Conversing with a 5-year-old

I am in the shower; but Ephraim absolutely MUST talk to me right now!

Ephraim: Mommy, we're (unintelligible) tomatoes!

Mommy: What?

Ephraim: We're (throwing???) tomatoes!

Mommy: You're throwing tomatoes?

Ephraim: NO! We're growing tomatoes!

Mommy: Are you growing tomatoes in your classroom?

Ephraim: No.

Mommy: Who is growing tomatoes?

Ephraim (shrugs): Nobody is.

Mommy (turns off the shower and looks at Ephraim through crack in the glass door, completely bewildered: Ephraim, what on earth are you talking about?

Ephraim: Nobody is growing tomatoes. I think the rain is doing it. They're growing on our yard!

Mommy: Oh...

3 Boys and a Wedding

Charles' cousin got married last night at a beautiful plantation in South Georgia. Everything was perfect, from the Spanish Moss hanging from the big oak trees to the gentle, cool breeze (instead of the usual sweltering heat!) As the bride completed her triumphant march down the isle to meet her groom; the organ completed with a resounding chord.

In the immediate silence that followed the ending note from the organ, my youngest child let out a belch that would have put most grown men to shame.

My two oldest boys and two of their female cousins burst into uncontrollable giggles. And, unfortunately, so did I.

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I buried my face in Ephraim's neck and tried to muster the evil eye. I cut my eyes at Matthew and Nathan and whispered "SHHHH..." giving them my sternest mother's look. They gained control of themselves as I stared straight ahead... and then lost it again when I buried my head in Ephraim's neck again and began shaking with laughter.

I had to walk away with Ephraim. Why is it so hard to quit laughing when it is MOST important you do so?

Ephraim and I spent the ceremony far from earshot, beside a fence, looking for cows and horses.

Where were you?

I was beginning my first school year as a stay-at-home Mom. After living the hectic life of a working Mom and wife of an international businessman; my new life seemed so easy and blessed! I was a new volunteer counselor at the Crisis Pregnancy Center, where I was learning much about having a personal relationship with Jesus. I was beginning my journey towards becoming a Mary, although I was not yet aware of this. Matthew was 4, Nathan was one, and Ephraim was still God's little secret surprise yet to come.

I was driving Matthew to preschool at Morningside Baptist Church, and I was listening to Bob and Sheri on the radio (they were a lot tamer back then; these days I do not listen to them in front of the kids!) Anyway, I was nearing the intersection of Moon Road, traveling on Weems Road; and I was trying to wrap my mind around what Bob was saying...

A plane flew into the World Trade Center?

At some point, Bob was saying he hated to say it, but he found it hard to believe this was an accident.

I was still listening when the second plane hit. As the day unfolded, so did the rest of the story of the well-planned attack on the United States of America. This wasn't a distant war story being retold by my grandfather, a veteran of World War II. This was only too real, complete with vivid pictures and video footage; and for the first time since World War II... it was happening on American soil.

I will never forget it.

It amazes me to look around and see so many have already forgotten. We must not take our freedom or our lives for granted.

The World of Boys

We have a lake near our house, and the lake is fed by a small stream that is stagnant in places. I am at the moment in search of an Avon lady to help me with a small mosquito problem! (I need some Skin-so-soft like Grandmomma used to use...) But I digress...

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A common pastime of ours is to walk down to a particular point on the bank of the creek and check on the growth of a large group of tadpoles. At the moment, they look like the little guys swimming above... no feet yet!

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As I mentioned earlier, this creek is stagnant in places... which means it really kind of stinks! Despite this, my boys (who cannot stand the smell of cooking vegetables); always want to stop and put their hands in the water, trying to catch the tadpoles!

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I'm not as girlie as I used to be, but this is something I cannot understand. It's yucky! I try to get them to stop.

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Me: You don't know what kind of germs are in that creek!

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Nathan: I can wash my hands.

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Me (trying another tactic): Don't touch them... you might hurt them. They're very fragile!

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Nathan: I won't hurt them... I'm touching soft. They feel good!

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They feel good? I have no answer for that, so I give up.

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The World of Boys!

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Happy Birthday, Ephraim!

Ephraim is 5!

I was holding Ephraim a few weeks ago, and he was talking about wanting to be a zookeeper when he grows up. He was twirling my hair with his fingers; and he paused and asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up, Mommy?"

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I was a little startled. The first thing I thought was, That's a really good question now that Ephraim is going to Kindergarten and school counseling is no longer a critical need... consequently the jobs in my field are few and far between...

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However, I knew Ephraim didn't want to hear all of that. Instead, I though a moment and then replied, "I think I want to be a Grandma when I grow up."

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Ephraim was horrified. "Mommy!" he exclaimed, "You can't be a grandma when you grow up!"

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Why not?" I asked.

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"Because grandmas are old, and I don't want you to be old!"

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Matthew and I laughed about this later, and I told Matthew getting old was better than the alternative (people who never grow old avoid doing so by dying young... not that I fear death, but I would like to see my grandchildren!)

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However, there was no convincing Ephraim. We just had a Scarlet O'Hara moment and I said, "Let's worry about that another day!"

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The Golden Roach

Consider life through the eyes of a child.

We live in an old house in an old neighborhood with a lake and lots of big, old, southern trees nearby. That sentence may bring to mind Spanish moss and fireflies... but there is a hidden truth about living in such a place in the south:

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Big black roaches that fly when provoked.

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Our pest control seems to work fairly well, because nearly every roach we find has stumbled over the threshold and died or is in the process of dying. However, I wish a spray could be invented to keep them from crossing that threshold in the first place!

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The boys and I took a late swim this evening, and the fireflies were starting to come out by the time we came inside. The boys were rowdy as they took their towels to the laundry room; but there was a sudden hush as the three of them crowded around an apparently glorious sight.

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"Look!" one of them breathed reverently. "A golden cockroach!"

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I watched and listened for a few minutes as they marveled at the sight and discussed what could have caused such a thing to happen. Finally, I sighed and said, "I wish somebody would pick it up with a Kleenex and flush it down the toilet instead of standing around admiring it!"

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Alas, this was not to be. My comment snapped them out of their trance, and they all filed upstairs to take a shower; leaving the roach for me to handle.

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Boys!