Blame it on the tooth fairy

This is Drew.



This is Drew with a very loose tooth.



This is Drew after he lost his first tooth!!!




And now, for the rest of the story.

Drew was actually home sick the day he lost his tooth. Of course we made a big deal of putting his tooth (in a baggie) under his pillow for the tooth fairy.

(A little back story here. A friend of his had already told him her parents put the money under her pillow, so he was not only sick, but also highly skeptical. I told him we certainly were not giving him any money, so his only hope was for the tooth fairy to come through.)

So, morning came and Drew slept in until after 9am. The rest of us were downstairs in the kitchen when he came in, all feverish and red-cheeked, hair standing on end, big scowl on his face and slapped the baggie with his tooth still in it on the counter.

"This is all there was!" He said, and walked away.

Yeah, the tooth fairy FORGOT to come. I know. Worst parents ever. Just give us the medal right now and be done with it.

In a matter of about 20 seconds, we exchanged horrified looks over his head, stifled our laughter at the dramatic scene that had just unfolded before us and then -- in a moment of brilliance only a mother's guilt could produce -- I offered this:

"You know, Drew, you are pretty sick. I bet the tooth fairy didn't dare come while you were sick, because she has to go from house to house and she wouldn't want to get any of the other children sick." (And we wonder why he's a germaphobe!)

He didn't respond.

Later that day we were playing the Allowance Game and Drew landed on a square that says "Lose a tooth. Receive $1." Drew looked at me and said, "Why can't MY parents give me a dollar for my tooth?!!" I reiterated our position -- either the tooth fairy comes through or you're out of luck. He just scowled at me.

So, that night we put Drew to bed and then realized the tooth was still on the kitchen counter. I went up to his room and suggested we give it another try. He responded by saying he was still sick so the tooth fairy would probably not come. His Bestemor had suggested putting the tooth in a glass of water beside his bed (I'm not sure where this came from, we never did that growing up!) so I reminded him of her idea and mentioned that maybe if we just put the glass on his window sill the tooth fairy wouldn't have to get close to him and therefore wouldn't have to worry about carrying his germs to the other children. He went for it.

The tooth fairy came. And left not one, but two dollars. (Late fee? Interest? Or are we now stuck giving him $2 for every tooth?)

Strangely enough, I think the whole situation convinced him the tooth fairy is, in fact, real. I mean, how else do you explain it?

Sleeping Like a Baby

I have never been the kind of mom to put a "shh...baby sleeping!" sign on my front door or take the phone off the hook during nap time. On the contrary, I napped my newborns in a pack-n-play right in the family room and went about my normal business around them. Newborns can sleep through just about anything and our boys quickly grew accustomed to sleeping through our regular household noises. As they got older and moved into their crib for naptime, I was still able to take phone calls, have visitors, vacuum and even practice the piano during naptime without any worry of waking them.

There is some accounting for personality, however. Though undoubtedly Liam has lived in a much noisier environment than Drew ever did, Liam is the lighter sleeper of the two. I've noticed recently that he'll wake up (especially if it's nearing the end of naptime) if Drew yells down the stairs at just the right pitch--or sings too loudly in his room across the hall. And while I did spend the better part of a naptime last weekend in Liam's room sorting clothes without waking him, I was pretty quiet. I've even found myself using the phrase, "Shhh..the baby's napping!" with Drew and his friends. I know, crazy!

Drew, on the other hand, can truly sleep through anything. Today, while he took a rare but much-needed nap, I decided to quietly dust his room. After accidentally dropping a whole bunch of legos very loudly into their bin--and not even causing a stir--I threw caution to the wind and noisily picked up everything off the floor so I could swiffer, too. Meanwhile Liam played and shouted exuberantly across the hall. Drew slept on. Remembering that when he was a baby, I'd often vacuum right under his crib as he slept (and knowing it was probably time for him to wake up anyway) I got even more brave and vacuumed the hall and stairs outside of Drew's room. He slept through it all.

Two other recent stories involving my deep sleeper:

#1 The other day we had to run several errands around town, the last being a quick stop at the local Christian bookstore. Drew loves to play with the Thomas the Tank Engine train set at this bookstore, so I told him if he was cooperative at Wal-mart, we'd spend some time playing at the "Thomas store" as he calls it. Well, by the time we finished our other errands and parked in front of the Thomas store, both boys were fast asleep. I tried for several minutes to wake Drew with no luck. Thinking maybe he really needed a nap, I headed home and attempted to carry him into the house asleep. As soon as I pulled him out of his seat, his eyes popped open and he asked, "Are we at the Thomas store? I really, really wanted to go to the Thomas store!" Since he had been exceptionally helpful at Wal-mart, we got back into the van and drove to the Thomas store. (I guess that's the beauty of living 6 blocks from downtown.)

#2 I mentioned in a previous post that we sometimes put the boys in their jammies and go for a bedtime stroll. One night a few weeks ago, we got them ready for bed and then decided to head for the Whippy Dip (our legendary local ice cream shop). I mentioned to Brad that Liam would probably fall asleep on the way there and Drew immediately piped up, "I'm not going to fall asleep! I'm having ice cream!" Alas, by the time we arrived, both boys were sacked out. After waiting in a rather long line, and fielding many humorous comments about our sons slumbering away in the double stroller, we decided we'd better order Drew a small cone in case he woke up on the way home. After getting our ice cream, Brad decided it really would be most kind to just wake him up. We tried everything we could think of, including practically sticking his nose right into the cone, before Daddy finally ate the extra cone (such sacrifices we make as parents!) and we walked home and put the boys to bed. Here's the best part: the next morning Brad was coming out of the shower just as Drew woke up. First words out of his mouth, I kid you not: "I wanted Whippy Dip!!"

The Balancing Act

Let's face it: much of the work of motherhood is really about giving up the self. Not in a horrible, abusive way, but in a healthy, peeling away the excess, refining way. And yet, I resist the notion that what's left should be something other than me. In fact, what' s left should be me better defined. I believe God gave me strengths and weaknesses, a particular personality and certain gifts and talents for a reason. And I believe he wants me to bring these to my parenting. Ultimately, if I rely on Him, I will be be a good mom because of who I am, not in spite of it.

Therefore, while clearly the main focus of my life right now is raising these two precious boys God has given us, I also have an active life as a wife, worship leader, church member, writer, reader, friend, daughter (in-law) and sister (in-law), and wannabe knitter. I believe these aspects of my life enrich it, and make me a better mom to my boys. But, I must confess, I do struggle--as so many of us do--to find the right balance. It's easy to make excuses both ways -- to shirk my mommy duties in favor of other things that feel more stimulating or rewarding at the moment, or on the other side, to flake out on a church or work responsibility and use my kids as a convenient excuse.

The answer, I know, lies in looking to God each day to set my priorities and manage my time. But that, of course, is much easier said than done. And ultimately, the heart of it is about living my life to please God, not people. That, too, is a perpetual challenge.

Clearly there's still a lot more refining to be done.

The Realization

I remember the moment precisely. It was just a week or two after my second son was born and the four of us were walking home, having just visited the farmer's market. It was a beautiful fall morning and the first time we'd broken out the double stroller. As I walked along next to my husband and sons, I felt complete. After all those months of waiting, our baby was here and we were a family.

Something about this second baby seemed to change something in my perception of our situation. No longer were we the cute, young couple with a toddler. We were a family. And then, suddenly it dawned on me. We were a family---and I was the mom!!!

It was in that moment, on that gorgeous Saturday in October, that I first felt like a grown up. I know, I know...I was already well into my thirties, had been a wife for almost 10 years and a mother for over 3. But it wasn't until that moment that I felt the full weight of my responsibility. And it almost knocked me off of my feet.

Thankfully, I know that my children are gifts from an Almighty God and he has ultimate responsibility for them. However, I'm fairly sure He has plans for me to have a significant role in their journey. And so, that's pretty much what my life is about right now: discovering how to raise my boys to be men after God's own heart.

Soli Deo Gloria