Hank and Beans
I have always been on the more naive, or rather gullible side of life. When boys would tell me that the word gullible was written on the ceiling, I would say, "Really?" and look up, about every time. Maybe I was too trusting, and thought the best of people. Or, so I like to tell myself. And no, I am not a blonde. Does that stereotype still exist? That must be haircolorism or some politically correct term...
In the same regard as my gullibility, as a young girl, I was always a simple optimist.
Inquisitive adults would often ask me, "What would you like to be when you grow up, Rachel?" I would quickly and cheerfully reply that I would like to be a mother. It's true. I think I even have some documents written in crayon to prove it.
I know, it wasn't a very creative answer, but it was my answer. I loved playing with other kids. Who doesn't at that age? It appeared to me like a pretty fun job, getting to rock babies to sleep, kiss boo boos, and drink Diet Coke.
Over the years, I mentally made a checklist of the milestones of motherhood that I had to look forward to when I donned the title of Mommy. Here are some of these moments I knew, or I thought I knew that I would do as a mother: 1) Scream at my husband and say that I hated him while giving birth. That's how they always presented child birth in the movies, so I figured that it must be true. 2) Be sprayed with pee pee, by my son, as I changed his diaper. 3) Have poop on my nose, and I would not be able to figure out where the horrid smell is coming from. 4) Rush to the emergency room because my child has shoved a bean up his nose.
Well, so far, I didn't exactly scream at my husband during the three births that we have endured together. I just squeezed the life out of his hand, and so I am pretty sure he thinks that we had about the same amount of pain. I did have an epidural, so that makes it all a piece of cake. Right?
I have, without a doubt, been sprayed with urine during the changing of the diaper. And, I have unknowingly wiped poop on my nose. But, I think I figured it out pretty quickly as to the source of the odor.
Poop smell on your hands is the worst. Just throwing that out there. And you can wash and wash your hands, and often it is still there. Then you keep smelling your hands in disbelief, like you can't believe that your hands still have an unbearable smell on them. Or maybe that's just me too.
Ok, so now we are down to number four on my list. Rushing my child to the ER because he or she has shoved a bean up their nose. Ding ding ding, we have a winner! I can now check that one off my list.
I'll go into a little more detail for your own amusement. Rice and beans. What do you think of when you hear, "rice and beans?" I think of a few things. I can hear Dave Ramsey saying that phrase, when referring to what you should be eating when you are getting out of debt. Secondly, I think of the huge pain in the buns that rice and beans creates when you use this in its dry form in order to enlighten the minds and imaginations of children.
In times of desperation, I give my kids rice and beans to play with, as a distraction for when I have to cook. They absolutely love it, and it gives them a chance to scoop and feel different textures. At first, it's so cute, and they are just being little angels smiling and transferring rice and beans, and beans and rice.
Then, quickly, rice and beans start to be thrown high into the air, with much laughter ensuing. After verbal correction, the throwing does not cease. While raw chicken is on your hands, it's quite difficult to manually discipline children, in order for them to obey. So, as to not scream, I often feel my blood pressure rising as the food particles get more and more dispersed around the floors. I am by no means a neat freak, or a good housekeeper at all, and so it must be pretty bad if I am losing my cool over a messy and creative activity.
My daughter eventually gets bored of playing with the rice and beans near the kitchen and so she travels, unbeknownst to me, to the living room, where she then dumps a large container of the edible toy onto the coffee table. Of course, the mess is all over the floor as well. I decide to not stress out about it, and I'll just deal with it later.
My kids get bored, once again, of the rice and beans, and I allow them to watch a show as they await dinner time. My husband works late hours in the Marine Corps, and so he was not home yet. While sitting in their personalized chairs, enjoying their show, my middle son, Henry, who is 3, declares, "I stuck a bean up my nose!"
I ask him if he's joking. He replies he is not. I tell him, almost in jest, that we are heading straight to the emergency room if he really did. I was hoping it would just scare him enough to say that it was really a joke. Unfortunately, it was not a joke. With my handie smart phone light, I looked up his tiny nostril, to see a pinto bean, barely visible. Ugh. This is really happening.
I called my husband to dramatically announce that we have to go to the ER and that he should come home immediately if he can. Friends who would normally watch my other two in an emergency, but one set had kids throwing up, and I didn't want to share in that love,and others were busy doing extracurricular activities. And I kind of just wanted my husband to come home, because if a bean up the nose is not an emergency, then what is?! Take that USMC. ;)
I called my dad who is a family doctor and he gave me some home remedies to try to dislodge the bean. It could not be blown out by Henry, or by my own air pressure. Off to the ER it was.
My husband finally arrived and so I scarfed down the soup that I had painstakingly been working on all day. I did not want to be starving at the ER. Nothing is worse than being hungry at a hospital, with a sick kid. I had Henry eat something kid friendly because this was not the time to make him eat his veggies.
Henry and I had some quality time together, jumping through the usual hoops, once at the hospital. Eventually, in our own room, a nurse be-bops in to to see us, chuckling about the situation at hand. I guess it is pretty funny when a kid has shoved something up his nose, but it's not very funny at the time, to the parent.
The resident seemed stumped as to the best course of action, and the attending physician was called into the room for back up. Several techniques were attempted, including the blowing again through his mouth to pop that sucker out. No luck. Again. Suction, no luck. Syringe, no luck. Tweezers, not happening. During this time, as you can imagine, Henry is screaming and thrashing about like a tiny man in a straight jacket, as I am holding him down, and attempt to calm him down in between techniques. Can we say, "Fun times?!" Who's laughing now? Ha ha.
After about six people on the medical staff are in the room, giving moral or physical support, and one long and narrow hook later, the bean finally descends past the nostril, for an exit stage left. Thank you Lord!
Henry's frown turned upside down once I gave him a ring pop (yes, I thought ahead!) and a few more hugs and kisses. He agreed to never shove anything else up his nose, ever again. I am really hoping and praying that he keeps his word on this one.
So, there has to be a moral to this story, right??!!! For days prior to the legume creating drama, I was at the end of my patience rope with Henry. He had been acting even more irrational than his usual three year old self is on an average day. He purposefully broke his brother's piggy bank, spat upon Jack's friends and bit them, and even flashed his family jewels to his brother. At least he kept them in the family. Yes. It was bad. Or at least mortifying to me, as a mother. I couldn't figure out what was into him.
After giving such special attention to Henry, with the ER trip, his attitude changed today. He was more obedient, eager to help and show affection towards our family, and he kept his teeth and other body parts where they belonged. Success!
His behavior has made me wonder whether his lashing out was partly due to the lack of personalized attention lately, from me. Kids shouldn't' have adults answering their every demand, but at times, it's good to make a special connection with your child. It's unfortunate that it took a trip to the ER to figure this out, but I am praying that this will be part of the solution to future misbehaviors, which will undoubtedly rise up again. Probably tomorrow.
In the same way, as believers, we often start to rebel when we choose to not spend quality time with God, one on one. It's easy for me to enjoy corporate worship, and Bible studies. But it's more of a hurdle to make time, with just God and myself. I find myself multi-tasking, doing many spiritual things, like sermons on my phone, praise and worship music, and Christian podcasts. But it's so difficult for me to listen to what God is teaching me, in silence, or without distractions. We are told to be still and know that he is God. (Psalm 46:10).
With so many sounds, from kids chatting about, cartoons playing in the background, the trumpet calling outside in our military neighborhood, and a phone chiming away with new texts, I forget to talk to God about what is personally concerning me, and on my heart. I constantly am trying to improve myself, but it has been harder to be silent. Or to just read or listen to God's word, without all the frills.
Hebrews 4:12-13 "12 For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. 13 Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight.Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account."
God is jealous for us, and created us to be in a personal relationship with Him. The closer we are to him, the more we walk in His ways. Not because we have to, but because our love for Him grows. We then desire to obey. We trust that God is good, and He wants what is best for us.
I encourage you to join me in my decision to make a conscious effort to not only make one on one time with my child a priority, to strengthen that relationship, but to seek a quiet moment to listen to what God has for me, in my own personal relationship with Him.
The next time you are faced with the mommy moment that you have always looked forward to/dreaded, you can remember that God can use even the most random of events to draw you closer to your children, and to Himself. Even if your child has to grow a bean stalk up his nose first. :)
In the same regard as my gullibility, as a young girl, I was always a simple optimist.
Inquisitive adults would often ask me, "What would you like to be when you grow up, Rachel?" I would quickly and cheerfully reply that I would like to be a mother. It's true. I think I even have some documents written in crayon to prove it.
I know, it wasn't a very creative answer, but it was my answer. I loved playing with other kids. Who doesn't at that age? It appeared to me like a pretty fun job, getting to rock babies to sleep, kiss boo boos, and drink Diet Coke.
Over the years, I mentally made a checklist of the milestones of motherhood that I had to look forward to when I donned the title of Mommy. Here are some of these moments I knew, or I thought I knew that I would do as a mother: 1) Scream at my husband and say that I hated him while giving birth. That's how they always presented child birth in the movies, so I figured that it must be true. 2) Be sprayed with pee pee, by my son, as I changed his diaper. 3) Have poop on my nose, and I would not be able to figure out where the horrid smell is coming from. 4) Rush to the emergency room because my child has shoved a bean up his nose.
Well, so far, I didn't exactly scream at my husband during the three births that we have endured together. I just squeezed the life out of his hand, and so I am pretty sure he thinks that we had about the same amount of pain. I did have an epidural, so that makes it all a piece of cake. Right?
I have, without a doubt, been sprayed with urine during the changing of the diaper. And, I have unknowingly wiped poop on my nose. But, I think I figured it out pretty quickly as to the source of the odor.
Poop smell on your hands is the worst. Just throwing that out there. And you can wash and wash your hands, and often it is still there. Then you keep smelling your hands in disbelief, like you can't believe that your hands still have an unbearable smell on them. Or maybe that's just me too.
Ok, so now we are down to number four on my list. Rushing my child to the ER because he or she has shoved a bean up their nose. Ding ding ding, we have a winner! I can now check that one off my list.
I'll go into a little more detail for your own amusement. Rice and beans. What do you think of when you hear, "rice and beans?" I think of a few things. I can hear Dave Ramsey saying that phrase, when referring to what you should be eating when you are getting out of debt. Secondly, I think of the huge pain in the buns that rice and beans creates when you use this in its dry form in order to enlighten the minds and imaginations of children.
In times of desperation, I give my kids rice and beans to play with, as a distraction for when I have to cook. They absolutely love it, and it gives them a chance to scoop and feel different textures. At first, it's so cute, and they are just being little angels smiling and transferring rice and beans, and beans and rice.
Then, quickly, rice and beans start to be thrown high into the air, with much laughter ensuing. After verbal correction, the throwing does not cease. While raw chicken is on your hands, it's quite difficult to manually discipline children, in order for them to obey. So, as to not scream, I often feel my blood pressure rising as the food particles get more and more dispersed around the floors. I am by no means a neat freak, or a good housekeeper at all, and so it must be pretty bad if I am losing my cool over a messy and creative activity.
My daughter eventually gets bored of playing with the rice and beans near the kitchen and so she travels, unbeknownst to me, to the living room, where she then dumps a large container of the edible toy onto the coffee table. Of course, the mess is all over the floor as well. I decide to not stress out about it, and I'll just deal with it later.
My kids get bored, once again, of the rice and beans, and I allow them to watch a show as they await dinner time. My husband works late hours in the Marine Corps, and so he was not home yet. While sitting in their personalized chairs, enjoying their show, my middle son, Henry, who is 3, declares, "I stuck a bean up my nose!"
I ask him if he's joking. He replies he is not. I tell him, almost in jest, that we are heading straight to the emergency room if he really did. I was hoping it would just scare him enough to say that it was really a joke. Unfortunately, it was not a joke. With my handie smart phone light, I looked up his tiny nostril, to see a pinto bean, barely visible. Ugh. This is really happening.
I called my husband to dramatically announce that we have to go to the ER and that he should come home immediately if he can. Friends who would normally watch my other two in an emergency, but one set had kids throwing up, and I didn't want to share in that love,and others were busy doing extracurricular activities. And I kind of just wanted my husband to come home, because if a bean up the nose is not an emergency, then what is?! Take that USMC. ;)
I called my dad who is a family doctor and he gave me some home remedies to try to dislodge the bean. It could not be blown out by Henry, or by my own air pressure. Off to the ER it was.
My husband finally arrived and so I scarfed down the soup that I had painstakingly been working on all day. I did not want to be starving at the ER. Nothing is worse than being hungry at a hospital, with a sick kid. I had Henry eat something kid friendly because this was not the time to make him eat his veggies.
Henry and I had some quality time together, jumping through the usual hoops, once at the hospital. Eventually, in our own room, a nurse be-bops in to to see us, chuckling about the situation at hand. I guess it is pretty funny when a kid has shoved something up his nose, but it's not very funny at the time, to the parent.
The resident seemed stumped as to the best course of action, and the attending physician was called into the room for back up. Several techniques were attempted, including the blowing again through his mouth to pop that sucker out. No luck. Again. Suction, no luck. Syringe, no luck. Tweezers, not happening. During this time, as you can imagine, Henry is screaming and thrashing about like a tiny man in a straight jacket, as I am holding him down, and attempt to calm him down in between techniques. Can we say, "Fun times?!" Who's laughing now? Ha ha.
After about six people on the medical staff are in the room, giving moral or physical support, and one long and narrow hook later, the bean finally descends past the nostril, for an exit stage left. Thank you Lord!
Henry's frown turned upside down once I gave him a ring pop (yes, I thought ahead!) and a few more hugs and kisses. He agreed to never shove anything else up his nose, ever again. I am really hoping and praying that he keeps his word on this one.
So, there has to be a moral to this story, right??!!! For days prior to the legume creating drama, I was at the end of my patience rope with Henry. He had been acting even more irrational than his usual three year old self is on an average day. He purposefully broke his brother's piggy bank, spat upon Jack's friends and bit them, and even flashed his family jewels to his brother. At least he kept them in the family. Yes. It was bad. Or at least mortifying to me, as a mother. I couldn't figure out what was into him.
After giving such special attention to Henry, with the ER trip, his attitude changed today. He was more obedient, eager to help and show affection towards our family, and he kept his teeth and other body parts where they belonged. Success!
His behavior has made me wonder whether his lashing out was partly due to the lack of personalized attention lately, from me. Kids shouldn't' have adults answering their every demand, but at times, it's good to make a special connection with your child. It's unfortunate that it took a trip to the ER to figure this out, but I am praying that this will be part of the solution to future misbehaviors, which will undoubtedly rise up again. Probably tomorrow.
In the same way, as believers, we often start to rebel when we choose to not spend quality time with God, one on one. It's easy for me to enjoy corporate worship, and Bible studies. But it's more of a hurdle to make time, with just God and myself. I find myself multi-tasking, doing many spiritual things, like sermons on my phone, praise and worship music, and Christian podcasts. But it's so difficult for me to listen to what God is teaching me, in silence, or without distractions. We are told to be still and know that he is God. (Psalm 46:10).
With so many sounds, from kids chatting about, cartoons playing in the background, the trumpet calling outside in our military neighborhood, and a phone chiming away with new texts, I forget to talk to God about what is personally concerning me, and on my heart. I constantly am trying to improve myself, but it has been harder to be silent. Or to just read or listen to God's word, without all the frills.
Hebrews 4:12-13 "12 For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. 13 Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight.Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account."
God is jealous for us, and created us to be in a personal relationship with Him. The closer we are to him, the more we walk in His ways. Not because we have to, but because our love for Him grows. We then desire to obey. We trust that God is good, and He wants what is best for us.
I encourage you to join me in my decision to make a conscious effort to not only make one on one time with my child a priority, to strengthen that relationship, but to seek a quiet moment to listen to what God has for me, in my own personal relationship with Him.
The next time you are faced with the mommy moment that you have always looked forward to/dreaded, you can remember that God can use even the most random of events to draw you closer to your children, and to Himself. Even if your child has to grow a bean stalk up his nose first. :)
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