How to be a Christian

So you have a clear understanding that you are an imperfect sinner and in desperate need of a Savior. You've admitted, confessed and believed. I guess that makes you a Christian, right? But now what?!

If we read our Bible we see that Paul tells us in 1Cor 11:1 “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.” Well, we've heard the stories, Jesus turned water into wine, he healed the sick, fed five thousand, walked on water. How can we possibly be like Him? Let us go back to our Bibles. In Mathew 20:26-28 we read “... Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave—just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” We can see this same theme echoed throughout the Old Testament in Deuteronomy 10:12 “And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God ask of you but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul...” and Joshua 22:5 and 24:15 “But be very careful to keep the commandment and the law that Moses, the servant of the Lord, gave you: to love the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, to keep his commands,to hold fast to him and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul.” and “...As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.”

                                                                    

But do we have to? Serving seems like a lot of work. Yes! Let's jump to James, the brother of Jesus, and the author of my favorite book of the Bible. James doesn't mince his words, he's extremely straightforward. In the second chapter versus 14-17 we read, “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” The great theologian CS Lewis expounds on this “The only thing that is needed for evil to thrive, is for good people to do nothing” If we are not working for him, we are working against him.

                                                         

Ok, serving is mandatory. We can see that now. But how can I serve? I'm afraid to fly and don't speak Swahili? Relax. Not everyone is called to serve in the same manner. You don't have to sell all your belongings and become an African missionary. You're first obligation is to serve those in your immediate surroundings. Those that you share the dinner table with, your family. If you are a mom like me, wash their clothes, cook their meals, drive them around town and do it for the Lord, not begrudgingly and complaining but with a smile on your face. If you are a dad, provide for your family and be a good example for your kids, help your wife. Yes because you love them, but also because you are called to serve them. If you're a child, clean your room, take out the trash, ask your parents if they need any help. They will love you for it. I know, this is not always the most fulfilling way to serve. Let's be real, it can be thankless. But let's remember Colossians 3:23-24 “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” And also Ephesians 6:7-8 “ Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not people, because you know that the Lord will reward each one for whatever good they do, whether they are slave or free.”

                                                        

Secondly, serve in your Church community. Volunteer to become a greeter or a Sunday school teacher. Join the prayer chain or take meals to new moms. Trust me, there are a thousand ways you can serve your Church family. They are, after all, brothers and sisters in Christ. Thirdly, go outside your house, there are people in need all over your community. Widows, orphans, the underprivileged. They are all there waiting for your help. Maybe they need help with some yard work, or the clothes your kids have out grown. Carry around a sack lunch to give to the homeless man on the corner. These are excellent ways to serve others. Lastly, go out into the world. If you can't physically go on a mission trip to China, you can certainly support those who can. Pray for them, send them financial support, bring awareness about their work to your circle of influence.

                                                             

Now that we know that we are called to serve and we've seen some solid examples of what that looks like let us put this into perspective. You do need to set up some boundaries because once word gets out that you are a servant, believe me, people will come out of the woodwork looking for you to help. We need to learn to respectfully say 'no'. Make sure you create a margin in your calender. Prioritize the role that NO ONE else can fill over the one that anyone can fill.

Once you get the volunteer fever, you will see how rewarding it is. But keep yourself in check, making sure that your intentions are pure and you are not helping others for selfish reasons. Are you afraid of missing out? Of not mattering? Of missing an opportunity? Do you have guilt? Or are you afraid of disappointing others?

A wonderful Elder and mentor in our church makes this point “Make sure that your serving is done with a joyful heart so as not to rob others of the blessing that was intended for them.” If you're heart isn't into it, someones else's may be. God has made us all unique and not everyone has the same passion or amount of time to commit to a cause. Don't judge others service or seemingly lack thereof. You don't know what they might be doing behind the scenes.

None are called to do everything, but all are called to do something! We are blessed to be a blessing to others. We are His hands and feet in this world. When you serve you are in His will and will be an answer to someones prayer. This is the greatest gift in your obedience to God! 

                                                      

A Tribute to Gramps

 My grandfather, Tom, was born Gaetano Pezolano on July 18, 1918 in Brooklyn, NY. He was a first generation citizen of the United States; both of his parents were born in Southern Italy. He was a sickly child from birth and wasn't expected to make it past his second birthday. He beat the odds and survived childhood even though he was six before he was able to walk.

Tragedy struck in his boyhood when his beloved mother passed away leaving him and his six full and 4 half siblings. Again he was struck with an illness that left him bed ridden and again, he overcame the odds.

Thomas Pezolano in his Confirmation photo

He performed many odd jobs after leaving high school in the 11^th grade but decided to join the military in his early 20's. He was sent to Camp Wheeler when his number came up at the age of 23. Again he was struck by illness. The outfit he trained with was deployed without him. They were all killed in action. And once again he was spared, as God wasn't finished with him yet.

2nd Platoon Co. A 8th Battalion
Camp Wheeler, GA 10/25/41.
Tom is in positioned in the bottom row 5th from the left. 

He was transferred out of the jungles of Panama to join the signal corp. I remember him showing me as a child his ability to translate words into Morse code. He received a star for intercepting the signal of a submarine which was later sunk.

After 4 years, Tom ended his military career and took two years off. He then worked at the post office in a variety of positions before being promoted to dispatcher. He married Gloria, my grandmother, when he was 32 years old, she was seven years his junior. Despite their tumultuous relationship, they share two children, Maria, my mom, and my Uncle Thomas.

Tom, or Gramps, as I called him, loved the Lord and attended church regularly. Much of what I knew of my early faith I learned from him. He would show me with his actions what was expected during each part of the service and I would emulate him.

He was short and stout but was always warm. He'd grab my hands in his and warm them for me when I was cold. Even though his religion didn't teach it, he would lay his hands on me and pray for whatever it was that ailed me. He was stern but loving grandfather. He enjoyed fishing, playing cards and gardening in the years after he retired.

He had been suffering silently with an illness for a while, perhaps figuring since he'd beat so many before he would also be able to beat this one. But it wasn't to be and Tom passed away at the age of 67 when I was 15 years old. Although I'm sorry he wasn't able to see me get married or to meet his great grandchildren, (one of which carries on his given name),  I know that he's been watching from above and I look forward to getting a bear hug from him when we meet again.  

My life with Isis

After two aggressive and failed attempts at adopting a forever dog into our home, we decided to get professional help. We found a website, I believe it was run by Purina, and it allowed you to enter criteria that would allow a search for the perfect breed to suit your family. The only criteria we entered was 'good with children.' The Keeshond was the first breed to be listed and I immediately started to keep my eyes peeled for a breeder in Florida where we resided.

It was Christmas time and Santa had left a dog certificate in the stocking of each of our young sons. It was good for one dog, to be redeemed once we found a fit for our family. It didn't take long! In January, we saw a classified add for a keeshond while staying at my moms house in St. Pete. We called and made an appointment to go and look at the puppies that were available. My husband was working so it was just me and the boys, Jordan 4 1/2 and Christian 22 months. We drove a long way down unfamiliar roads with a red leash waiting to pick up our puppy.

We turned into the drive off of a desolate, tree-lined state road and found that it was a farm, of sorts. We heard the barking as soon as we pulled up. The woman had one breeding pair of keeshonds on her property the others were huskys.  The male keeshond was large...probably 50 pounds. He was in a pen barking incessantly. I was relieved that the female was much smaller, in a separate penned in area and she was tied to a rock by a long tether. The owner explained that as people were coming to pick up her pups, she was jumping out of the pen.

The woman led me and the boys into her house to were we met Isis. Her daughter had named all the pups, each litter with a different theme. Isis's litter was named after Egyptian gods.  Isis was a 12 week old ball of fur. Super soft and so cute, we fell in love immediately! After asking lots of questions, taking care of the paperwork and giving the woman a check for $350, I put the leash on her thinking we'd just walk to the car. She had no idea what to do and I had to carry her there and place her in the front seat. She was a little nervous but behaved very well during the 60 minute drive home.

We had already prepared our house for our new member with bowls and food and toys and a crate. The boys were thrilled. Jordan kept on picking her up and carrying her around the living room even though she was already half the size of him. We mulled over changing her name as we weren't that into Egyptian mythology, but Isis suited her, so we kept it.

  

We read up on how to train a puppy and she was a quick learner. We hung a bell by the door and rang it each time we took her out. She started ringing the bell on her own in no time. We also taught her to sit and shake hands. She was wonderful with the boys although never liked to play. She'd watch the ball you just threw role past her and then look back at you as if to say "What? Did you want me to do something with that?"

For a brief moment my husband thought we shouldn't have her spayed but look into breeding her ourselves because she was 'so beautiful.' And yes she was, but after researching the commitment this process takes, we gladly decided to have her fixed. Alas, her first heat had started. I was measuring it against the human version since I had no experience with the canine one. One week start to finish, this wont be too bad, I thought. Boy was I wrong! She was confined to the laundry room during this time since any doggie diaper I tried to get her to wear wouldn't stay on. Not too mention her musty odor could make paint peel! That was the longest 6 weeks ever! We took her to be fixed the minute she was done.

We had friends at the time who got a kick out of her name and nicknamed her Isis on the Buses. They had both worked in the cruise ship industry and during the land excursions a tour guide would always announce 'No Ices on the Buses!'  Of course he was talking about Italian Ices. But we thought it was a funny story and her nickname stuck too.

We moved from Orlando to Clermont late 2000. She was full grown at this point, weighing 30 pounds. We would walk her around the neighborhood and she'd pull us on the leash. I heard the 'Whose walking who?" joke too many times to count. She is in the Spitz family of dogs so sled dogs are in her lineage and she would pull the boys on their scooters. Once we had the yard fenced, she was able to roam free, and straight to the left hand corner where she'd go nuts on the dog on the other side of the fence. She hated that dog. I had to spray her with the hose just to divert her attention from trying to scratch her way through the fence. After a few sprays, I only had to go out and yell 'Hose!' for her to stop!

While in Clermont, we were adopted by a black cat that the boys named Pumpkin. Oddly named black cat? Well she started coming around our house during Halloween, it's the logic of a 7 year old. Pumpkin stayed outside since both Jordan and I were allergic. But she would sit on the window sill and drive poor Isis crazy. She wanted so badly to get that cat, even though I'm confident that she wouldn't have known what to do with her if she ever caught her.

She also had the annoying habit of darting out the front door. She had us scared a few times as we drove around the neighborhood calling for her. We lived right off of a busy road and always feared the worst. On one occasion I chased her on foot through the neighborhood calling her name. She would stop and look back to see if I was following and then take off before I got too close. I finally said 'Forget it' and turned to walk home, of course she gave up the game and followed me.  She did love riding in the car though, so whenever she darted out, we'd run and open the car door and she'd jump in. After a while she'd just dart straight to the car and wait.

January 2006 we made another intrastate move to Ocala. Our house was two stories on 3/4 acre of property. When we first brought her home, we all went upstairs and called to her from the loft. It was funny to watch her spinning around trying to find us. She finally figured it out and ran up the stairs. She slept at the foot of our bed at night and was always alert. She'd start barking before my husband even drove up the driveway.

Boy did she love that yard and would stay out for hours. She would dig a hole in the corner of the fence and lay in it keeping cool during the hot summer months. But I think she loved when it cooled down better. It was hard to get her to come in. "Treat!" we'd call and then she'd finally relent and come inside.

Pumpkin was killed by a car while we were away one weekend. Our neighbor buried her under a tree. We saw phantom Pumpkins for a while. I don't think Isis missed her much but we did and decided to fill this void with a small dog. We found an add for an 'oops' litter and brought home Yoohoo, the schweenie, that day. She was so tiny she fit in my slipper. Isis tolerated Yoohoo who would be jumping in her face trying to get her to engage. But Isis wasn't the playing type and would ignore her until she had enough and then snap and bark at her.

Isis and her cousin Dexter

I found out I was pregnant the summer of 2009. I was a little worried about how our aging Isis was going to handle the change.  She had been getting a little ornery in her old age. I remember one night I got up to use the bathroom and tripped over her on the floor at the foot of our bed. She must have been startled and she growled and bit my butt! Another incident that caused us concern was when she did the same thing to our niece who was maybe 2 at the time.

Kaleb was born in 2010 and Isis did fine. Until he began getting mobile. She did snap at him a few times as he toddled by her and accidentally got too close or stepped on her toe. We let her know that this was not ok, we didn't care how old she was. We kept careful watch hoping we wouldn't need to find her a new home. She minded her manners and Kaleb kept a wide girth.

In May of 2011 we made the cross country move to San Diego. Isis was 11 1/2 and did a great job being squished between suitcases and coolers during the 5 day 4 night road trip. We have no yard to speak of so we'd walk around the block or take them both to dog beach where they could run free. She stayed away from the water but loved visiting other people on the beach. Yoohoo didn't like to get too far away from us, she's pretty tiny but she did feel safe when she was near Isis.

Her hearing went first. We'd call her name and she didn't even turn her head. She'd start barking at the door only when she saw Yoohoo doing it. One day she was outside and I was calling her in but her back was turned to me. Yoohoo ran over to get her attention and basically led her in the house.

Then she became incontinent and started urinating in the house. This got pretty annoying as we were cleaning up pee daily. Her eating habits weren't the best and she had trouble keeping food down. We knew her time was almost up.

On Sunday, Jan 13th we went to church as usual. When we got back she was sitting in the sun on the back steps. She seemed ok so we left her alone figuring she'd bark or scratch to come in like she always had. A few hours passed and I was going to take Kaleb for a walk. It was then that I found Isis had slipped between the steps and the fence and couldn't get up. I don't know how long she was like this. I tried to prop her on her hind legs but they wouldn't support her weight. I carried her and her blanket inside and laid her in the kitchen. I knew she'd be gone before the next morning. I brushed her and spent some time with her telling her it was ok. She managed to get up very shakily and move to her favorite spot under the table where she then died. Christian was with her and he came to me as I was getting Kaleb ready for bed. "I think Isis just died, I thought she was going to vomit but then she made a weird noise and now she's not breathing." I ran down and confirmed. Isis was gone.

Her last car ride wasn't much like her first. Although she was carried in both times, today she was cold and stiff and wrapped in a plastic bag. "You don't have to come," my husband said. But I did have to. I had to see her off to her next destination. She will be cremated with other pets who've passed, their ashes spread in the ocean.

The Rainbow Bridge...where I hope to meet her again someday. 

  

Evolution of the Chore

It starts right about age 2. You know, the desire to 'help' mom or dad with whatever we are doing. Of course, we as parents want to promote this helpful behavior so we give them a paper towel or a sponge and encourage them to clean the table, which they enjoy immensely even though they are very bad at it. We wouldn't dare injure their fragile spirits by telling them they missed a spot, so after they're done spreading dirt all over the place (including the floor which wasn't even dirty before!) we thank them for helping and then go back and re-clean their mess.

 

As they grow older we gently direct them by teaching them the proper way to do things around the house. This is how you put away the dishes, clean the bathroom or vacuum the floor. They are getting better but they are also realizing this is actual work and they become less eager to help. Of course we still have to go behind them to finish their task up to our standards.

 

Then we hit the teen years. Now we have a written list of chores that they are responsible for and even though they've been doing it since they were six years old, they are still surprised when the garbage needs to be taken out. Rarely does something get done on the first request . And while it was cute as a toddler, the fact that things still aren't done up to par, is much less endearing as a teenager.

Having said all that...what's the solution? How do we get them to do their chores the first time we ask (or if you really want to give me a heart attack, BEFORE I ask!) without complaining and to the best of their ability, which I know is better than what I've seen?  

Money? Do we pay our kids to do the every day things that I've been doing for free for years? I don't think so, they're not hired help, they actually had a hand in contributing to the mess. 

Withholding privileges? Alone, I guess this works with timeliness but doesn't promote a 'no complaining' attitude or doing things to the 'best of their ability' They're usually rushed to get it done so they can go do whatever they think is more important.  

Positive reinforcement? Nice thought but I think teens have short term memory loss when it comes to this. 

In the restaurant business lots of servers have to be 'checked out' before they are allowed leave. In other words, the manager walks through their area to see if it's clean and if they've set up for the following shift. Are all their duties complete and to the standards of the restaurant?

So I'm thinking a combination of a few tactics may work. Withhold privileges until the task is finished, 'checking' their work before they are excused to galavant and giving them praise for a job well done.  It's not perfect but I think I'm going to give it a try!

Tears, I mean, Bananas on my Pillow...

 

Our youngest son is an early riser. Thankfully he usually snuggles with us in bed and falls asleep for another much needed hour or so.  But sometimes he doesn't and is wide awake and raring to go at 6am.

This was one of those mornings. But alas, in an effort to be considerate, my hubby, who was getting up to go to work anyway,  got him a banana, turned the TV on low and put him back in bed next to me.

Most moms will automatically see the red flag in the above situation. Yes, I woke up to a half a squished banana on my pillow and also discovered that, if in dire need, banana makes pretty good hair gel. 

Thank you, well intention-ed hubby and messy two year old!

The Socialist Fish

There's an award winning children's book called 'The Rainbow Fish' written by Swiss author Marcus Pfister in 1992.  Maybe you've heard of it? We have the puffy plastic bathtub edition which I'm sure is abridged.

The basic scenario is that the beautiful rainbow fish with shiny scales is the envy of all the other fish. They don't want to be his friend because he doesn't want to give them his scales.  He becomes sad and after seeking the advise of an octopus decides to give away his scales and of course all the fish like him in the end because they now all have the same single shiny scale.

Is it just me or is there something inherently wrong with this story? Doesn't it seem a little communist to you? I always remember hearing that if people don't like you for who you are they aren't worth your friendship.  This story is telling kids that they should give everyone a little piece of themselves so that they can all be the same.

As I was formulating this post I googled 'Rainbow Fish' to find a piece of clip art. I was surprised to find that according to Wikipedia (I know, not an entirely reliable source) there has been controversy brewing over the theme of this book  that I was unaware of. I'm happy to say that it is as transparent as I found it to be and many others see the socialist agenda behind it.

 Why is this story still so popular? It's title should be changed to 'The Socialist Fish'

Ouc Ouc...not what Robert Frost intended

My toddler has a problem saying the 'T' sound at then end of words. So when he wants to get out of his chair he says 'ouc' which we uderstand to mean 'out.'  My older sons and I tried repeating the word 'out' while emphasizing the 'T' sound but he still repeats 'ouc'

Today, in an effort to help him, we thought of a word that started with a 'T' to get him used to saying this sound. 'T' like 'Turtle' we said. And he repeated 'turtle'. Then we said 'ouT'  But nevertheless he still said 'ouc'

A few minutes later, and much to our amusement, he pipes up and says 'ouc...turtle'  I think our plan backfired. :)

W is for Dog?!

My toddler has several educational toys that he plays with. There is one in particular he's been attached to for quite some time. It's an orange lap top that teaches numbers and letters. At first he'd just turn it on and off repeatedly. But now that he's a little older he's starting to recognize the letters.

The keys all have a picture associated with them which is a great way to learn and it works. Except when three of the letters have an animal that looks like a dog! So when I ask him where the 'D' is for dog he'll point to the 'W' which has a picture of a wolf or the 'F' which has a picture of a fox! Who decided to do this? Aren't there a plethora of 'W' and 'F' words to use? How about fan, fish or fire? Water, or whale?

By the letter 'O' there's a picture of a tree. Seriously? Why isn't it on the 'T'  Oh, it's for oak...silly me. Why not a picture of an octopus? I'm beginning to think there are forces out there that are trying to mess with me. Don't they have a focus group of moms or teachers who advice these toy makers? Well, they sure didn't ask me! My poor son is going to grow up thinking 'W' is for dog!  

is for  

 (Or maybe this would be listed under 'G' for German Shepherd?! )

Paper or Plastic?

As a SAHM, there are many jobs that we are responsible for. Job's that are unglamorous, redundant and never ending. In fact, people with huge disposable incomes hire others to perform these mundane tasks. You know what I'm talking about...cooking, cleaning, laundry and my nemesis...grocery shopping.

Some people love this task, but not me. For me I liken it to a trip to the dentist. Sometimes I even put it off so long that we only have one can of beans and are using stale hot dog buns to make our sandwiches. Ok, I'm exaggerating, but not by much!

Let me offer you a glimpse into my weekly grocery shopping ordeal. After dragging myself to the store, I grab a cart and start filling it with a variety of food items checking ingredients and prices. I rarely use a list and prefer the challenge of remembering what we need as I walk down every aisle. Sometimes I have to take the baby. He doesn't like to sit in the seat, he'd rather be in the cart. When that gets too full I try to put him back in the seat which he resists and I end up holding him for a short while before I relent and put him down. Then he runs up the aisle touching everything and putting random things in the cart. I try not to take him if at all possible since it adds about 30 minutes to the already dreaded task.

After the cart is full, I wait in line to take everything I just placed in the cart out again. I usually take the time to separate my items into groups...refrigerated, pantry and cleaning or hygiene items. I do this in the hopes that the cashier will keep them in my segregated groups to make it easier once I'm home. I don't know why I bother.

Then depending on the store I'm in, (I like to mix things up for my own amusement so I don't go to the same store every week...call me crazy), I may also have to take my already scanned items put them in bags so then I can put them back in the cart for a second time. I actually don't mind this too much since I am then in control of keeping my groceries segregated. I use plastic bags, forgive me for always forgetting to bring the recyclable ones that I purchased.

For some reason the bags never fit in the cart quite the same way they first did and I can't see past the pile in front of me. I get to the minivan, open the door and have to move all the toys and miscellaneous stuff out of the way to make room for the groceries, which I am now handling for a FOURTH time!

I call my teens on the way home so they can be prepared to help me unload. I usually grab 4 or 5 bags on my way up to the door. Soon the counters are covered with plastic bags and I begin unloading them into their final resting space. In case you've been counting, I've now handled these things SIX times before it's all said and done.

And now for the pinnacle moment of my shopping excursion: The moment someone asks for a specific item that either I didn't know we needed or forgot proving that my 'by memory' technique is flawed and I should definitely make a list. At this point I need a glass of wine.

Parenting in the Playground

We live 2 blocks away from a beautiful park with a playground. We spend lots of time here and it's always crowded with kids of all ages. This is a haven for self-proclaimed people-watchers such as myself. I've come to realize that there are three types of adults who bring their kids to the playground.

First, there are the attentive parents. 

• Following their child around the equipment to protect them if need be
• Making sure that other kids aren't throwing, pushing, spitting or grabbing 
• Making sure that their kids aren't throwing, pushing, spitting or grabbing
• Enjoying the play time as much as their children are

There is a sub-group to this type of parent and that is the Overly-attentive parent. They are usually on the playground equipment trying to out play their kid.

Secondly, the distracted parent.

• Sitting on the bench near the playground talking on the phone,  texting or chatting; glancing up occasionally
• Standing near where they last saw their child, talking on the phone, texting or chatting; oblivious to where their child is currently
• Pushing the swing while chatting with another distracted parent
• Child of distracted parent has usually attached themselves to an attentive parent/child pair

Lastly, the absent parent.

• Hired a fill-in parent usually in the form of an older Mexican woman
• Above mentioned nanny's sit in a small group of 5 or so on the bench and chat in their native tongue  while kids play
• Kids are usually bi-lingual and have attached to each other
• Parents are missing out on the best part of their kids lives
• Kids are missing out on the best part of their parents lives

I'd say I fall into the usually attentive but sometimes distracted parent category. 

*These are observations from this particular very busy playground...findings may differ from the playground near your house. :)

Kaleb at the playground this past summer

Lysogenic cycle or laundry?

There's a quote I've seen on Facebook a few times. It's credited to Einstein, but as with all things on the internet, who knows if he really said it. At any rate, here it is:

Having 11.5 years of homeschooling under my belt, this quote has struck a cord with me. Especially since I have two sons taking high school classes as we speak. There are requirements, even imposed on those who choose to educate at home, to which every high school student must adhere. Depending on the state that you call home, your student will be required to take algebra I and II, geometry, biology, and chemistry. If they're on the 'college track' they may be required to take math and science that go above and beyond these even if they know that they will not major in these areas. Now, I have nothing wrong with these subjects, but to demand that they are required of every student to graduate is ridiculous. 

I think it's safe to say that by the time a student is 13/14 years old, they are going to know if the LOVE science and math or if they HATE it. Up to this point they've learned basic math and science in elementary and middle school. Perhaps they know what photosynthesis is and how to add fractions. There should probably be a fundamental understanding of nature and math. How much? I'm not sure. But do they need to know how to write a formula for sulfuric acid? Or how many degrees a supplementary angle has?  I've never needed this info, have you? 

 If they are not math and science minded kids are we imposing on them the need to memorize, stress over and endure a subject that is going to have no affect on them in their future? Are we forcing the fish to try to climb a tree? 

How about basic car maintenance and repair? I think being able to change a tire would be useful.  How to cook chicken so you don't get yourself and your friends sick? This sounds pretty important to me.  Balancing a checkbook, keeping a budget and understanding exactly what you're getting into when you finance a car or home? I'm pretty sure if these were required to graduate, many people would be better off for it. 

Reaching for His hand...

As Kaleb goes about the very tough job of being a toddler there is something that grabs me:

When he comes to a place where he needs some help he doesn't look back but simply puts his hand up with full confidence that I am there to hold it and support him.  

I need to become like a child and reach out confidently to my God who promised He will never leave me or foresake me. 

Family Dynamics

I run into this exact scenario whenever I meet someone new.  It goes something like this:

I'm with Kaleb at the park or library or store and strike up a light conversation with another mom.
"Is he your only child?"
"No, I actually have two teenage sons at home!"

To which I see the mental wheels spinning as they try to figure out my family dynamics. I know what they are thinking...
"Must be a second marriage baby"

So I find my self interrupting their train of thought to explain that Kaleb was our 'surprise' and that we're so blessed to have him. And then we go into the 'how helpful the older boys must be' conversation.

Even as my husband and I met with the OB when we first found out we were expecting he asked "Same dad for all three pregnancies?"

What's up with that? It's a sad state when the furthest thing from peoples minds would be that you were happily married and just had a large gap in between kids.

Me and my wide gapped family! We're at Salvation Mountain in Niland, CA