first to call on special occasions. I think he feels guilty for forgetting my 37th birthday.

This coming Sunday, the phone will probably ring before daylight, interrupting some good shut-eye. When I pick up the receiver, he'll be chuckling, "Heh-heh ... so am I the first one to call?" That's when I'll grin around my yawn and take great pleasure in saying, "Nope ... your little brother beat you by a long mile."

Which may not be such a good idea. He'll start plotting way early for November, when my 55th birthday comes around. Somehow, someway, he'll beat his brother and sister and give me the first greeting ... even if he has to set the alarm for midnight-thirty. (Did I mention he's the competitive one in the family?)

As for those phone calls, I'll take them anytime -- one week early or at the crack of dawn, it doesn't matter at all. Even if I know they've been prompted to call by their big sis, I love those husky voices at the other end of the line.

When a grown son calls home to say "I love ya, Mom ..." my heart gives a big ka-thump. Fair weather or foul, when our kids call home-- it's always perfect timing.

A rosebush and a dream

I thought of our daughter when I plucked the lovely rose pictured here. We bought the "Double Delight" rosebush for her 21st birthday as a way of encouraging her heart...

When Melissa was in her first year of college, many of her friends were either dating or already engaged. It was hard, she confided, to see them walking hand-in-hand across campus, because she had determined (ahead of time) to focus on her piano studies and "wait on the Lord." She wanted to be content to wait for the right time and the right man -- if that was God's plan for her life.

We knew our daughter had a tender, loving heart and struggled with loneliness at times, so my dear hubby made it a point to send her roses for Valentines' day, recitals and other special occasions to "fill the gap." Don't get me wrong ... there were plenty of boys on campus that vied for our daughter's attention. But she didn't just want to "date" a bunch of guys and go through the date-and-break up process. She wanted to save her heart for the one man she would spend her life with. So her date, for special occasions, was always her daddy, a favorite uncle or one of her handsome brothers!

Sometimes, when Melissa was home for a visit, she would sit in the porch swing with her head on Phillip's shoulder and sigh. They would talk awhile -- about boys, relationships, waiting on the Lord, and all those things that daddies and daughters talk about. She would sometimes cry a few tears, but in the end, she'd get up from her seat with a mega-watt smile, hug him and say, "I'm so glad I have you to talk with, Daddy."

On Melissa's 21st birthday, she was finishing her sophomore year in college. It had been a grueling year of studies and piano practice, but she hung in there and finished well. Summer was spent on campus taking yet more classes and some intense piano sessions. At age 21, she had never dated and kept trusting that God could bring the right man her way at the right time.

The rose was our a way of reminding Melissa how lovely she was in our eyes. Her Dad promised he would continue to hold her heart and hand as she walked toward the future with a heart full of hope and trust. We believed she would one day have a home and family of her own, and the rosebush would go with her. So while her friends were marrying, Melissa was still pounding the ivories day in and day out, studying hard and waiting...

Four years of college and two years of grad school later, Melissa's "perfect match" walked onto campus at Southern Seminary and into the music office. After introducing himself, Luke mentioned where he lived -- and it was in the same state we lived. A few moments later, he said his grandmother lived in such-and-such a town -- only 20 minutes away from us.

Who else but the Lord can coordinate things so perfectly? They had so much more in common as their friendship progressed, and after six months, he asked her Daddy for permission to marry her. The've been married nearly three years now -- and when she comes home to visit, another man is in the swing with our daughter -- her husband!

In August, Melissa, Luke and baby Ethan will be moving to a new home. I suppose the rose bush will follow. But that's okay ... all these years, it's been a wonderful reminder that God answers prayer in His own time. It's been such a lovely rose -- for such a lovely daughter.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

This is the month for honoring mothers, and I'm honoring mine. The photo at left shows us at the Victorian Tea Room on Mom's 84th birthday last September.

I'm the fifth of Mom's five daughters, so that makes me the baby girl. The others love to rib me about that, but I don't mind. It's fun being the "youngest daughter!"

My mom's an amazing woman. She was a faithful wife to my Dad, raised six children, (I have one brother), cooked for 8 people every day and kept a nice home. Even in the leane$t of time$, Mom made sure our home was full of warmth and joy.

Mom's also a trooper. After investing all those years in her daughters, she saw them marry and move away. Two moved *very* far away -- one to South Korea, one to Brazil with their missionary husbands. Their visits home were infrequent, so Mom had to say goodbye to her daughters for 3 and 4 years at a time. There were times when mail service was erratic, at best, and it must have been difficult for her to "not know" how they were doing. Mom has never met five of her great-grandchildren who live in Brazil. That must be tough, but she's a trooper.

My Mom is also a hard worker. She gets outdoors most days for a walk or some work in her little garden. She also scrubs, mops, cleans and cooks in her homey little apartment. I've known her to share, on many occasions, what she cooked with others who were sick or less fortunate. On her "free" time, my mother enjoys doing word puzzles and jigsaw puzzles. She also sews for herself and others, and she is good at crocheting and jewelry-making.

Mom stays in-the-know. As a patriot who is concerned for her country, she writes letters and makes phone calls. She helps assemble Christmas baskets for the needy. She also watches the news and knows the weather at just about any given moment of the day. Mom isn't afraid of computers or new-fangled technology, as my Dad would have called it. Now that the internet has connected her to Brazil, she and my sister chat often, and she is able to receive photos of those sweet great-grands via the internet.

My Mom has many friends. In her apartment complex, she knows all of other 46 residents and is a friend to many. She is a friend to anyone of any age but especially enjoys young folks and little children. When Dad was still alive, they often entertained young Bible college students in their home. Some of our young people at church have "adopted" her and claim her as a grandmother. The little ones know she carries gum and stickers!

It was in 2003 that Mom moved to our area. Since I'm the only one of six children living near her, I'm Mom's official appointment-maker and chauffeur for doctor's appointments. We see one another every Sunday at church, and she is often here for Sunday lunch. I'm glad I still have my Mom. If I can be half the woman and mother she's been to me, I'll consider my life well lived.