Butterbees and Bumbleflies

You know that place.  You’ve been there before.  For me as a kid, it was a magical, mystical place where all my hopes and dreams were born, and where the answers to all my questions could be found.  And now, I get to watch as Becca begins to enjoy that place.  The first time we went, it was information overload for her.  The shelves tower so high, and the books go on for eternity.  And we go to a very tiny one that has maybe 1/10th the ones I grew up going to!  But yet, she doesn’t know any different.  And she loves it.  She loves everything about the spongy padded floor, the little round table, the tiny chairs.  But most of all, she loves the books.

“That Place,” of course, is our little local library.  Becca loves books.  She devours them.  It used to be that she devoured them literally – as she frantically chewed on everything in sight.  Now, she devours them for what’s inside.  She turns the pages, she looks at the pictures, and feels if there are textures.  She likes to streak her fingers down the hard covers and make squeaky noises.  And she loves to listen to them being read.  Ask her to pick out a book for story time, and you’re liable to end up with a whole stack because she just can’t decide which book she likes best.  It makes me immensely happy to see her love of books developing at such a young age.  Most of the time, given the choice between a basket of books and a basket of toys, she’ll pick the books.

 

So today, I got the joy not only of taking her to the library this morning, but Cody finished painting our bookshelf for our family room, and has it all together and it’s dry… so I started setting up our home library for her!  All of the books I kept from my teaching days are for when she’s older – they have paper pages, not cardboard – but this morning it was so neat to have her watch as I put the books on the shelves up high.  She sat there just staring in awe at all the books as they came out of their storage space.  I’m nowhere near done with the project – I’ll sort them by type and author eventually – but it’s so fun to see her so excited about books, and to know that there are tons of fun books just waiting for her in our own library, much less all the fun adventures she can check out from the public library!  I love this girl so much.  I love books so much.  And I’m so glad that she loves “That Place” as much as I did as a kid.  I just know there are so many adventures waiting for her on those shelves, and I’m so excited to watch her experience each and every one of them!

I love those Tollhouse crackers. The Flip-Sides. It’s a toss-up between which side is better- the smooth, buttery cracker side or the crunchy pretzel side with its big chunks of salt. Well, if yesterday’s post about the negatives of driving 12 and 9 hours in a car with an almost-one-year-old was the crunchy, rocky pretzel side…. Then it’s time to enjoy the smooth, buttery side. And yes, this may seem buttery… Nay, cheesy, at times. But, to all of life there is a flip-side, and there certainly was to our road trip with our lil angel.

You see, MOST (probably 85%) of the time, she was good as gold and super happy. There is nothing quite like listening to a babbling, happy child playing with her toys in the backseat, content in her own little world. She talks to every toy she owns like it’s her best friend. She loves to sing along with the radio. And the best part is when she’ll randomly say “mama” or “mom” just to get me to turn around- so she can smile at me. Nothing beats her giggle when I tickle her toes.

She has recently resumed waving at everyone she meets (she quit this for a couple of months for some unknown reason as she gained several new signs), and it was super fun to make stops with her and haul her in places bc she had so much fun waving at the gas station cashiers! Heck, she even waved at the cleaning lady in the Bucee’s bathroom WHILE getting her diaper changed! It was around 8:30am and the poor woman looked like something the cat drug in who was NOT even 1/10 the morning person Becca is… Poor lady, I think if Becca had not come along to brighten her day she might have felt the need to o.d. on coffee and those fabulous kolaches they sell there. Yes, we did consume too many of them… Did avoid the coffee tho. But, I digressed… Then there was the cashier in Atoka, OK, who fell in love with her- said she was the first baby to wave at her all day- and then proceeded to teach her how to give a high-five. Too cute for words.

And then there was that moment in McKinney. We’d been driving for hours and she was becoming her typical squiggleworm self. I was driving and looked in the fisheye mirror to see a bright red face and started hearing little grunts. Oh dear. She has been pooping on the potty, with only one poop in the diaper for almost two weeks. How will this work? She looked as though and explosion would occur any moment. So, since we were in a city, I pulled off at the next McDonalds (it’s amazing how many fast food restaurants DO NOT have changing tables… But that’s a whole nother blog post) and proceed to carry her and her backpack of bathroom junk into the McDonalds, just certain a large gift awaits. And I was right. In a way. The look of explosion and sheer panic came from my blessed little angel WAITING for a potty! Sat her down on her first ever public potty and she had almost instant relief. We did our traditional wave byebye, (Don’t judge. We wave byebye to poop in this house. It’s what we do.) and got a new diaper and hit the road again. Seriously. Only had a couple of misses in the whole pooping on the potty experience the entire trip. And hey, that’s what diapers are for, so no worries! But if anyone had told me my eleven month old would hold her poo to wait for a bathroom, I would have said they were dilusional.

So then there was the stop for lunch (no, my story is NOT in chronological order. It’s prioritized in my mind.) at the Dairy Queen in Hillsboro. Someone seriously needs to help that company get up to speed with the rest of the world and healthy menu options. No orange juice. No bottled water. Only deep fried PROCESSED chicken (it is SO not real chicken) or hamburger or corn dog for kids- all with french fries and a free ice cream treat. Now I know why America’s children are getting seriously obese. Thankfully, I have taught Becca to enjoy REAL foods that are healthy for her. My non-picky eater who will consume anything took one bite of her heavily breaded chicken-substitute nugget and was done with lunch. I felt like a horrible mother as I broke it into pieces, gave her chunks of my toast and bites of french fry. But my girl stood strong. It was better to not eat anything than to eat that crap. You go girl!!! I went from feeling guilty to feeling a deep sense of pride. Then on the return trip, we ate lunch at Popeyes and again she was given chicken nuggets and this time a biscuit. Girl knows good chicken when she tastes it! I kept off the breading, gave her the REAL chicken and her biscuit, and she ate well. To say she has a refined palette may sound hoity-toity. But it’s true. This girl knows real chicken vs fake when she’s presented with it. And she won’t eat fake chicken. Nor will she eat french fries or overly buttered bread. You go, girl! If she ends up obese years from now, it won’t be because she wasn’t started off right. (By the way, for those of you wondering if she got any lunch that day, I did have a fruit pouch in the car and some whole grain cereal and goldfish. Not a stellar lunch, but better than processed chicken and fries, apparently!)

And then of course, the highlight of the trip was all the times I looked back to see her sleeping. Only a parent can understand that immense feeling of love you feel when you watch your child sleep. It’s like someone has poured warm syrup over your head and it slowly trickles down until your entire body feels warm and fuzzy. Normally to get this feeling one must do a lot of sneaking and careful door opening and closing and tiptoeing. That’s the magic of the car. A simple glimpse in the fisheye mirror or over the shoulder can provide this feeling at a moment’s notice. And she slept an amazing amount of time. I of course couldn’t resist snapping a few pictures. So I’ll leave you with them… And the knowledge of why neither of us actually pulled any hair out over the trip… And the reason WHY we survived. Because really, it was quite enjoyable. 85% of the time. The other part? Well, you read about THAT mess yesterday. Or if you didn’t, you can read about it here: https://butterbeesandbumbleflies.wordpress.com/2013/05/28/survival-of-the-parents/. (And by the way, her car seat cleaned up great and so did my car! Like new!)

It seemed like such a brilliant idea. Take the long Memorial Day weekend to make a much-needed/wanted trip to see my family in Oklahoma. Then Cody could take off Thursday and Tuesday and we’d magically have a six-day weekend! We planned. We packed. We prepared. We borrowed a dvd player from a friend. However, nothing could really prepare us for the mere survival we would wish for at certain moments.

9:30am Thursday- driving thru Austin, I made the comment that Becca would probably fall asleep sometime in the next 30 minutes based on the droop of the eyelids, the wiping of the face, the finger in the mouth… All the while “Hoist away there, Bucky” and “Never say never to a Neverland pirate” blared out at us from the speakers. Good parents. Letting her listen to her music while securely tucked away in her car seat wearing a comfy outfit with a fresh sippy cup of water in her cup holder.

10:00am Thursday- I think I recall saying “see if you can turn on a dvd so maybe she’ll calm down.”
10:01am Thursday- still screaming.
10:02- still screaming.
You get the idea.
Cody decides he’s going to *try* to nap so he can take over driving at some point because his head was going to explode and he needed to be prepared for the moment when I pulled over and had no hair left, threw the keys at him and told him to drive while I hitch-hiked home. To my credit, this moment never occurred. Though I did think about it.
10:15. Still screaming. Music has been changed to soothing classical, Toy Story dvd has been turned off because it was just a waste of a good movie we could only partially hear over the screams.
10:30. Peace. After 45 minutes of non-stop screaming, she finally knocked herself out. For 20 minutes.

Thankfully the whole trip wasn’t like this. However, I have never been so glad I purchased all those crappy sweet Gerber toddler snacks that she never eats because I’m too picky about her sugar intake. Omg. Those are magical. The only problem is, she’s not content to just eat four little cinnamon graham animal cookies. “Mom.” I turn back. (I’m now in the parental hot-seat, which as any parent knows is NOT the drivers seat…) “What, baby?” “More more.” She now signs AND says “more more” at the same time- as if to emphasize the dire situation at hand. If she doesn’t have more, the dam will break and a flood will insue.

Normally I try to teach her that she doesn’t always get everything she wants when she wants it. But this road trip taught her a lesson for sure: When in the car for a long drive, mom and dad are just in survival mode and you can get pretty much anything you want if you’ll just shut up about it and not scream! Ha! So, she got “more more” probably three more times and all was right with the world.

Then, on the road trip home, Cody won the award for genious parent. Why I, the most brilliant, organized, planner of a mother in the whole world, didn’t think of it is a mystery this world will never solve. But we broke the rule of George only at bedtime and gave our little monkey her monkey. Her favorite stuffed animal. The animal that magically causes her finger to go into her mouth and happy place visualization to occur. And magically, we survived the drive without too much drama.

Until Bucees.

Genious mom was hungry. So I bought a little tray of cheeses and sausage for Cody and I to put between us and split. I broke up a cereal bar for her and gave her four cinnamon graham animal crackers. But it’s Bucees. By the time we finally got back onto the highway, we had waited in a line of traffic for five minutes and the cereal bar and cinnamon grahams were GONE. Not even hidden in that mysterious dropped-snack oasis next to her in the seat. They were GONE. Devoured. But our tray of sausage and cheese remained. And since it was sitting on the little storage bin between the seats, it was within sight of our little pig.

Little pig, little pig, covet not thy parent’s snacks!!! So I gave her a few handfuls of cereal in her cup holder, handed her her water and thought that would fix it. Two minutes later I decided it WAS after 5pm already and we were almost home but it was really ok if we spent the last 45 minutes of our drive with a happy child instead of a screaming one (and I’d deal with the fallout later if she got horribly constipated) and I proceeded to break up SEVERAL of the cheddar cheese blocks to feed her (again, I thought one would be enough, but “more more” indicated death would ensue for our little pig if she was not given more.) Ended up giving her some sausage too. And when she decided she was still hungry, I brought out more cereal bar and more cinnamon graham animal crackers.

And we survived. Thursday’s drive to Tulsa with stops ended up taking almost exactly 12 hours. But we survived. Monday’s drive from Ardmore with stops ended up being 9 hours. But we survived. God only knows how much sugar was consumed by her tiny little body. But we, the parents, survived. We had a wonderful visit with family and friends. But it’s gonna be a long time before we drive that drive again. I’m almost thinking airplane tickets are worth their weight in gold to not have to drive that far again. Like ever.

Of course at some point I’ll forget this experience and we’ll be back on the road again- headed to Oklahoma. I just pray we remember the valuable lessons learned: George gets front-of-the-car (not packed) priveleges and we need about four bags of those little cinnamon graham animal crackers and two boxes of cereal bars. Oh, and- dvd player? That’s a must… With her shows, not cute movies we love that we are trying to impose on her. Nope. We need Jake and Mickey and Manny and Octonauts.

Lessons learned. We survived.

The car? Not real sure. It’s gonna take a lot of vacumming and scrubbing on the car and car seat to determine if the car survived. But that is a whole nother blog post about how ocd parents will do anything to keep their child happy so what follows is the nastiest backseat of a car with the necessities crammed in the center floorboard and anything else thrown on the seat within reach… Amid a myriad of cereal pieces, goldfish, and random toys and books that have been discarded out of the reach of whichever parent happens to be in the passengar seat at the time. Sigh.

We survived.

“Why?”  It’s one of the first questions we learn to ask.  Even Becca, who doesn’t yet say the word will hold her little hand up to the side of her face, fingers outstretched, asking “Why?”  And it’s not a sign I have taught her.  It just comes natural to her.  It comes natural to each of us.  We want answers.  Mainly, we want to know “why?”

“Why?”  I’m sure that a teacher heard that question yesterday, as debris rained down, and had no answer.

“Why?”  I’m sure a parent heard that question yesterday, when siblings were not found alive, and had no answer.

“Why?” I’m sure more than one adult asked that question yesterday, about so many things, and received no answer.

“Why?”  I asked it today, and God sent me a verse.  In my Bible study, our passage for day was the story in John 5 of the man who was healed at the pool.  Verse 14 disturbed me.  And I don’t want it to be God’s answer.  But maybe it is.  “…Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.”  But WHY?  Why the children?  Why those who are faithful?  Why?  I don’t know that answer.  I never will.  But I DO have other answers.

Answers From God’s Word

“Who?”  God.  That’s who.  “Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of his inheritance?  You do not stay angry forever but delight to show mercy.  You will again have compassion on us; you will tread on our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea.  You will be faithful to Jacob, and show love to Abraham, as you pledged on oath to our ancestors in days long ago.”  Micah 7: 18-20
Forever God is faithful.  Forever God is with us.  We are not alone.

“Where?”  The Lord.  That’s where.  “I lift up my eyes to the mountains – where does my help come from?  My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth.”  Psalm 121: 1&2
He will be our hope.  He will be our help.  He will be where our strength comes from in this time.

“What?”  Peace.  “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.  I do not give to you as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Do not be afraid.”  John 14:27
When Jesus came, he left the Holy Spirit behind to provide us with perfect peace.  Even in times of trouble, we should not be afraid.  For He is always with us.

“When?”  Always.  “[Love] always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails.  But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.” 1 Corinthians 13:7&8 
God ALWAYS loves us.  His love will never fail, even when everything else around us does.

“How?” On Wings Like Eagles.  “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”  Isaiah 40:31
We will move on by placing our hope and trust in the Lord.  We will move on.  The city will be rebuilt.  The schools will be rebuilt.  The houses will be rebuilt.  Lives will be made new.

“Then Asa called to the Lord his God and said, ‘Lord, there is no one like you to help the powerless against the mighty.  Help us, Lord our God, for we rely on you, and in your name we have come against this vast army.  Lord, you are our God; do not let mere mortals prevail against you.’  The Lord struck down the Cushites before Asa and Judah.” 2 Chronicles 14:11&12 

Our God is a God we can pray to.  Our God is a God of action.  And in the ancient days, He proved Himself in battle time and time again.  He will prove Himself again in this battle against fear, desperation, and hopelessness.  He will prove Himself again against the disaster that has occurred.  He came to help the powerless against the mighty, and He will again.

We are God’s inquisitive children.  We will never understand His reasoning.  Many will question.  Few will hate.  Few will run.  Most, I pray, will find their strength renewed and will soar on wings like eagles.  I have friends whose family members are missing.  Friends whose homes have been destroyed.  Friends whose places of business are gone.  But I choose to rejoice.  All of the people I know are alive.  Our hearts are broken, but if we choose to let Him, God holds the glue – the glue to repair our lives.  The glue to bond us together and to Himself.  That glue doesn’t answer the question of “Why” it happened, and those answers we may never know.  But it does answer so many others.  For that, we are thankful.  For that, I praise Him.  Good will come from this.  Yes, heartbreak and tragedy and more and more and more stories of defeat and pain will come from this, but so will Good.

Prayers from this heart in San Antonio, Texas, who will always be an “Okie” inside.

The story is one I’ve heard all my life. It’s about this woman who was broken. She had been married five different times, and had a live-in boyfriend. She was afraid of commitment because all she’d ever known was hurt. She lived in a small rural town. The townspeople received all their water from a well a few miles away, and every evening when the sun went down and the desert sands became cool again, the women would carry their clay pots to fill them for the day to come. But not her. She wasn’t one of the popular crowd. Probably because of her past. So this was how she happened to be going to gather water at noon that day.

The sun was high in the sky, and the desert sands were hot on her bare feet. She tried to make the most of the journey. The cacti were beginning to bloom. She counted the red and yellow and orange blossoms as she plodded down the path. And then her heart sank. She wasn’t alone. A strange man was there, sitting on the bench at the well. He was obviously from a different country, and this visitor would no doubt cause trouble. She decided to not make eye contact. She snuck around behind his back, but it was too late. He had seen her. He turned to her and asked for a drink of water.

She had no cup to offer him. He’d have to drink from her pot. This stranger. So uncomfortable. But, she drew her water and as she did, he spoke. He told her she should have asked him for water! How obsurd! He didn’t have a pot or a ladle or cup! He proceeded to tell her about her past. HER past! how did he know this stuff? How did he know about each of her husbands? how did he know about her children- the ones that were living and the ones who died at birth? How did he know about her mother’s illness and death? How did he know about the abuse she received as a child? How did he know about the rape and subsequent years as a prostitute? How did he know?

He offered her Living Water and told her she would thirst no more.

This man!? Could it be!!?? Could this be the Messiah? He knew her past. And despite everything she had done- every lie she had told, every pain she had felt and inflicted- He still offered HER Living Water! Eternal life!! She left her jug at his feet and ran all the way to town. Sweat poured down her brow and threatened to sting her eyes, but she didn’t feel it. A cactus reached out and snagged her hem, but she let it tear. Her whole life had just been told to her. And he loved her even still!!

When she reached the edge of town, she screamed loudly and called her friends and enemies to her. She told them of this man at the well that she had given a drink to. She said he knew her past and still loved her. The townspeople were amazed. They followed her to the well to meet this man, this Messiah.

He spoke to them, and they believed. They begged him- Come to town, stay with us! Teach us! So he did. He stayed two days at the inn, and the people of the town believed. They told the woman- we first believed because of what he told you about your past, but now we believe because of what he has told each of us about our pasts. And He still loves us!! He still gives us a drink from His well, and we will thirst no more!!

What an amazing story. Despite our pasts and everything we’ve been thru, everything we’ve done, Jesus still longs to sit down and share a cup of water with us. He longs to become more than just a stranger on a bench in the desert. He longs to be welcomed into our homes and our lives, and it TRULY does not matter what is in our past. Like the woman, we too, can receive His Living Water. The townspeople believed because of what they had seen and heard that this Stranger was the Savior of the world.

“No greater Love has man than this- that He would lay down His life for His friends.” May I strive to live a life worthy of that love, but rest knowing that He has come to save me, no matter what is in the past. For I am that Samaritan woman at the well. I am broken. I am tattered. But I am longing to share a cup of water with a Stranger. And I am longing to take that water to others, that they too might have their eyes opened.

If you want to read the uneditorialized version of this story, you can find it in John 4.