Sometimes we just get in a singin' mood. Actually, for the kids, it's usually more like shoutin'. But, hey, at least they "make a joyful noise" right? The top three requests here at our house are:
1. Baby Bumblebee
2. Jesus Loves Me (hip hop style when they can beg my silliness out of me)
3. The Fruit of the Spirit
For anyone not familiar with the Fruit of the Spirit song, it goes like this:
"The Fruit of the Spirit's not a coconut" (then you knock on your head and cluck your tongue twice)
"The Fruit of the Spirit's not a coconut" (knock and cluck, knock and cluck)
"If you wanna be a coconut" (knock and cluck, knock and cluck)
"You might as well hear it"
"You can't be a fruit of the Spirit
'Cause the fruits are:
"Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentelness, and Self Contro-o-ol"
"Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self Control"
(Then it goes on to say that the Fruit of the Spirit's not a cherry, banana, lemon, etc, etc until you have exhausted the list of all fruits known to 5, 3, and 2 year olds...then go back to coconut and through them all again until you have exhausted the Mommy)
This morning, as the 18th verse of The Fruit of the Spirit was coming to an end, Ethan inquired, "Do I have those?"
"Those what, buddy?" I asked him, relieved to be spared from the 19th verse.
"Those fruits of the Spirit."
"Well", I began, "Let's see. First, can you tell me what each of them are?" I challenged him.
He wasn't too solid on the definitions of a few of them but we went through them one by one, me telling him in simple terms what they meant, and him voluntarily giving his own examples.
LOVE: "Like when Asa falls down and I hug him and say, 'Asa, are you alright?'".
JOY: "Like when we went to Krispy Kreme in Florida and I was so happy because it was really good"
PEACE: "Quiet?"
PATIENCE: "When you're sick and you go to the hospital and be a patient?"
KINDNESS: "Sharing your toys, even when you don't want to"
GOODNESS: "Making good choices"
FAITHFULNESS: "I haven't no idea"
GENTLENESS: "Not jumping on the bed near Astrid's head"
After that one I stopped, and getting ready for the big wrap-up to the impromptu Bible lesson I said, "Now, this last one is very important. Sometimes we have a lot of trouble with it, especially when things don't go our way. Let's see if you can remember what it is. So far we have, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and....does anyone remember the last one?"
My question was met with three pair of wide eyes and silence. Suddenly, Asa jumped to his feet, bubbling with excitement and shouted,
"Remote Control!!!"
I burst out laughing. Then Ethan, who recognized the humor of the answer, joined me. And Julia, who had no idea what was so funny, began to giggle. Then Asa, who's always game for a good laugh, chuckled at himself, proud to be the one who had caused us all to dissolve.
I never did get around to explaining SELF control, but, if nothing else, the lesson was not lost on me.
I spend a lot of time trying to teach my children self control. Waiting their turn to speak, sitting quietly at the dinner table, having just one piece of candy, cooling down instead of lashing out when they're angry, listening and obeying the first time without whining or complaining. While all of these things are great, I will admit that often times my guidance toward self control can turn into a personal desire for "remote control" over them and their actions. I can sit on the sofa, flipping through channels, looking for something "good" on TV, turning the volume up or down based on my preference. But I can't do that with my kids. What I wouldn't give sometimes for a mute button or a V-chip to block out all the unwelcome words and attitudes coming from their little bodies!
What a gift God has given us to be "self controlled", rather than pushing all of our little buttons until our lives display only the things He wants to see in us. What a gift it is to be allowed to love Him in spite of ourselves because of who He is instead of who He forces us to be. What stronger devotion comes from knowing that we are choosing to follow, obey, and trust Him instead of being bullied into tuning into the "right channel". What a reward to know that we have chosen wisely and that our self control has led us to experience greater love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, and gentlness. And what a gift it is to our children to encourage them to bear this fruit while also loosening our white-knuckled grip on the remote control of their lives and giving them the example of a loving parent that our heavenly Father has so perfectly given to us.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Theology lessons from the kid who prefers to do puzzles naked....(see completely appropriate picture below)
Asa is what some might call a "character". More than once we have been told that he has a "mischievous grin" and that he's "charming but just plain naughty....". On his good days he's charismatic
, gregarious, and an all around fun guy. But, remember the nursey rhyme about the "little girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead"? She and Asa have a lot in common. When he is good he is very very good.....but when he's bad he is horrid. Anyway, I digress.
Two year olds have a special way of looking at the world. I think their little minds just take everything they see, hear, smell, taste, and touch, throw it all into the part of the toddler brain that's like a blender (a portion of the brain that scientists have yet to explore and have no hope of actually explaining), press the on button, take the top off, and say whatever mixture of their experiences splatters out.
Yesterday, during the portion of our morning walk where all the kids (5 in all ages 5, 4, 3, 2, 2, counting Elizabeth's and not counting Astrid) get out of the strollers to walk along a retaining wall in the neighborhood, I received my first mini-sermon from Brother Asa. He's a tiny kid. He's the youngest of the "big kids", and has the shortest legs. So, when Ethan, Nicole, Julia, and Dale take off down the sidewalk and scale the wall, Asa is sometimes left in the dust. Of course, it doesn't help that his ever-present cowboy boots are a size too big and on the wrong feet....that's gotta slow him down. As the more agile children ran ahead I was attempting to keep up with them while also making sure I didn't leave Asa behind.
Suddenly, I heard the click of angry cowboy boots on the sidewalk and a guttural, "Mommy!" I stopped and turned around to see Asa, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face, "Mommy! Don't run!"
"I'm not running, Ace, I'm trying to stay with you, hurry up," I answered, with the slightest bit of impatience in my voice.
I started walking again, slower this time, but the hill was steep and, I'll admit, when the stroller starts to get away from me I do tend to pick up the pace a little. My second reprimand came within seconds of the first.
"Mommy!" came the growling voice from behind me, "DON'T RUN!"
"Asa, I'm not running, I'm trying to-"
"Mommy. No running. Running is a sin."
"It's a what?" I asked him, trying not to giggle at the severe expression on his little leprechaun face.
"It's a sin," he stated.
I took a deep breath and decided to address this warped theology. "Asa, first of all, I'm not running. And second, running is not a sin. A sin is something that-"
But he didn't hear me. He just flashed me a silly grin as he shot past me at full speed, cowboy boots clicking like a racehorse on the sidewalk, one hand holding his pants up and the other swinging wildly, sinning, I mean running, with reckless abandon.
Hmmmmm.......either he hasn't quite grasped the concept of sin, or I've got one heck of an adolescence to look forward to.....
More spiritual lessons from the Allen kids coming soon!
Asa is what some might call a "character". More than once we have been told that he has a "mischievous grin" and that he's "charming but just plain naughty....". On his good days he's charismatic
, gregarious, and an all around fun guy. But, remember the nursey rhyme about the "little girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead"? She and Asa have a lot in common. When he is good he is very very good.....but when he's bad he is horrid. Anyway, I digress.Two year olds have a special way of looking at the world. I think their little minds just take everything they see, hear, smell, taste, and touch, throw it all into the part of the toddler brain that's like a blender (a portion of the brain that scientists have yet to explore and have no hope of actually explaining), press the on button, take the top off, and say whatever mixture of their experiences splatters out.
Yesterday, during the portion of our morning walk where all the kids (5 in all ages 5, 4, 3, 2, 2, counting Elizabeth's and not counting Astrid) get out of the strollers to walk along a retaining wall in the neighborhood, I received my first mini-sermon from Brother Asa. He's a tiny kid. He's the youngest of the "big kids", and has the shortest legs. So, when Ethan, Nicole, Julia, and Dale take off down the sidewalk and scale the wall, Asa is sometimes left in the dust. Of course, it doesn't help that his ever-present cowboy boots are a size too big and on the wrong feet....that's gotta slow him down. As the more agile children ran ahead I was attempting to keep up with them while also making sure I didn't leave Asa behind.
Suddenly, I heard the click of angry cowboy boots on the sidewalk and a guttural, "Mommy!" I stopped and turned around to see Asa, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face, "Mommy! Don't run!"
"I'm not running, Ace, I'm trying to stay with you, hurry up," I answered, with the slightest bit of impatience in my voice.
I started walking again, slower this time, but the hill was steep and, I'll admit, when the stroller starts to get away from me I do tend to pick up the pace a little. My second reprimand came within seconds of the first.
"Mommy!" came the growling voice from behind me, "DON'T RUN!"
"Asa, I'm not running, I'm trying to-"
"Mommy. No running. Running is a sin."
"It's a what?" I asked him, trying not to giggle at the severe expression on his little leprechaun face.
"It's a sin," he stated.
I took a deep breath and decided to address this warped theology. "Asa, first of all, I'm not running. And second, running is not a sin. A sin is something that-"
But he didn't hear me. He just flashed me a silly grin as he shot past me at full speed, cowboy boots clicking like a racehorse on the sidewalk, one hand holding his pants up and the other swinging wildly, sinning, I mean running, with reckless abandon.
Hmmmmm.......either he hasn't quite grasped the concept of sin, or I've got one heck of an adolescence to look forward to.....
More spiritual lessons from the Allen kids coming soon!
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Monday, August 21, 2006
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Friday, August 11, 2006
Heroes wear pigtails.
Tuesday was a beautiful day. Sunny, 80 degrees, a slight breeze. The kids awoke from their afternoon nap and donned thier swimsuits, eager to embark upon our daily adventure at our neighborhood pool (hey, with 4 kids, anything qualifies as an adventure!).
Ethan has really come a long way at the pool this summer. No more than a month ago he was satisfied hopping around in the 1 foot of water in the "baby pool". Then, one day he decided that it was time to graduate to the big pool and he jumped into learning to swim, literally! Now he leaps, dives, belly flops, and flips, uninhibited by fear or flotation devices.
When you're two and a half, five seems awfully big and strong and, as any good little brother should be, Asa is on a mission to prove that anything Ethan can do, he can do....better.
The pool was chilly that day, as it often is here on top of a monutain in the arctic (ok, ok, it's not that bad, but I do prefer my pool water somewhere in the 90's), and Ethan and Asa lasted for just a few minutes in the water before deciding that it was snack time (Julia was the only one with enough sense to stay out of the pool completely and had already begun munching on her Goldfish and Pirate's Booty). I wrapped them up in towels, plopped thier shivering little bodies down on deck chairs, and served them snacks. Astrid, not to be left out of the feast, began grunting and whining in the stroller so I took her out to nurse her. A friend of mine came over to say hi to the kids and talk for a few minutes. Asa handed me his snack and said that he was ready to get back into the pool. When he got out the first time he had removed the life vest that we make him wear anytime he's in the big pool without one of us in there with him. I asked him if he wanted it back on and he said no, so I instructed him to just stay on the pool steps. My chair was stationed right in front of the steps and a few feet from the lifeguard so I felt pretty confident that everything would be fine. As Asa entered the big pool, Ethan continued to concentrate on his Cheez-its and Julia slid off her chair to stand beside me and play with Astrid, who was finished drinking her milk and had moved on to grinning at passers-by. I turned back to the conversation with my friend.
Suddenly, I was assaulted by a little fist beating my knee and Julia shouting, "Mommy, Mommy, look at Asa!" Now, there are times that I might have turned to her and said , "Julia, I'm talking and it's rude to interrupt, please wait a minute". But, I guess the alarm in her voice startled me into obedience and I looked ahead of me. Time seemed to stand still as I spotted Asa in the water, about 3 feet away from the steps, in the middle of a group of splashing children, completely submerged and struggling. It was as if I was frozen there in my chair as his underwater movements began to slow and his flailing arms seemed to relax, succumbing to the weight of the water. I shouted "ASA! ASA!" The lifeguard heard me scream and by the time I was able to get my body into motion he was also jumping up out of his seat. I ran down the pool steps, fully clothed, still holding Astrid, who yelped at the shock of the cold water on her legs and torso. The lifeguard and I reached Asa at the same time and we pulled him up out of the water together. He gulped in the air, his little body shuddering with fear and relief, and dropped his head against my shoulder. I stood in the pool, with Astrid whimpering and the entire population of the pool standing still and quiet, staring at us. I carried my two little ones out, handed Astrid over to my friend, wrapped Asa in a towel and sat down to just hold him. His face was pale and his lips were white, but he was breathing and responsive. I praised God out loud that my baby boy was alive and, realizing what could have happened had Julia not noticed that Asa was in trouble, I thanked Him for my little hero in pigtails.
Tuesday was a beautiful day. Sunny, 80 degrees, a slight breeze. The kids awoke from their afternoon nap and donned thier swimsuits, eager to embark upon our daily adventure at our neighborhood pool (hey, with 4 kids, anything qualifies as an adventure!).
Ethan has really come a long way at the pool this summer. No more than a month ago he was satisfied hopping around in the 1 foot of water in the "baby pool". Then, one day he decided that it was time to graduate to the big pool and he jumped into learning to swim, literally! Now he leaps, dives, belly flops, and flips, uninhibited by fear or flotation devices.
When you're two and a half, five seems awfully big and strong and, as any good little brother should be, Asa is on a mission to prove that anything Ethan can do, he can do....better.
The pool was chilly that day, as it often is here on top of a monutain in the arctic (ok, ok, it's not that bad, but I do prefer my pool water somewhere in the 90's), and Ethan and Asa lasted for just a few minutes in the water before deciding that it was snack time (Julia was the only one with enough sense to stay out of the pool completely and had already begun munching on her Goldfish and Pirate's Booty). I wrapped them up in towels, plopped thier shivering little bodies down on deck chairs, and served them snacks. Astrid, not to be left out of the feast, began grunting and whining in the stroller so I took her out to nurse her. A friend of mine came over to say hi to the kids and talk for a few minutes. Asa handed me his snack and said that he was ready to get back into the pool. When he got out the first time he had removed the life vest that we make him wear anytime he's in the big pool without one of us in there with him. I asked him if he wanted it back on and he said no, so I instructed him to just stay on the pool steps. My chair was stationed right in front of the steps and a few feet from the lifeguard so I felt pretty confident that everything would be fine. As Asa entered the big pool, Ethan continued to concentrate on his Cheez-its and Julia slid off her chair to stand beside me and play with Astrid, who was finished drinking her milk and had moved on to grinning at passers-by. I turned back to the conversation with my friend.
Suddenly, I was assaulted by a little fist beating my knee and Julia shouting, "Mommy, Mommy, look at Asa!" Now, there are times that I might have turned to her and said , "Julia, I'm talking and it's rude to interrupt, please wait a minute". But, I guess the alarm in her voice startled me into obedience and I looked ahead of me. Time seemed to stand still as I spotted Asa in the water, about 3 feet away from the steps, in the middle of a group of splashing children, completely submerged and struggling. It was as if I was frozen there in my chair as his underwater movements began to slow and his flailing arms seemed to relax, succumbing to the weight of the water. I shouted "ASA! ASA!" The lifeguard heard me scream and by the time I was able to get my body into motion he was also jumping up out of his seat. I ran down the pool steps, fully clothed, still holding Astrid, who yelped at the shock of the cold water on her legs and torso. The lifeguard and I reached Asa at the same time and we pulled him up out of the water together. He gulped in the air, his little body shuddering with fear and relief, and dropped his head against my shoulder. I stood in the pool, with Astrid whimpering and the entire population of the pool standing still and quiet, staring at us. I carried my two little ones out, handed Astrid over to my friend, wrapped Asa in a towel and sat down to just hold him. His face was pale and his lips were white, but he was breathing and responsive. I praised God out loud that my baby boy was alive and, realizing what could have happened had Julia not noticed that Asa was in trouble, I thanked Him for my little hero in pigtails.
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