When sisters are separated

Yesterday, Little Sister went to school while Big Sister stayed home with Nana. (She is recovering quite nicely, but she has to stay out of school and most activities for 7-10 days.)

Daddy brought Little Sister home, came in to change clothes and grab a few things, and then headed out to work at the softball fields. Little Sister, in all of her excitement at being home and seeing her sister and Nana (and mom, I guess), didn't pay attention when he kissed her goodbye.

A few minutes later, she asked Big Sis, "Where Daddy go? To work?" Big Sister answered with a yes.

Then, Little Sis noticed that my dad wasn't here anymore. "Papa go to work too?"

Bis Sister answered in a sing-songy voice, as if she were a teacher or mother. Or at the very least, as if she truly missed her sister all day. "No-oo. Papa went back to Ohio. But Nana is still here. We have so much to talk about! Come On!!"

She put her arm around her little sister (who was jumping with excitement as she said "yes"), and both girls walked off into the living room.

As they were almost out of sight, we heard Big Sister continue, "Just DON'T mess anything up."

And finally a tiny, resigned voice said, "o-kay."

Back to normal... but it was sweet while it lasted!

Beautiful!

As I kind of expected, the girls got up really early this morning. I didn't get to have much time to myself to read, plan and pray. But I did worship. Because as soon as I came downstairs, I peeked out the window (and then crept onto the front porch) to see this:


Beautiful!

Big Sister's Big Surgery

Big Sister used to have BIG tonsils.

They gave her lots of sore throats and sinus problems and ear infections, among other ailments.

But as of today, they are gone (the tonsils, not the ailments. But hopefully they took those other menaces with them, too!)

After Little Sister's surgery a few weeks ago, I was better prepared for this one. I knew how long the waits might be. I knew how many people were going to be in and out of our little room, asking the same questions over and over. I knew how it felt to leave your drowsy kid in the pre-op room, in the hands of a few people you barely know but somehow have to trust. And I knew how some kids, Little Sister included, come out of anesthesia in an agitated, angry state.

I was prepared for the worst with regards to that last one, since Big Sister has been way more aggressive and agitated than Little Sis lately.

But instead, she woke up like a little angel.

She opened her eyes and almost smiled at the recovery nurse. When asked if her throat hurt, she sweetly answered, "No, I'm just a little sleepy." The nurse told her that she was waking up like a very big girl (and later told me this was very unusual for her age). When I came into recovery, I was so surprised and proud at how wonderfully sweet she was that my eyes welled up with tears.

She had popsicles and gatorade and watched Penguins of Madagascar on Nick. She laid down but could never quite fall back asleep. I gave her some new books, including a Barbie Fairytopia sticker & storybook. I read the first few pages (which were horrible, by the way, but she is sick so I'll let the literary massacre slide) to her when it was time to take out her IV, which she watched with intent (though drugged) curiosity. When it was finished, she looked over at my chair, spotted the book and said, "A Barbie book! Is that mine?! Will you read it to me?!" I could not convince her that she had already seen it, or that I had already read some of it to her. She just smiled a goofy, drowsy smile at me, like I was trying to pull one over on her. It still makes me laugh.

When we got home, she was a little (a lot) more whiney and uncomfortable. I think the newness of the things at the hospital kept it all at bay, but at home she realized the full extent of what she was feeling. She had expected to come home ready to jump and run and play, feeling better because the dreaded tonsils were gone. She does not quite understand "recovery time."

Still, the doctor said she did extremely well, and her recovery should be smooth...if we can keep her still!

And if I can survive one more reading of the terrible Barbie book... I think I'll be heading to the used bookstore this week!

Feel better soon, Big Sis!

Song for Sunday: about a night light...

There is no fancy reason for choosing this song. I've just always liked it a lot, even before I knew what the heck they were singing about. It used to be my ringtone before my old phone bit the dust.

And yeah, it is about a bluebird nightlight.

Birdhouse in your Soul
by They Might Be Giants

I'm your only friend
I'm not your only friend
But I'm a little glowing friend
But really I'm not actually your friend
But I am

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

I have a secret to tell
From my electrical well
It's a simple message and
I'm leaving out the whistles and bells
So the room must listen to me
Filibuster vigilantly
My name is blue canary
One note, spelled L-I-T-E
My story's infinite
Like the Longines Symphonette
It doesn't rest

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

I'm your only friend
I'm not your only friend
But I'm a little glowing friend
But really I'm not actually your friend
But I am

There's a picture opposite me
Of my primitive ancestry
Which stood on rocky shores
And kept the beaches shipwreck-free
Though I respect that a lot
I'd be fired if that were my job
After killing Jason off
And countless screaming Argonauts
Bluebird of friendliness
Like guardian angels it's
Always near

Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

While you're at it
Leave the nightlight on
Inside the birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

(Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch) While you're at it
(Who watches over you) Leave the nightlight on
(Make a little birdhouse in your soul) Inside the birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul

Dancing Queen

Big Sister's dance recital was this weekend. She worked all school-year long in her dance lessons to get to this (very brief) moment.


Not that the recital was brief... but her little dance did seem to be over before I knew it. It was very hard to get pictures of her group's number, but I tried.


For the finale, I got really close to try to get some shots of my tiny dancer in action.


At first, Little Sister was really interested in watching the girls dance, even trying to do some of the poses or get up to the stage herself. Then she started getting restless...

Then we all got a little restless. There was a surprise magician...

and trophies and flowers...

and lots of pictures...


and a very late dinner and bedtime for one tired ballerina.

Think about it...

I've want to write a meaningful, thought provoking post.

But I'm feeling stuck.

I have more cute pictures of my kids, but my last three or more posts have been cute pictures of my kids. And although I LOVE my kids and could look at them all day (oh wait, I DO!) I also need to be more than just my childrens' photographer/event-narrator.

I could talk about my recent decluttering and organization efforts. About all of the dustbunnies I have eliminated under beds and at the bottom of closets, all of the things that have made their way into a giant moving box headed to Goodwill, and all of the plans I have for places in my house to tackle next.

Or I could blog once more about discipline and the girls' behavior. I haven't said much since the other day when I shared about Big Sister's smileys. But "no news is good news." Things are going a little better on that front.

The truth is, I want to think deeper and share my heart about something completely unrelated to Mommy-dom.

But I also DON'T want to.

I don't want to think about all of the terrible images I've seen of oil seeping into the beautiful blue water in the gulf and into the wetlands and swamps and little animal homes. I don't want to think of the global impact and eventual ramifications. I definitely don't want to think about the people at BP, moving about as quickly as a bored teenager selling smoothies at the mall as they work to solve this problem- about the greed and deception that allowed this problem to happen in the first place.

Because it makes me feel angry. And helpless. And a little hopeless.

The same thing happens when I read about the continued humanitarian crisis in the Sudan, or listen to a story on NPR about the diminished funding for AIDS organizations in Africa (just as they had started to see some progress!) or hear of a case of child abuse and neglect on the evening news.

I don't want to think about it.

Fortunately (and unfortunately?), most of us don't have to think about it. None of these tragedies are in my back yard (although, come hurricane season, who knows where that oil might end up.) So we change the channel. We read about Al & Tipper (or Sandra & Jesse, or Jon & Kate) instead of Kingston and Gaza. We turn on the ballgame, or we head to the mall, and we pour countless hours and dollars into keeping ourselves blissfully ignorant.

But ignorance isn't really bliss.

Because, to use another trite saying, just because we don't hear choose to ignore the tree in the forest... well, it doesn't mean it didn't fall. And these things that have been troubling me- they affect a lot more than just trees.

So, I don't know about you, but I can't sit still. I can't enjoy my fluffy television or my trashy work of fiction. I can't even post one more darling picture of my children on a fancy inflatable waterslide (today, anyway. I'll do it tomorrow!) Because it's not helping to drown out the echoes of falling timber.

I have think about it. We have to think about it. To think about the devastated wetlands and oil-covered marine life. To imagine the eyes of children looking into their mothers' faces wondering when they might eat again, or worse, watching those mothers die of preventable or even treatable diseases. It's time to get out a big map and remind ourselves of all of the countries facing unrest or genocide or famine.

And to remember that God doesn't distract Himself with ridiculous nonsense. He doesn't even take a nap to escape it all. He is there, among the suffering. He is mourning the loss of His children and His creation. And He is most certainly also mourning the inaction- and especially the apathy- of "His people."

We're not all apathetic. I mean, I do care. That's actually why I don't want to think about it. It breaks my heart and I get so discouraged and want to do something. But what can one little housewife do to stop a massive oil spill or stop AIDS or put a halt to ethnic cleansing? I'd rather think about organizing my linen closet- that is something I can fix! I feel so small, and the problems seem so big.

Of course, God is bigger. But that in itself can get discouraging too. Because, if God can fix it, and if God cares about it, why is it still happening? I start to ask, "Why aren't You doing anything about this?!"

But I get two answers. The first is a question. The same question, actually. Thrown back to me. With the third word uncapitalized and in italics.

The second answer is that God is doing something: mobilizing some of His people. And, even now, He is showing more of His people the hurt and need in the world. He has given them (us) countless resources to help. And He is waiting for us to flesh out that prayer that we recite so often from rote memorization, you know with the part that says:

"Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

Heck, maybe He is just waiting for us to mean it when we pray it.

That's all I'm going to be able to do about any of these huge problems today... pray.

And think. Stop avoiding reality and living in my own little suburban bubble. Remember Christ's passion for the poor and the broken and ask for a heart like His.

Bob Pierce, founder of Samaritan's Purse, is said to be the originator of this prayer: "Lord, break my heart with the things that break yours."

Will you join me in praying this dangerous prayer? That God will break our hearts and move us to action?

In later posts, I'll share some of the small changes my family has made to try to do our part in impacting the big problems. But even Richard Stearns, president of World Vision and the man who wrote the book I reviewed here, says that he can forget about the suffering around him after a few days in the office or at home. It takes a constant, conscious decision to remember the needs of others.

So let's think.

And pray.

Loving it...

The girls are enjoying Little Sister's new birthday goodies. Like these Melissa & Doug stamps:


Little Sis is really loving them.


Sidenote- I'm not sure something is really "washable" if it takes a bubble bath and Mary Kay eye makeup remover to return your toddler to her original state. Ha!