Ten years ago tonight, I went on a date. 

It was the first date I’d been on in…I don’t know, ages…and it was a double-date to celebrate my date’s birthday. We went out to dinner (The Old Mohawk in German Village) and wandered around Barnes & Noble for awhile. It was a nice, low-key evening. I liked my date; we were friends. But after we lost both guys at the bookstore, I told my friend Lisa that, even though we’d had a good night, I wasn’t really interested in him “like that.” 

Of course, I married him 17 months later.

And I’m so glad I did.

It’s kind of funny how 10 years doesn’t feel like such a long time ago. I was so busy that fall, preparing for the monstrosity of a Christmas program our church was putting on. But Eric showed up to help build set, and I realized he could work with his hands, build things. He was smart, witty, very funny. He played in the orchestra at church, too, so he was at all the Christmas rehearsals with me. But between end-of-term grading and the program preparations, I was just too busy and distracted to be interested. 

We finished the program, and I crashed. I headed to my parents’ house for Christmas about as soon as I could (I also got sick from being so worn down). But on the Sunday after Christmas, Karen and I were back in Columbus, so we invited Eric and another guy (both of whom had been alone in their houses for the weekend) over to hang out, eat food, and watch a movie. That night, Eric mentioned wanting to see the second Lord of the Rings movie that had recently come out. I’d seen it already with Karen, but I decided to open a door for him (Karen and my mom had been encouraging me all month to flirt with him a little more). I said I’d like to see it again myself, and left it at that. A couple of nights later, he called and asked me out.

And we’ve been married for 8 1/2 years.  

I think the thing that surprised me most about Eric was that I wasn’t really looking for him when he showed up. I mean, I wasn’t looking for HIM. I had sort of an idea what kind of guy I wanted, but it wasn’t Eric. At least I didn’t think so at first. But God knew better, and it didn’t take very long to realize that I’d never met anyone more perfect for me than Eric Hogue. He was all the things I thought I wanted in a guy, plus a bunch of stuff I didn’t know I needed. His inherent self-confidence was refreshing to my inherent insecurity. He just knows he can do what he sets his mind to, while I doubt myself the whole way. He is even-keeled and patient even when I’m at my craziest. Karen said she knew I’d marry him because he brought out the girl in me. I guess she was right. I didn’t have to prove anything with Eric; I told him the worst of my junk and it didn’t even faze him. I could relax. I could breathe. 

I still can.

There is no one in the world I’d rather hang out with than my husband. He is a fantastic man and father. He is a hard-worker. He sometimes drives me crazy with his confidence and calm, but his counsel is always wise (if I’m willing to listen anyway). He bakes. He cleans better than I do. He still makes me laugh almost every day. He loves his kids. He loves God. And he’s a fantastic kisser!

For one whole decade of my life, I have belonged with Eric. I am so grateful that God gave me such a precious gift. And I’m looking forward to many decades more!

– Instead of “I think,” Alex has started just saying “pink.” So he starts every third sentence with “Pink I want to watch…um…Mickey.” “Pink I want yogurt.” “Pink I need more snack.” It’s pretty cute.

– Erin’s new phrase is “I am want” as in “I am want to watch Phineas and Ferb.” 

– Yesterday, Alex woke up from nap at 2:20 and wanted me to let him up. I told him he needed to rest a little more.

     Alex: “Well, puppy wouldn’t let me sleep. He wake me up.”

     Me: “I see, well, puppy, you need to let Alex sleep more.”

     Alex: “He doesn’t understand you.”

– 

– (not a kid one) Yesterday, Eric and I had this conversation about an actor from a show we’re watching on Netflix.

     Eric: “So that guy that plays the commander? I looked him up. And the reason he looks so familiar is because he played basically the same character on…oh that other movie…the big blue cat movie.”

     Me: “Big blue cat movie?”

     Eric: “Yeah…(pause)…oh Avatar!” 

– Megan wants to get things from my desk, which she is obviously not allowed to do. But if she thinks I’m not paying attention, she’ll try it anyway, usually to get my iPod when it’s plugged in. So when I catch her or call for her while she’s doing it, she’s started calling back, “I”m just checking something.”

– The twins, especially Erin, have gotten into a bad habit of starting every…well, everything, with a list of what they don’t like, don’t want, aren’t happy about. I don’t like this plate. I don’t want this shirt. Not this fork. Not this TV show. I don’t like noodles (or whatever else I’ve served for the meal). So especially at dinner (where it happens almost every night), I’ve started making them say one thing they do like for everything they “don’t.” Erin lists off her dislikes so quickly that, between the time I call them and we sit down to pray, Erin usually owes me 2-3 “likes.” 

– I’m also instituting a “one thing I’m thankful for” policy for the month of November. At dinner, I want us to think of things we’re thankful for. Last night’s list included Mommy, Daddy and puppy. You know, the important stuff. 

– Alex has been very affectionate recently. Not that he’s usually stand-offish, but he’ll suddenly give you a kiss for no reason or stop to snuggle. Love that. 

– Eric bought us a Dyson vacuum last week. It came on Monday. He’s vacuumed at least twice this week (maybe three times). A new toy for him and chores getting done for me = win/win! Now if I could just figure out how to get him to clean the bathrooms… 

– Megan’s got another cold. This may be a bad winter for that. This is her third cold/cough since the weather turned cold. I may actually get her a flu shot at her 2 year checkup after Thanksgiving. I rarely get one for them since we mostly hang out with each other, but this year, with a new baby coming, I may just go a different route.

– Speaking of flu shots…I got one a couple of weeks ago. I hate getting them because, for two days afterwards, they feel like someone much bigger than me punched me in the arm. But a nurse friend recommended (even got for me) holding an ice pack on the site the day you get the shot. It worked wonders. Seriously…if you have that punched-in-the-arm feeling after a shot – do the ice thing. Just 20 minutes, the evening I got the shot (sooner would’ve been better, probably) made a world of difference.

– Megan’s potty training has been hit or miss recently. Mostly miss. She’s not quite as bad as Alex, but she hit a major regression for about a week. I was seriously considering throwing in the towel on it, but this week we’re doing better again. I really hate PT (not than anyone loves it, I’m sure), but I’m determined not to learn from the mistakes I made with Alex (my issues, not his!). And on that topic, Alex turned a major corner about a month or so ago. All of a sudden, he got it. He’s not perfect, but it’s a hundred times better than it was. So yay for him!

– We did not take the kids out on Wednesday night for Trick-or-Treat. It was just too cold, too windy, too yuck. Their costumes were not warm this year, I didn’t want to, and Eric wasn’t inclined either. So we opened the door, put the candy on the front step so I could see and greet people as they came, but we stayed inside, ate treats, watched a movie, and hung out. (And lest you worry, we did trick-or-treat at our church event on Monday, so they did get to dress up and get candy…just not on Beggar’s night.) 

– I am 31 weeks pregnant this week. Definitely on the downhill slide, definitely thankful not to have to be so concerned about what I eat, definitely feeling heavy and big. All of a sudden, the belly is really getting in the way. So I won’t be sorry to see 9 more weeks skip by…though I need it not to go too fast – we still don’t have a name picked out. Gotta work on that, huh?

– I really like the Cozi family organizer app. The calendar is fantastic, and it emails you on Sunday an overview of the week’s schedule. You should try it.

– I cannot wait for this election to be over. I have stuff to say, I’m totally happy to vote, but I’m ready to have it behind us. 

– That being said, I really enjoy taking my kids with me to vote. I love having them watch me participate civically that way. Sure, they’re mostly about the stickers they get, and I’m hesitating slightly because the lines will probably be longer than usual this year. But I think it’s really important for them to watch us do these kinds of things. 

– Megan just joined me in the loft because Alex told her to come upstairs. She barely obeys me that well. Wonder what his secret is…

Happy Friday!

I am convinced that developing an attitude of humble certainty about the issues we debate is really important, particularly for Christians.

The general consensus is that those who claim to be followers of Jesus are, at the same time, the most divisive, unkind, judgmental and close-minded of arguers. And I can’t honestly say that view is wrong.

At least…not as far as I am concerned. All the “we” and “you” in the previous two posts should have been “me” and “I” (feel free to read it that way). And that’s why these three Soapbox #2 blogs were very hard for me to write. I think the idea is valid and often overlooked.

But I’m really bad at doing it myself.

In the last few months especially, I have come face-to-face with my judgmental attitude, my unkind heart, my overall lack of anything that could even remotely be called grace or humility. Frankly, it’s not a pretty picture. Almost every time I open my mouth, I’m hit again with the reality of my own ineptitude in this area. And I open my mouth a lot. I like to hear myself talk. I do not like to be wrong. Or even think I’m wrong. Because, of course, I’m always right. Just ask my husband.

But I am (very slowly) getting the heart of this Soapbox. I know it’s a good idea, but it’s only been recently that I’ve really had the desire to see it be consistently true in my own life. Partly because I have been surprised to discover, over time, that people usually are willing to listen to ideas that they may not agree with…depending on the attitude with which those ideas are presented. But more importantly, because it is the attitude that Jesus portrayed over and over in his years of ministry.

To most people that Jesus interacted with, his attitude was grace incarnate. He dignified people when he interacted with them, looked them in the eye, touched the most untouchable. And even when he did confront, debate, or take someone to task over some idea or question posed to him, he never threw them under the bus. He responded to their worst accusations with truth and better thinking. Of course, He is God. And He is love. But still, the manner that Jesus used when he interacted with people ought to characterize the manner that his followers present, even two thousand years later.

And so often it doesn’t. So often, those claiming to be Christians are the worst offenders for demeaning their opponents, for arrogant certainty, for refusing the acknowledge any possibility that their view might be even slightly flawed. Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s more accurate to say simply that I am nothing like Jesus when I decide to challenge an idea, debate an issue or even teach a lesson.

And I so desperately what to represent my Jesus well in this area.

So I’m learning. And making lots of mistakes. And for the first time in my life, starting to care about what taste I leave in people’s mouths when I’m done talking. It’s not easy, this attitude of humble certainty. But I know how ineffective my responses have been up to this point, and I am convinced that letting Jesus break through my heart so he can use my mouth more effectively for his kingdom will be worth the effort.

 Much as we hate to admit it, we all tend to come to a conclusion and hold on to it for dear life, like a life preserver. In our human arrogance, we hold our ideas tightly, sometimes because we’re convinced they’re right, but also, at times, because we’re afraid to find out if they’re wrong. We defend “our side” vehemently, attack the other side passionately, and generally find ourselves incapable of giving other ideas a fair hearing.

But that isn’t the way to debate well. And frankly, it’s not very Christ-like either.

So instead, we have to start seriously working towards an attitude of humble certainty. Yes, we should know what we think. By all means, be able to defend yourself, but always, always, always do the actual defense with an attitude that doesn’t hold “being right” as more important than the heart and soul of the other human beings who just happen to see things differently than you do.

And what might this look like? You know, in real life? 

Take politics. An attitude of humble certainty would allow politicians and their supporters to admit that an opponent might actually have a good point on occasion. It would mean that, no matter where we stand on an issue (the economy, abortion, foreign policy), we could actually hear someone’s view from the other side without immediately passing judgement.

And in the Mommy Wars. Can you imagine an attitude that would allow us to accept another family’s way of doing things without immediately feeling judged? Imagine being able to know what you are going to do with your family and why, and then having the freedom to listen to another view without taking offense because it’s different than your way. That would be humble certainty.

Then there’s religion. What if you could be open to hearing another person’s view on religion – even your religion – without jumping down his throat or feeling threatened? An attitude of humble certainty allows us to stand firm in your convictions without shutting down when someone explains their experiences, their beliefs, their doctrines. It might even let you be curious about other beliefs systems without resulting in serious doubt and fear that your side will somehow be found wanting.

Really, an attitude of humble certainty is a very freeing way of interacting with the world of ideas and with other people. You are sure enough of your view to join the discussion, but can participate with an openness that allows for true discussion to actually take place.

And what will this require?

First, developing humble certainty means constantly monitoring your own ideas. We fall so easily into the trap of self-deception. We think we’re digging deeply, really hashing through the issues at hand, when in reality, we’re not. Instead, what we call “conviction” really just means “untested.”

Yes, you can read a lot. Google a lot. But that is not enough to prove your ideas. To be humbly certain, we must, must, must do the hard work of testing our ideas, checking our facts and sources, and breaking down our own theories so we can evaluate each part before rebuilding the whole. We have to guard against letting our assumptions color our perceptions of people and evidence. We need to humbly acknowledge that, more often than not, we start with a conclusion and find things to back our view up, instead of really searching for Truth and building our arguments and conclusions and lives around that.

So developing humble certainty must always begin with a long, hard look at yourself. But, secondly, humble certainty requires adjusting our attitude toward “the other side.”

It means knowing your opponents’ side as well as you know your own. Maybe even better. Humble certainty means showing respect to the other side – giving them credit that they might have put real thought into their views. You respect them enough to wrestle through their claims, laying them down beside your ideas and comparing them to see not just where they are different, but where they might be the same. Or where they might have a good idea. Or where they might have a point you’ve never considered. It means giving your opponent a truly fair hearing.

In other words, being humbly certain means you start with your opponent’s arguments – listen to what he is really saying, give him credit for what he’s got right, and then offer contrary evidence, opposing ideas, or alternatives where his answers are (in your opinion) skewed.

But even more than knowing an opponent’s main points and evidence, it means knowing why she holds those views. It means separating the person arguing from the argument itself so that we can look past the ideas we adamantly disagree with to see and hear a real person whose life and pain and history is wadded up in those ideas. It means admitting that not everyone in the NRA is a redneck hunter with a gun rack on his gigantic truck. And that most people who defend abortion are not immoral, heartless liberals who have no regard for human life. They are not stereotypes. They are human beings. And as such, they deserve to be treated with respect.

This reality came to me, years ago, when a friend and I were discussing abortion. A black man, he explained to me that, for many in the white, middle class community, abortion is seen as a problem in itself. Therefore the solution is to get rid of the problem, generally by making it illegal. But in the black community, many see abortion as a symptom of a greater problem: poverty. SO the solution is not to outlaw abortion, but to end poverty…which would then eliminate the need for the abortions in the first place.

I had never even considered such a possible explanation for why someone who believed in the Bible as seriously as I do would come to a completely different conclusion about, what seemed to me, an obvious moral matter. His explanation didn’t change my view, but it did open my eyes to the personhood of those who, until that moment, had just been “the other side.”

But what all of it really boils down to is…grace. An attitude of humble certainty always extends grace to the other side. It is not as concerned with winning the argument as with arguing well. Someone who is humbly certain knows that the debate itself is unlikely to change an opponent’s mind. Instead she focuses entirely on arguing so well and in such a way that those who hear her remain open to hearing what she has to say.

Humble certainty never rubs a victory in the opponent’s face. Win or lose, the goal is grace. A grace that allows others to think differently without making them automatically “wrong.” A grace that revels in open dialogue, without demanding that everyone agree in the end.

It is the realization is that we do not have to make sure that everyone agrees with us all the time. It’s the moment when we realize it’s okay for others to see things differently, that God is still God even if his followers think differently about abortion or animal rights or poverty or whatever. It creates breathing room for those arguing, and a freedom to disagree without breaking company.

Practically speaking, being humbly certain is not an easy place to live. It accepts the opposing view as valuable (though not necessarily valid), and it places greater emphasis on the person speaking than on the end result of the debate. But in that tension between finding truth, doing what is right, and honoring people as God does, we will find a place of freedom that is worth all the hard work it takes to get there.

For a while, I wasn’t sure I’d ever make it back to this blog “series,” (see here for Soapbox #1 Part 1, Part 2, Part 3) but today, I am back on a soapbox! Woohoo! So what got me going again? Presidential debates. 

In the name of full disclosure, I did not watch the debates. But that’s really okay, in this instance. I’m not going to talk about the arguments made or “facts” stated. I don’t need to quote from the transcripts to make my point here…because Soapbox #2 is all about attitude.

Think about the three debates. Yes, there were fact checkers. Yes, there were comments that made headlines. But when we think about each of the debates, what most of us remember is how the candidates presented themselves – who seemed more “presidential” or who behaved “poorly.”

And that is the point of Soapbox #2. 

While most of us (thankfully) will never have to participate in a televised debate, at some point, we will all have to respond to “the other side.” The topic might be politics, the Mommy Wars, money, religion, or who performed better on Dancing with the Stars this week. But someday, every last one of us will find ourselves at odds with someone else.

And what the presidential debates illustrate so perfectly is that, when the moment of discussion comes, people will walk away remembering our attitudes much more clearly than they will remember our arguments.

Because of this reality, we must, we must, think about the way that we present ourselves and our ideas, not only the ideas we present. In other words, the HOW is just as crucial as the WHAT when you are making your case. And if you really want to have an impact in your world, if you really want to influence how people think, if you really want to have people mark you as someone worth listening to, you have to learn to control your attitude.

I call it being Humbly Certain.

The Trouble with Certainty

We are, generally speaking, very good with the certainty part.

In a nutshell, being certain means knowing what you think. It means doing the work to think an issue through and know where you stand on it. And you cannot hope to have any influence on the thoughts of others until this part is done.

However, certainty does not mean stagnant. For many people certainty is an end in itself, a finish line. We know where we stand so there’s no need for more thought and discussion. But certainty is not a once-for-all conclusion. It’s merely about getting to a conclusion that you can explain and support where you are in your thinking right now.

That “right now” is important because our views can and will and should change. Are you the same person now as you were in high school, in college, at age 30? Do you see the world the same way today? Hopefully (and most likely) NO! The longer we live, the more our views change. And even if our conclusions stay the same, we develop deeper, (hopefully) more mature reasons for why we believe as we do. Our understanding grows as we learn more, live more, experience success and failure. Our experiences either challenge our ideas until we modify them or they reinforce them, making us more certain of our original views.

And the fact that our views sometimes change doesn’t mean we’re not certain. It simply means that we are as certain as we can be, right now. It means that, to the best of our knowledge, on this day, we are convinced of our opinion. We are certain.

But certainty also has a downside – we can be so “certain” that we become arrogant. We are incredibly good at drawing conclusions (or jumping to them, as the case may be). We are sure of where we stand, convinced that our way is right and attacking vehemently “those people” who see things differently. We claim certainty, and having claimed it, we beat people over the head with it. It isn’t pretty. And it isn’t kind.

That is why the best debaters and, I would argue, every Christian, must learn to temper their certainty with humility.

Humbly Certain

Being humbly certain means taking the position that “I am sufficiently convinced of my ideas to discuss them…but I also acknowledge that I could be wrong.” It means being sure enough of where you stand that you can confidently debate about it. But at the same time, you allow for the possibility that you might not have all the answers, all the facts. You might not have the full corner on truth.

So you argue your side to the best of your ability, but also with an attitude of openness instead of arrogance. You concede the outside chance that someone in the room might know more than you do. That the opposing side might have information you were unaware of. It leaves open the possibility that you are not the only and highest authority on any particular topic, that you are not, in the moment of debate, a surrogate God.

Being humbly certain means realizing that there are black and white issues, there are hills worth dying on, but that the vast majority of ideas we discuss are not those things. It means keeping in mind that God’s infinite knowledge and wisdom means He can see where the black stops and the white starts, while our finite minds will only perceive the gray. In other words, it means keeping in mind, always, that we can be wrong, that our ideas may not be fully true, that we might, in fact, need to adjust our way of thinking to be more in line with Truth.

And in regard to “those people” who would dare think differently…being humbly certain means treating any opponent as a thinking and rational person (even if she sometimes isn’t), so that you do not turn people off from hearing your argument because they can’t get past your attitude. 

And this is where the vast majority of people, myself included (myself especially!), struggle with this concept.

We want to be right, at all costs. We don’t want to face the true complexity of the world in which we live or the problems that we face or the solutions that we need. We want to oversimplify the situation, then pick a side and start hurling “facts” at the other side like so many snowballs.

Our arrogance wants to destroy any who would disagree with us. So we must work hard to do exactly the opposite. Instead of arrogance, we must strive and practice and seek after an attitude of humble certainty.  

And what does that look like? I hope to dive into that shortly, so stay tuned!

You know how Oriental Trading Co. has those “assorted” collections of toys and cheap prizes. They’re like 350 pieces for $15 or less, but you will have no idea what’s coming until it arrives. I guess that’s what this post is going to be like…except for free! Lucky you, right? Anyway…

– Megan was given a copy of the Velveteen Rabbit for her birthday. It was a classic edition that came with a large stuffed rabbit, designed to look just like the one in the book. Really cute…except it really looks more like a kangaroo than a rabbit. And my kids still call it Meg’s new kangaroo about half the time. It makes me laugh every time.

– I took my kids to a playground yesterday (Prairie Oaks metro park has a great play/picnic area…seriously, take your kids). Alex & Erin climbed all the way to the top of the rope jungle gym for the first time ever. Meg didn’t get very high on it, but she did like the slides and climbing the other jungle gym a lot. We may go back today with Daddy and walk around and take some pictures. 

– I did like 5 loads of laundry in two days and folded them. They are still in baskets, not put away, but maybe I can actually get that done before I have to do another load this time!

– Eric and I watched The Adjustment Bureau last night. I liked it. It was a little slow, but the characters were good. Wouldn’t call it a biblical take on free will/predestination or anything, but an interesting watch. 

– My neighbors LOVE halloween. I like that everyone comes outside and talks to each other on Beggar’s Night. But they think it’s fun to decorate their yards with tombstones, creepy heads, and other stuff. I can ignore them, but they freak.my.kids.out. Alex talked all year long about last year’s decorations. And this week, Megan was riding down the sidewalk after Erin a couple of days ago and suddenly melted into a puddle, howling until she reached me. It took me a minute to decipher that the word she was repeating was “SCARY!” She pointed to what had stopped her (she wouldn’t go near it): a tombstone with a vampire, dripping blood, crawling over the top of it. Lovely. I like the camaraderie Halloween inspires on our cul-de-sac. But it’s very frustrating that my kids can’t walk down the sidewalk for half of October. *sigh*

– I also have no idea what Halloween costumes we’re going to have this year. Really gotta work on that, huh?

(Caution: Start of Rant – feel free to skip)

– The other day, my friend was not permitted to buy a bunch of pop at a nearby grocery store because the manager has instituted a limit on pop specials. They felt that people were buying the pop when it was on sale, emptying the shelves for other people also looking for the deal, and then re-selling the pop for a profit. And since that wasn’t fair, they decided to limit what people could buy. It was not a chain-wide policy…just this one store. So my friend refused to buy anything, even though they were going to make an exception for her “just this once.” Good for her.

And the thing is…the whole thing kind of irritated me. Not because I buy a lot of pop and was hoping to re-sell what I didn’t use (which, by the way, is not illegal – just inconsiderate to other shoppers who find the shelves empty). But because it’s indicative of a greater problem with the way our society has started to function. See, the manager has no need or responsibility to determine what people do with the products they buy in his store after they leave it. I suppose there’s some wisdom (though it’s a bit annoying and probably doesn’t really solve the problem) in moving behind the counter pharmaceutical products that could be used for, say, meth production. But we’re talking about pop and canned goods and whatever else the manager decided to limit. Normal stuff with no useful life except for normal people consuming them. A good manager might see it as an opportunity to make more money and work with his people to order extra of those products to ensure that more people can buy them off his shelves…and thus make himself even more money. But no…he made a “rule.” 

Why? Why would he care? Why would he feel obligated to control what his customers do? 

Because we are a victim society. See, everything that happens now has to have a cause. SOMEONE has to be responsible for whatever bad stuff happens. And the manager doesn’t want it to be him. He creates a limit on pop purchases so that he doesn’t have to face the ire of a coupon clipper who didn’t get her bargain. And in the greater world, people or groups who should have no obligation or concern with people’s actions suddenly have to create limits and rules and checks on behavior so that someone else doesn’t get injured or offended or inconvenienced. To protect themselves. And apparently, to protect me…’cause I can’t be trusted to control my own behavior. 

It irritates me. The extra rules and policies designed to police everyone because a few people don’t have common sense and common courtesy. And even more irritating is how many people seem to think that more and more of those rules need to come from government at some level. NO! Bad behavior can’t be pre-empted with rules. And good citizenship can’t be forced or coerced by random or silly rules. It’s something that only comes when it’s expected, when it’s taught and learned through consequences. But that of course opens up soapboxes about parenting and sin nature, which I am not going to get into right now (you’re welcome). 

Still…my friend couldn’t buy pop because somebody was getting a bargain and using it to make a little extra cash (legally). And the whole thing just irritated me.

(End Rant)

– And finally, I am now 28 weeks pregnant. We are starting two-week appointments, and most of the time, I feel pretty good. The big concern at this point was the glucose test. I had gestational diabetes with the twins, but we figured it was just because of the second baby (two placentas overworking my pancreas). So with Megan we weren’t too concerned. Except I failed the test again. And the three-hour test, too. And I was crushed. 

For those of you who have never heard my GD rant, I won’t go into the details here. But it was annoying to do the finger-pricks, and frankly, I couldn’t see how I was eating all that much differently than normal. But it was, apparently, a big deal. You know, increased risk of large babies and blood pressure problems. Except my twins were 6 lbs. at 38 weeks, and Meg was 7.4 full-term. NOT large babies. And I never have blood pressure issues. Mine is usually almost low. So it seemed silly that everyone acted like I was bordering on needing insulin, when in fact I was bordering on normal. 

So, with this pregnancy, we all thought it was guaranteed. At my first appointment, I told my doctor that I was not going to do the 3-hour test ever again. She was fine with that. A few weeks later, she mentioned probably having me take the 1-hour test early (at 24 weeks) because I was almost sure to have it and they’d want me to watch my blood sugar for longer. Yippee. So at about 22 weeks, I decided to shift my eating without the test. I really only have to spread my carbs across the day (2 at meals, 1 at snacks), and when I do that, I can barely make my sugar spike above the limit. I added a bit more protein and veggies where I could, but I cut out almost nothing. 

And then my 24-week appointment passed without the test. Yippee, I thought. But they handed me the sugar drink for my 28 week. So, for the last month, I kept eating like I’d been and praying. Dear Jesus, please let me not have it this time. I know it’s not likely, but really, I don’t have the energy for the finger-pricks (which have to be done exactly 2 hours after meals) with 3 kids running around. I know it’s not likely, but really, could you give me a break on this one? Please? 

Now, before you think I’m some giant of faith…I’ll be real honest, I didn’t think He’d do it. I prayed that way when I was pregnant with Meg, too, but still had it. So I tried not to get my hopes up. And kept eating like I was. And tried not to worry about what I couldn’t change. And eventually, week 28 rolled around.

A friend graciously agreed to watch my 3 munchkins during my appointment. I figured they didn’t need to watch Mommy get her blood drawn. I drank the juice. I actually had trouble getting it all down (it never bothered me much before). And off I went. Bathroom sample – check. Blood draw – check. Flu shot – check. Then I waited for my doctor. She came in, we chatted, checked the heartbeat, measured, all that jazz. And she said, “You know, there wasn’t much glucose in your urine sample, so maybe this guy isn’t going to be diabetic.” Um…so much for not getting my hopes up. 

Anyway, I tried not to stress about getting a phone call all day yesterday. But I was waiting for it. Still…lunch came and nothing. For Meg, the nurse had called just after lunch, though, so I kept waiting. By 3:00, nothing. I decided to take the kids to the playground, and if she called, she called. We played, we had fun. We got home, and I checked my email for a voicemail. There it was. They had called. I checked the message, but all it said was that my results were ready and I could view them on the patient website. 

UM…what?

I clicked the link, logged in and opened the message: “Your blood work came back within normal levels. We will see you at your next appointment.”

Oh my word. I cannot even tell you how often I read that message. I cannot tell you how relieved I was. I cannot tell you how much I thanked Jesus for changing things despite my disbelief. I called my mom and sister; they were, of course, both thrilled that I am normal (there’s always been some question, you know ). And then I almost didn’t know what to do next. Not diabetic? I don’t even know how to do the last 3 months of pregnancy without that hanging over me. 

So, today, I’m still a bit in shock. I’m going to keep eating the spread-out meals/snacks that I’ve been doing. I probably won’t go wild with sweets (which I rarely do anyway)…though a milkshake sounds really good for a treat. But that kind of eating is normal for me, it isn’t hard and it ensures we get lots of the good stuff I need anyway. But it also means I can just enjoy candy corn, and Thanksgiving, and Christmas. It also means that I have one giant HALLELUJAH, PRAISE JESUS to tell people about. It also means that for the first time ever, I can just relax and maybe enjoy the last 12 weeks of my last pregnancy.

Thank you, Jesus.  

That’s how long it feels since I’ve written. Gotta work on that. I have tons to write down and just can’t seem to get the 15 minutes (or more, with interruptions) it takes to get it done. Alas.

Still, for what it’s worth, here are some of the events of life (in no particular order).

1. Megan turned 2

So Meg is now officially “big” – or at least she thinks so. She loved the birthday hoopla, helping make cakes and decorations. She was in absolute heaven when everyone sang to her. It was really a fun weekend, even though she did have a cold. 

2. Laundry

The return of cool weather has brought the return of Mount Laundry. Part of that is the weird mix of sizes and warm/cool clothes that it takes to keep my kids correctly dressed these days. Because apparently, shorts are not a good indicator of how much taller my kids had gotten over the summer so our pants from the spring are tending to be about an inch (or more) too short. It’s quite funny sometimes. But also, three kids+potty training+misc. accidents = a lot of laundry. I thought I had one load of kids laundry yesterday…turned into 3 full loads. Sheesh! I can’t even get to Eric and my clothes; it takes a load a day just to keep the kids clothes clean. Unfortunately, Eric ran out of important things this morning, so I must, must get some of our clothes washed today!

3. The New Barn

My brother-in-law has brought the family farm into the 21st century. As of this month, his new milking barn is online, complete with two robotic milkers. Really, they’re “voluntary milkers” since the cows choose when to be milked, but since a robotic arm with camera and laser sights finds the udder and completes the milking process, it’s just fun to call them robots. It’s really quite an accomplishment for the farm. They are the second farm in Ohio to install them, and the first to actually build a barn to house the whole system (feeding, milking, resting). So they’re kind of a showplace for the entire state. And it’s a huge change from how “it’s always been.” They milked in the old parlor, twice a day every day, for 61 years. Which means, for the first time in his life, Alan will be able to leave the farm for more than 6 hours between milkings! So we are super excited for him and for the completion of the whole 4-year process!

4. New Adventures

We’ve started lots of new things this fall.

Megan got a toddler bed, which she loves. For weeks (and probably even now), she wanted to show everyone who walked into our house her new bed that Daddy built for her (he just assembled it, but hey, she’s 2). She’s also getting her two-year molars. NOT FUN. She is the worst teether of all three, and it’s been weeks and weeks of her waking up 1-3 times every night. I’m ready for these teeth to GET HERE already!

Alex and Erin finally moved to their 3-year old Sunday school classroom and started Cubbies at church this month. They LOVE them. They were so ready to be challenged a bit more and they have so much fun with the activities and songs and everything. It’s so fun to watch them move into a new phase like that.

We did not get them into preschool this year, but I am trying to do more preschool-type activities with them. So we do preschool storytime at the library and have “worksheet time” once or twice a week. They love the tracing and pre-writing activities. Erin’s been working on writing letters for a while by choice, but Alex is eating up the learning process, too. 

Also new for us is the transition to playing more without direction. It’s so great to have 30 minutes or more, most days, when all 3 kids play together without needing me to watch or create games for them. They play pretend (even Megan), dress-up, do puzzles, create climbing/jumping activities, play hide-and-seek, etc. They are fun to watch, for sure.

We also have a neighbor girl who comes over once a week or so to play with the kids while I do some things. She’s not quite old enough for babysitting alone, but she’s perfect for a “Mommy’s helper” situation. The kids LOVE Hannah, and they can’t wait for naps to end on Wednesdays so that she can come over. And it’s nice for me…one week, I got my kitchen mopped and another time, cleaned my bathrooms. Woohoo!! (Her mom told me later that she was totally amazed how happy I was to mop my floor…but seriously, I was ecstatic! )

5. Third Trimester

We are now in the final trimester of this pregnancy – 28 weeks tomorrow. I have no pictures of myself really. The best I can do is one from Meg’s party. But it’s at least a shot of where we stand.

About a month ago, I was having a lot of trouble with my hips and with baby boy sitting very low, but both have gotten a lot better. My hip still hurts when I work too hard, but he’s gotten a lot more active, so he doesn’t tend to just hang out right at the bottom of everything. Super nice of him, I know. We don’t have a name for him, though Alex is still convinced we’ll be calling him “Little Alex.” I tried to dissuade him of that idea a couple of weeks ago, but his meltdown was pretty intense. So I think we’re just going to have to let him keep thinking that until we have an actual name to offer instead! 

Anyway, I’m sure it won’t take 13 more weeks before I’ll be ready to be done with the whole thing. And I haven’t had my diabetes test yet, so I haven’t had to start that routine again yet. 

And that’s about all I have right now, I guess. We are still just trying to survive each day (which is hard when I’m pregnant and tired), but most days we have a rhythm that works. And always we have a God who walks with us through the dailyness of life. And a Daddy who comes home every night. And a home and warm water and blessings well beyond what we deserve. So really, it’s a good, good life. 

Happy Wednesday!

Exactly one month before she turns 2, Megan has begun to sternly announce, “No, Mommy. I do it all by myself!” I’m absolutely certain the twins were not this young when they started using this phrase. Oh, the joy. 

Alex threw an gigantic fit for the entire drive home from Meijer today because I decided we were too close to meltdowns to go to Sam’s Club, too. Apparently, I was right. Oh, the joy.

Erin has started making these horrible noises when she’s griping. They aren’t quite a whine. They aren’t quite a meltdown. They sound more like a sick cow has moved into the living room. Oh, the joy.

Mealtimes are fun these days, too. We never want what we are served. We begin almost every meal with a loud list of what on the plate we don’t like. We leave food uneaten at most meals, but we are always “still hungry” after polishing off whatever snacks we have in between. Oh, the joy.

Children have been banned from sitting on Mommy’s bed, except by invitation, because in the last three weeks, the mattress and/or sheets have been drawn on (with marker), peed on (multiple times) and pooped on. Oh, the joy. 

But then again…

Alex wants to talk to and nuzzle his new brother in my belly. He also tried to look down my throat to see him (“We need a flashlight,” I was told.) That is joy. 

Both Alex and Erin have started to “read” books to Megan when I’m not around. That is joy.

They love to go through our ABC verses. Little voices planting forever seeds into little hearts: “Fear not, for I am with you. Children obey your parents. My help comes from the Lord. Keep your tongue from evil. God is love.” That is joy.

Erin helping Megan do and learn new things. Megan offering to share: “Which one you like?” Sweet sister moments. That is joy. 

Healthy children who are able to do so much (and the constant stream of “Look at me” with such pride over their accomplishments). That is joy. 

Sweet laughter as they play together. Dressing up. Dressing each other up. Playing “Dragon” and Hide and Seek and 10 Little Monkeys. Doing puzzles or stickers. Building with blocks. Playing on the couch cushions. That is joy. 

Alex, my storyteller, recording our lives (“Once upon a time, the two green lights turned into one red light and we did not have internet. Our computer did not work. And our TV did not work. And our speaker phone (landline) did not work. Because the wire was broken. But the white man came and turned the red light back into two green lights. And finally, our computer, and our TV, and our speaker phone worked again. And the wire was fixed. The end.”) That is joy.

Realizing, every once in a while, that the moment of disciple was rightly handled, blessed by the Spirit, and that true fellowship was restored. That is joy. 

Our life is filled with joy. I often forget. I’m distracted by our crazy, busy, up-and-down, learning-all-the-time chaos. I get so frustrated when they don’t get it right. I get more frustrated that I can’t seem to get it right. But still, Jesus joins us in the mix. And when I remember to look for Him…there is joy. 

So a little book I was reading recently reminded moms of young children that, no matter how easy it is to focus on the one thing a child is getting wrong, we have to be careful not to lose sight of all the progress he or she makes every day. 

Given that I have focused almost entirely on my little dude’s PT issues, in real life and online, this statement really struck me. I have really worked hard in the last couple of weeks to praise Alex for all the stuff he gets right in a day. For all the ways he blesses my socks off. For what a sweet and wonderful little guy God placed in our life. But I also decided I needed to record some of what I’ve been telling him so everybody else knows what a fantastic little boy we have, too.

So…here are some random details about Alex for you to enjoy.

In recent days, Alex has started to give his sisters nicknames. Especially Megan. For a while this summer she was called (and answered to) “My Little Cowie-Wowie.” She was also dubbed Bo-Bo for a few days. Of course, he took to calling himself “Dirty Rock” around that time, too. I have no idea why, but he thinks he’s hysterical. 

Alex is best described as consistent. Sometimes that is frustrating (like when he won’t go potty just a minute earlier). But when I stopped to think about it, I realized that most of the time, it’s a really great trait. Once he decides to do something, he does that way almost every single time. Like taking his own dishes to the counter after meals. We started giving the twins that “chore” to do, and after about two days, Alex had it down. I never have to remind him. He just does it. 

He’s quite the helper, still. He likes to help me cook or bake (actually all 3 will line up chairs to watch and assist). And he’s started being very concerned that we get our toys put away in the afternoon so Daddy can pull all the way into the garage. He will put them all away by himself…sometimes 45 minutes before Daddy is due home. 

He LOVES the idea of a new baby boy. He wants to show just about everyone who comes over the ultrasound pictures of the baby’s boy parts. He talks to the baby through my shirt. And he’s decided we should call the baby “Little Alex.” 

Alex loves for you to praise him. But he does not do things for praise. Much like his dad, he doesn’t care if you’re watching or not most of the time. He knows and can do just about as much as Erin, but he refuses to compete with her to prove it. If we’re doing our ABC verses, he rarely tries to outdo Erin at each one. But if you ask him about them when Erin’s not around, he knows every last one by heart. I’m always amazed at how much more he can do that I realized.

He is finally getting the hang of pedaling, but he’d still rather just run. 

Daddy is his favorite person in the entire world. He wrestles with Eric, climbs up to stand on his back or shoulders. He loves to snuggle with Daddy, curled up in his lap, while they do iPod stuff together. It’s really, really sweet.

The other day, he picked up a library book we’d gotten and began to flip the pages and “read” the story. He told the whole story and even got the words right on about half the pages. 

When he’s in the mood, Alex will climb up on some sort of “stage” and perform a song for you, sometimes one he’s made up. He used to just announce “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I will now sing for you…Twinkle Twinkle”. Now, though, he’s started holding his hand like he’s holding a microphone, tap it to see if it’s working, clear his throat, and then make his announcement and begin to sing. I still don’t know where he got all that stuff!

Anyway, that’s some of what my little Mr. Dude is up to. We sure do love him lots. He’s sweet and kind (most of the time). He really does care about his sisters (though his attempts to kiss Megan goodnight usually involve a chokehold on her neck). He’s definitely a special little guy, and I am super-blessed to be his mom.

To all the mothers whose children were easy to potty train…God bless you. I’m thrilled for you. And horribly jealous. Because I wouldn’t wish potty training a difficult child on my worst enemy. Not my very worst one.

The details aren’t important. Suffice it to say that Erin is about 95% trained. Alex is closer to 75%, maybe a little more. This week, I’m going to have to suck it up and start with 22-month old Megan because any more delay is just proof of my own cowardice in this area.

And for me…potty training has been just about the absolute worst part of the preschool years.

A year of being daily up to my elbows in the practical reality of potty training has finally brought me to my knees…face-to-face with how pitifully shallow is my well of godliness. Having stumbled into a realm where I cannot convince a little boy to go to the potty 2 minutes sooner, I’ve learned that whatever Spirit-like qualities I thought I had…well, there isn’t nearly the store of them that I would have bragged to you about even a few short months ago.

Yes, Alex can and will go. I’ve seen him hold it, by choice, for 9 hours. But on any given day, we slog through wet underpants, wet shorts, wet shirts, pee sprayed as if by water cannon to the farthest reaches of the bathroom. A daily struggle that no reward and no punishment seem to be an effective motivation to move past.

And I’m discouraged.

I feel like I’m the one who’s failing him. I know it’s his choice. I know he’s only 3 and half. I know he’ll “get it” eventually. I know all of that. But after I’ve changed the 6^th pair of underpants, 4^th pair of shorts and cleaned up the bathroom floor for the second time in a day…I start wondering what I’m doing wrong.

And I get frustrated. More than a year, and it feels like we’re spinning our wheels, making little to no progress. Of course, “everyone” goes on and on about not being negative, only positive, no matter how many mistakes are made. But honestly…that’s a pipe dream for me right now. Sure, some days go well. My attitude is okay. We deal with it, even have great success (he really can stay dry all day…he did it yesterday). But most days…it’s not just the cause of my ever-growing laundry pile, it’s also the source of my greatest mess-up as a mom.

Yet…here’s the funny thing. As I’ve searched and prayed and longed for encouragement and answers about the whole 10-car pileup, I’m starting to see that we’re really having the same problem, me and Alex.

There’s not much difference between his potty-training issues and my own.

Not that my PT issues involve the actual using of the bathroom. I can do that just fine. But my lack of patience, my frustration (even anger) on the long, rough days, my inability to find the way out of this one on my own, the desperate need for someone to tell me I’m not a horrible person, even though I keep messing this one up, over and over and over. All of that just makes me want to cry. Why can’t I get it right? And why, after all my striving, won’t someone just give me a hug and tell me something that will make me feel better?

And then it hits me…this must be exactly how my little boy feels.

I’m struggling because I can’t find us an answer (which I, of course, always have), because I end up scolding him for not going potty like he “should,” because it’s been a whole year of hard work and potty talk and I still can’t see the end looming anywhere in sight. I’m tired and too hard on myself and think getting it “right” means never, ever doing it wrong. 

And so is he.

He’s trying. I know he is. He’s been working on this for a whole year, too, and he’s not getting it “right” either. He’s my tender-hearted little man, easily embarrassed, and his Mommy keeps harping on how he’s not doing what she wants. He’s learning a new skill, and it’s not coming easily, and Erin rubs it in that he’s messed up and Mommy gets frustrated instead of showing grace.

No wonder we aren’t making progress…either of us! 

And on top of all that, I’m starting to wonder if this isn’t really about potty training anyway. I’m starting to wonder if there are much bigger things at stake here than wet pants and puddles of pee.

I’m starting to wonder if it’s much more about what sort of God I’m putting on display. Am I showing my kids a God who condemns us for our lack of perfection, like I tend to do to Alex? Am I showing them that, no matter what I say to the contrary, I still believe God is demanding me to never disappoint him, to always get it right? Am I illustrating brilliantly my complete ignorance of grace?

I’m starting to wonder if it’s less about potty training than about learning how to fail. First about letting my kids learn at 3, instead of 16 or 27 or 55, that sometimes you can work for months and months and still not get it “right.” That progress is the focus, not perfection. But not just teaching them – teaching me. Challenging my long-held belief that life is all about the end goal and my tendency to demand and fake perfection and forcing me instead to think of life in terms of choosing daily disciplines that will eventually get me to that end goal, but on His term, not mine.

I’m starting to wonder if it’s less about getting my son to go to the potty 2 minutes earlier and more about God designing for us an impasse that forces me to depend, to pray, to stop spit-shining my “good mom” persona and be honest about the depth and frequency of my mom-fails, and to recognize (and even blog about) my need for encouragement and restoration. Something that, for all of those reasons and more, I might actually need to be…*gasp*…thankful for?!?

At least, that’s some of what I’m starting to wonder. And I have no real answers.

But, when nap time is over, we will start again. Fighting the battles. Finding the grace we both need to get us over the hump. Discerning who my son really is so that we can find the just-right motivation that will help him succeed.

And I will start over again, too. Cleaning up messes (mine and his). Learning to forgive (myself and him). Asking for help. Keeping perspective. Learning to give thanks. Searching for grace.

Until one of these days, I can happily announce that we all survived the trenches of potty training. And oh…what a glorious day that will be!