Africa

I woke up this morning at 6:30. Amazing how early ones body will wake up when one had a good nights sleep. A good nights sleep is a true rarity in our house these days. Of course, it could have had something to do with the fact that there was a tropical storm beating down our windows. Not a true tropical storm of course. Having lived through Tropical Storm Allison, I do know a thing or two about real tropical storms. But, Houston has the most amazing regular run of the mill thunderstorms, or so they seem to Houstonians.
I crept out of a warm bed occupied by my darling daughter and poor hubby. She was curled up to him as close as a cat. He had somehow positioned himself so far on the edge of the bed I could not figure out how the laws of gravity could so obviously be defied. I shall let them sleep in peace. I thought to myself.

The truth was I was wide-awake and could not wait to curl up on the couch alone with a hot cup of Joe. (Another rarity in our house these days, solitude, definitely NOT coffee)
As the coffee brewed I pulled up all the shades up on our windows. I left the lights off and let the brilliant show of lightning cascade through the windows. About every 10-20 seconds I could see the entire span of the living room as if someone has shined a spotlight in our windows.
I was thinking about how grateful I was to be in this huge room with a kitchen filled with food.
I recently finished a tremendous book about Africa; more then once the author referenced storms that seemed to put Allison in the dust. The harder it rained outside the more my heart went out to the actual people living in the horrors of Africa. It was a spiritual moment. The Lord came in and allowed me to open my soul to our starving, beaten misused brothers.
It is such a good thing to be put in your place. To be humiliated by your wealth and circumstance is not bad from time to time. I could not believe that I was complaining only yesterday that my kids could not be sick one more day or I would go crazy.
Today, I thought, how many African mothers would long for their babies to suffer only from the flu. Instead diseases so horrible rack the lives of themselves and their children, I can’t even associate myself in the same world as the maladies that plague those poor babes.
So were does that leave us? Am I to sit in my home in desperation and guilt? No, the only thing I can do is pray. Pray for the darling children dying, pray for the grieving mothers, and pray for the fathers that are and are not.
Christ is bigger then that. He understands their pain, my own self-hatred at being born white and woman.
How to pray? They want do not my life of democracy and easy goods; I do not want their life of work and tumultuous terrain. I pray that they understand something greater then the pain that is inflicted on them and loves them. I pray that one child is spared, and woman is not violated. This is never enough. But, Christ died for all sins, that of the “savage” and that of the “white concurring savage”. It is hard to pray equally for both. As for one I wish to burn in all the fire of hell and the other I wish to rule in heaven. I am not so easy; we humans want to kill even when the law sanctioned the killing.
This was supposed to be a funny blog…..

The Flu

Moses has the flu.
“The flu?” I ask the doctor
Since Mose is prone to playing in the ashes of my fireplace, I ask about that flu.
“No, your little chimney sweep has the flu”
One Mommy Flu Over the CooKoos Nest.


Turns out the flu is what Lola had to start with and hers turned into pneumonia. How utterly hopeless and helpless we are as parents. The constant rhetoric of, do this, don't do that, we dare not enter the danger zone of the play park in the mall, is everybody well at this party or that play-date?

The hand sanitizer, gosh, we use could fill up a bathtub on the amount of that stuff we subject our children to, not to mention our own wrinkled hands.

No control, is the only way to describe having kids. All the organic dairy products and organic locally grown fruits and veggies in the world could not save my little ones from the flu and pneumonia. Sad. Good thing our life is covered by the grace and mercy of Christ, other wise I might go crazy.

BFF

Countless times someone at a grocery store or a friend will say, “It is so great they are so close. They are going to be best friends!”

I have actually laughed in their face. So many fights, so little reward, or so it seemed. Oh sure, those early months when they were napping together and they were too far apart to care about the other, were easy times. Then Moses grew up, and Lola got cranky.

Going out in public is always an abundantly tiring affair. That does not stop us, no way. We are three on the move! I do it because I want to teach them how to behave together in public and I want to learn how to manage my troop with ease and care.





There are the usual “2 children in public scares”, no amount of preparation will stop; being terrified they are going to drown when I take them to the pool by myself, losing Lola at the Children’s Museum, (that was a scary day) or Moses eating poop at the petting zoo. It is all worth it when they come home and try to tell Daddy every incident that happened on these many excursions. Our favorite to date is when Lola came home from the zoo telling Daddy all about the "stinky snake" We are not real sure what made him stinky...

With each outing I become more confidant, more daring and dare say, less stressed. I guess it is time to have another one…hahahaha!

Now, now they are friends. Best friends, even a group of girls at a birthday party were unable steal Lola away from her Moe Moe. Of course if anyone with one child mentions having another before the first one turns 2, I scream, "Are you out of your MIND?"

Ode to a Shower

Every other day you are my friend.
I get my children herded for your bend.
Pre-dawn hours I rush to bloody my legs.
Every day would be nice I beg.
When there was 1, there were naps.
With 2, there could be coronary bypass.
I grew my hair long, no everyday wash needed.
No style has the tresses heeded.
Hot, warm, steamy.
My dear shower you are my McDreamy.

Club Miertschin

Both the kids have pneumonia. Lola is doing much better today. She has been listening to this great kids cd that Sophie’s DD made. It is full of weird kids songs. Her favorite songs are the theme songs to her favorite shows. I thought she was going to have a coronary when the Dora song came on.
In order to dance properly in house you must first pull off all the couch cushions and jump up and down on them. Then jump from one square on the carpet to the other. Pink happens to be Lola’s very favorite square.
It is very fun to watch and sometimes, most times, I get roped into dancing. If anyone wonders about my weight, they should check out the energy level of my kids, even with pheumonia, they could wear out an acrobics instructor.
Not long into the entire process Lola starts changing the songs after about 2 refrains. This part drives mommy a little crazy. Of course, it would drive me crazier if she played the same song over and over. Which she did do about a year ago. (Thank God that phase is over.)





Moses woke up with fever, and seemed pretty slow. Lola has made darn sure that he gets no rest whatsoever. He was laying on our dining room table chairs after picking at his breakfast. Lola spotted him and aimed to put a stop to that. She turned off her TV; this is unheard of even when the most enticing thing tries to lure her away. She grabbed his hand and the rest is history. I marvel at their newfound friendship. They have both grown up so much in the last 6 weeks.