theNest

So, on our way home from Sea World we passed a hill that had a giant white cross on the top of it. The four of us were in the Jetta after a long day and Madeline was passed out in the back seat.

Owen – “Look! Look! Do you see that cross on the hill over there. Look quick!”

Garth – “Oh yeah…I see it.”

Karna – “Where? Oh, there it is…”

Owen – “Wait! Is that where they stapled God to the cross?!”

Karna – Laughing hysterically in the passenger seat, unable to reply.

Garth – “People put that there to remind people of what Jesus did.”

Owen – “Oh.”

So today was Superhero day at the kids’ school. It was a little tough with Madeline because I did her hair like “Princess Leah” and then we couldn’t find an outfit. So, we outfitted her in this Danish dress and behold, she was “Heidi” the Superhero of the Alps. Owen wore his “Luke Skywalker” costume and called it good.

My men…

That’s it. No more cold Easters where I am shivering in a pretty dress. After 32 chilly Easter Sundays, enough is enough. I want to enjoy the day in warm and comfortable cothing. I don’t think I am asking too much to be warm on a holiday but I still feel guilty like I am breaking the rules and “not giving God my best.” However, as I know God wants my heart in the right place and takes me as I am, it is apparent it is not His rules I am breaking. So, I am going to wear a nice pair of jeans – yes, jeans and maybe black ones – and layers on top (because CA weather changes in a heartbeat). You also know what? I am not going to make my daughter wear a dress – if fact, she can wear what she wants. She can wear pajamas to church if it helps her to know and experience the love of God. I am on a roll. I just can’t stand the “stand there and look pretty” facade. “Pretend you are getting the meaning behind the day even though you are outside, sitting on a cold chair, in 50 degree cloudy weather, and you are wearing little more than a thin sheath over underwear, with bare legs and sandals.” No sir, no more. Done…and done. Happy Easter!

Honestly, both Garth and I have put forth valiant efforts into teaching our kids manners and socially acceptable (read: non-criminal) behavior. However, at the most crucial times, one would never know it and could fairly assume that our kids were born in a barn. In general, kids do not think twice before acting or speaking and certainly don’t consider any feelings as they quickly throw “whatever adult figure” under the bus. I have been under that bus many times and I consider it a parental duty – and a public service – to correct the situation before anyone gets any wrong ideas about me or the kids. Sometimes, I come out victorious and other times, people just look at me and shake their head like, “It’s like she doesn’t even try!”

I have to admit that I have received the most judgment from people who have never had kids or, more importantly, people who have never had an Owen. There is no other way of saying it because I know plenty of people whose Owen is a girl, a third child, or just a curious and rascally child. Owens take the manner (and publicly decent) thing to a whole other realm. Let’s just say that if my Owen is half as mannered or clean as my daughter – who is naturally polite and tidy – I am ecstatic. And it’s not that he isn’t capable, because he is. It is that he could careless about what other people think. He seems unaware that anyone would be bothered that he is picking his nose, burping loudly, or building a monster truck out of his mashed potatoes. And if they are bothered and were to alert him, he would be thrilled and would take it to another level to shock his audience even more. Luckily, he still does care what I think – for the time being anyway – and I harness that power as much as I can. I try my best to keep the rules consistent and to remind him of inappropriate actions and consequences, including exposing himself to get a rise out of the neighborhood girls. Lovely. Regardless, I am so in love with the little bug and I really do try to see the humor in every awkward situation he puts me in.

Recently, I have experienced my darlings’ conspicuous – and loud – observations of people’s physical differences. At the grocery store, it thoroughly embarrassed me having to explain to the kids (in front of the poor victim) that no, the older woman in front of us – who is clearly past childbearing years – is not pregnant. What else am I supposed to say?! I don’t want to offend her more by explaining that she is too old to have a child. So, after turning bright red, I prayed that the offended party didn’t hear, which of course she did because my kid said it so loud! Then, I prayed that she would have enough sense to dismiss the comment as coming from a child. I did not make eye contact with the victim at any cost. Then I got a look of shame and felt embarrassed that maybe she thinks I am teaching my kids to say such rude things at home – which I am not! It was an innocent mistake as my kids assumed that a woman is capable of getting pregnant all her life, which I later corrected as we were driving home. Still, it is embarrassing that the kids would point out her round tummy, which I also addressed later on. One observation I have made is that people are much more tolerant and civil when my daughter states the obvious than when my son has chimed in. Hmmmm, interesting. Maybe it is the girl factor or maybe they feel more threatened by an Owen.

A few weeks ago, we were at our church’s feeding ministry and the coordinator asked Owen and I to hand out juice and sparkling water. Owen immediately started rifling through the box of juice bottles and when he came across a green glass water bottle, he yelled, “Cool! Beer, Mom!! Who should we give this to?!” My good friend laughed but a few others were aghast that a 5 year old could (1) possibly identify a bottle of beer and (2) would think it was so cool to give out free beer to the needy. Good, good. Thank you Son. Oh well – we try, we really do.