A Fish Tale

Since we moved into our house almost 3 years ago, we have enjoyed so many wonderful things about it, including a very nice-sized fish pond in the back yard. But we have since learned that owning a home, particularly with such an extravagant water feature, means sparing lots more attention than we initially anticipated. So, over the last year especially, we've been having various issues with filters and pumps and the whole system for our pond needing to be replaced. Don't get me wrong, there are several up-sides to having the pond. On warm summer evenings, and even during the day, if we're outside, the soothing sound of running water is definitely a nice background distraction. The fish, which numbered around 25 when we first moved in, are the only pets we own at this point and it is a fun experience to see the different sizes and colors of the fish, bright oranges and shiny blacks flicking their tails as they swim about, their cute little mouths often bobbing at the surface waiting for food to be thrown in. The best part is the mesmerized look my children get whenever their attention happens to fall on the pond and its inhabitants.

But today, I am sad to say, was a rather depressing day as we spent most of the afternoon trying to remedy the biggest issue we've had so far with our beloved pond. Over the past few weeks, we've been noticing the water level receding much faster than natural evaporation would allow. At first, we thought there was a tear in the lining. After weeks of just filling the water level back up and letting it go because of being too busy, my husband decided to work on it yesterday. We went out to Home Depot the night before to get some sort of sealer for the liner to fix what my husband thought was the problem. Yesterday, he drained most of the water in the pond, leaving enough for our fishy friends to comfortably swim around in, and put the sealant on the liner. After a little while, he filled the pond back up, commented on how clean the water was looking - the cleanest it had been in months - patted himself on the back, and went about doing other various yard-related tasks. This morning, however, on his way out to mow one of our properties, he found the pond almost completely drained of water, the poor fish flopping around helplessly. The water was UNDER the liner, making the liner bubble up, creating many trenches and crevices in which later we'd find some of our fish who, sadly, would not make it.

This was a hard lump to swallow for me as a mom. Not because we've been having these issues and I have 10 billion other things needing my attention, or because I felt sad for the fish dying. I mean, I was a little sad, particularly because I felt we should have worked on this issue sooner and maybe they wouldn't have died. But the main reason why I choked on this particular situation while out with our three children today, was because other than a brief mentioning months ago of why my mom's cat was no longer around her house, my children really haven't had any contact with the issue of death. It's a very difficult concept to explain to children age 4 1/2 and under, and I imagine even some older children and adults often stumble over at least the why's of such a serious part of life.

My husband, Joe, kept trying to spell the word 'dead' instead of saying it but my very smart 4 1/2 year old knew exactly what was going on, as soon as she saw the first fish on my pool skimmer being carried away from the pond. Somehow she just understood it was not alive any longer, and not only did that part make me sad but it made me wonder how much of an understanding of this type of thing is naturally within us somewhere, placed there by God's hand as He formed us in our mother's wombs. And how do we lose that ability to understand such things and when? We found about 10 fish in all that were definitely dead by the time Joe got to them. My daughter didn't seem too phased by the idea of the dead fish and thankfully, I didn't really have to explain much. Not very many in-depth questions were asked by her or her 3 year old brother. They innocently accepted the fish's plight, whether they truly understood it or not, and went about watching their daddy continue to try to fix the pond.

We also had 2 fish who didn't seem like they'd make it, one of which I was half-way across the yard with before I noticed it was still breathing (or trying to). But we put them in the buckets where he had placed all the other fish and so far they're doing okay. My husband thinks he figured out the true culprit for the water draining and has returned the fish to their proper home. The kids have moved on from the temporary distraction of the dead fish and our catastrophe with the pond. And I am still trying to discern when exactly it will be that I have to sit down and really explain to my kids that its not only cats and fish that die.

The Princess and the Kiss

I recently fell in love with a new book. Well, I'm not sure how new it is - but it's new to me. While at a Christian homeschool convention a few weekends ago, I was looking for a book to read to my oldest daughter. Angelina loves pretending to be a princess but it's gotten to the point where she has been totally consumed with the "commercialized" princess. I worry about this. She is obsessed with how she looks and she's only 4 1/2. She is constantly dressing up and saying "now I'm beautiful" or "don't I look so pretty?" I try to tell her she is already beautiful and what makes her beautiful is that she has a good heart in which Jesus lives. I don't know - I try to steer her away from all that superficial stuff but it's so hard to fight the constant battle of what the media conveys and what certain members of the family tell her.

Another part that worries me is that she is obsessed with finding her "prince" and kissing him. I found a cute book that detailed other aspects of being a princess but I wasn't sure whether or not it was the right one. Then I came upon this children's book called The Princess and the Kiss (A Story of God's Gift of Purity) by Jennie Bishop. The real message of it might be a little "old" for her but I feel like it's never too early to start ingraining in our children how important purity is. Besides, this book just talks about kissing, which I think is pretty appropriate for this particular issue with Angelina. It is perfect for the early years of our teaching our children about their purity.

The first time I read the book, I didn't really read the whole thing. I was standing at the book cart, leafing through it, trying to skim quickly - and I missed most of it. But I liked the idea of it and thought what I had read was good. So I impulsively bought it. I have to say, I feel like it's one of the best impulse buys I've ever participated in! It wasn't like a last-minute candy bar at the check-out line where the immediate gratification of chocolatey sweetness lasts for only moments and then you're left with no long-term [good] affects. This book feels like something with some weight to it, something that gratifies on so many levels.

Angelina loves reading any stories about princesses. So that was my "in." She wouldn't understand that I want to talk to her about how important her first kiss is or that she should save any of that until she is married. But she does understand princesses, and their search for their prince. The book is written in such a way that it doesn't overwhelm the child with things she may or may not understand. And, the illustrations are beautiful. One of my favorite parts about it is that there is a message, however slight, that she doesn't need a prince. When the princess of the story asks her mother, the queen, if she will ever find a man she can give her kiss to, her mother wisely says "I think God will bring a husband to you. But, if He does not, the kiss will be yours to treasure forever." And that not only reassures the princess that either way, she will not miss out on anything, it also helps her to trust in God more and cherish her kiss even deeper.

This is definitely a book I won't leave out for the kids to play with. I keep it up high, safe away from markers and crayons and page-ripping hands.

The first time I read the entire thing, I was actually reading it to Aidan. I think it's just as important for him as a boy to understand the gift of purity, and the story actually has a man in it who has saved his first kiss as well. As I finished the book this first time, I cried. There is so much to such a simple children's book and I was overwhelmed with its message, because of my own broken past.

As Angel and I read it together, I am hopeful that she'll just know that the message it is conveying is right. That even if she doesn't fully understand now, it will be the start of a seed growing in her heart to always think of her purity as a God-given and priceless gift that should be saved for the man she is to marry. As for her dressing up and pretending to be a princess, I don't find much harm in her pretending a little bit. She looks so cute in her little princess outfits anyway! I just have to allow her the room to use her imagination at the same time as not letting it wander too far. She is my little princess, after all, and part of being her mother is giving her wise advice and a clear direction to get her safely to the arms of her one true Prince - Jesus.

"Love....comes from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith." ~ 1 Timothy 1:5 NIV

Since I've Been Having Babies

Through the pregnancies and births of all my babies,
My hips have widened
My skin has stretched, with permanent marks like tiger stripes strewn across my belly -
which once was flat and flawless
My feet have grown bigger and I imagine if I have a few more babies,
they'll be Flintstone feet for sure
My hair has fallen out and grown back, and is a lot straighter than it used to be
My body itself has evolved from a slender frame with bony edges to a rounder shape of squishy-ness
And I worry constantly about my appearance, where my youth has gone, where my little perky body went..where my mind and energy are

But then I think about how losing all of these paltry things has caused me to gain so much....

Through the pregnancies and births of all my babies,
I have grown wider in my knowledge and understanding of LOVE
My heart has stretched, with permanent marks of my children's lives etched into its center
My world has grown bigger, filled with the limitless possibilities of how life will play out
My fallen life has straightened out into something I never would have imagined
And my body, my mind and my energy are spent holding my children when they cry, unconditionally loving them even when they don't seem to love me and giving them every piece of me that they can possibly have.

There, I've said it....

Over the years, the idea that one should not have more children than one can handle or one can afford, or really just more than one or two in general, has been thrown at me - sometimes very gently, sometimes very rudely, sometimes just in one of those obvious 'I'm grinning-but-behind-it-I-am-thinking-you-are-a-crazy-lunatic' sort of ways... I've had people who I don't even know ask me how many children I'm going to have after they find out I already have my "quota" of two. But it's not one of those curious questions just being asked out of curiosity (which is fine with me), but more like 'I have my own judgment about you and the idea already, and I'm just seeing if I'm right...' It's kind of annoying to me in a way because A)It's no body's business but mine and my husband's and B)It's just rude, no matter who you are, to ask such a personal question in such a condescending manner.

A while ago, someone at a party asked me (upon my telling her I was pregnant with my third), "how many kids DO you want ANYWAY? Major emphasis on the words 'do' and 'anyway.' And this was first preceded by eye rolling and one of those "you really are crazy" looks. Even people within our family have made comments and said things that really were out of line and just downright annoying. Most of the people who I come in contact with have some negative thought on the subject and I am unsure as to where exactly it comes from. Is it taught to them by their parents? Is it society's general view that a family should be made up of 4 people - 2 adults and 2 children (preferably a girl and a boy), filtering into people's minds without their knowledge? I mean, if you think about it, most vacation packages for families only include 2 adults and 2 children in the price.

I never planned on having a big family. When I was younger, I didn't even think in terms of numbers, just that I wanted some kids. I grew up in a family of 7 children and though there are many benefits to having such a large family, I am not sure I ever thought I'd have more than just a few. But this afternoon, as I was sitting at the dining room table, watching my 3 children eat snack, I imagined what it'll be like to have the 4th one - who is due in just a few months - sitting at the table with us. Four children is more than "just a few," especially by today's standards.

After I had my second child, I was unsure about having any more. And even after I had my third, a lot of difficulties I was experiencing brought that uncertainty to the forefront of my mind once again. But just like clock-work, I was pregnant again by the time my baby was 10 months old. The subject for me had kind of just been up in the air. My husband wasn't very positive about the idea of having more then the 3 we had, and we talked a lot about my health issues, his fears, my fears and what we could handle. And really, when it came down to it, nothing was as important as giving the whole thing to God and letting Him have the reigns. We had *sort of* done this already, but I don't think Joe was truly on board with the idea - mainly because he was just so fearful of so many things surrounding it.

I have gone back and forth over this within my own mind and heart over the past year or two. I am very overwhelmed at times, especially since the 3 that I have are age 4 and under and the days are often more than exhausting! I think back to a time when I couldn't really imagine myself being a good mother at all, let alone having more than 1 to care for. But then I look at how well I have adjusted to a different way of thinking, how I am finding things to be not as hard as I had anticipated, and how much meaning each of my children adds to my life. And, even though I fail in some areas, I believe I'm doing a pretty decent job of raising my children and I'm always open to becoming better, to changing and growing and learning for their sake. I also think about the fact that even my husband has come to a place where *more* is not scary to him, without my even really saying much.

We both want what God wants for our lives. We aren't going to be bullied by negative comments from other people, especially people who don't even know what it's like to give their lives to God. And this doesn't mean we're idiots or that we don't know what we're doing. And it doesn't mean we can't plan within the boundaries He has set for us. After our 4th child is born, I need to focus on the health issues I've been experiencing and get all that under control before we think about having a 5th. But the thing is that if God wants us to have a 5th, or even a 6th, if I'm okay and my husband and I are both on the same page, there is no reason not to. There, I've said it - I WILL have more children if I am healthy and God wants me to!

*Oh, and as a side note, my favorite people to get negative comments from are those who have never had children, have only had 1, don't know Jesus, or are so self-absorbed that the idea of having children and parenting them in a decent manner is beyond their comprehension. They're my favorite because it gives me more of a reason to pray for them!*

Thoughts for Mom

Dear Mom,

As I lay here with my daughter asleep across my lap, I am wondering how many times you held me like this and felt what I feel at this perfect moment in time. It's late - the other children are sleeping in their beds, and my little princess is sound asleep in my arms, peaceful and quiet - completely opposite from what she was during the day. Her age and innocence and dependence upon me shows in the softness of her little face, her big blue eyes closed against the night. Her blond hair is slightly matted with salt from her tears, as she awoke in her bed just a bit ago, crying and reaching out for me as traces of whatever terrors haunted her dreams still lingered on the backs of her eyelids. Sleepily, she snuggled in my arms when I went to her and picked her up. Calmly, she rested against me and I soothed her into a more restful sleep with "shooshing" sounds and gentle pats on her slender back.

Momma, I wonder how many times you did this for me, loving me and protecting me from the demons of the night. Helping me back to sleep with your quiet nature and gentle hand. I look at my beautiful little girl and think back to the time I found out I was pregnant with her - a time when it wasn't supposed to be - and how I made you cry when I told you. Do all children disappoint their parents? Will I ache over my children the way you have ached over us through the years? How will I have the strength to be what they need me to be, despite being hurt or angry over things they have done or said?

I think about this little being asleep against me on the couch and I am flooded with the memory of five years ago when she was still inside of me - a tiny baby wrapped in the secret darkness of my womb, growing and changing each day, living and breathing as part of me. I think about how if it were possible, I'd keep all my babies within me for their entire lives, because that's the only way I could protect them completely. Did you feel that way, Momma and if so, how did you get over the painful reality that this is just not possible; that it isn't the way God made things to be?

I wonder about so much - How you felt as a new mom, and as an experienced one. How you captured perfect little moments like this one. How you breathed in our scent as you held us against you, but found the strength to let us go when it was time to anyway. I wonder how I got to be in this place in time, with three babies of my own and another one on the way - a mommy myself, and a wife - trying to make my way through uncharted territory in sometimes wild seas.

And I wonder, will this small and fragile sleeping child cradled in my lap grow up and have babies of her own, feeling and wondering the very same things?

A Future of Hope

If I stop for more than a moment to let my mind wander into thoughts of my children growing up, I am instantly sad. For in that moment flashes a lifetime of disappointments and pain, the chill of a not-so-nice world wrapping itself around my heart. I think about all the hurt and silence, all the rejection and loss, and I am afraid for my children - scared that they too will fall prey to the darkness that seems to have chased me my entire life.

And I don't want that; what mother who truly loves her children would?

I want them to see the other side - the beautiful aspects of life, how amazing people can be, how forgiving (and apologetic) the world sometimes is. I want them to understand early on what took me years and years of wasting time to discover - that they are His children, born for a specific purpose, given gifts and talents to be used for His works. That despite any loneliness they feel inside or pain they endure, despite sadness that might creep into their hearts for no reason at all, He is always there to comfort, to strengthen and sustain; He is there to be everything that the world and their father and I am not.

And this fact helps to bypass that moment which I sometimes drown myself in; it helps me to release the anxiety I feel over their futures, the worry and fear I have for their lives. And it lets me dream for them. And hope. (And fight my own demons which haunt me still.) And it lets me live so that I may allow them to live, not bound in bubble wrap of safety or locked away in towers, but really live so that they can see what I could not, so that they can find themselves in the arms of Jesus every single step of the way.


'For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not fore woe! plans to give you a future full of hope.' ~Jeremiah 29:11 NAB

What's In A Name?

As I make my journey through this (my 4th) pregnancy, I am going back and forth with the names that we have picked out. We wanted to stick with Italian names for the girls, and Irish names for the boys. But the name I have picked out for a girl isn't Italian, though the middle name is (which at first I didn't know). And I am wondering if it matters. I have also taken into consideration, thanks to my sister, that none of these names are saints' names. But does that matter either? And at some point, will my children decide they don't like their names or want to go by their middle name instead of their first? Or a nick-name instead of their given name? Names are important in that they are a major part of our identity - they are one of the first things we learn of ourselves as our mothers and fathers attempt to get our attention as babies, as others come into our lives, as we grow and learn the importance of knowing someone's name as a major part in identifying who they are. But how important is a name, really, and does it actually identify who we are?

Since I've been an adult, I have had the issue of whether or not I should go by Rebecca or Becky. Usually, when I introduce myself to new people, I am Rebecca. It sounds more grown-up and professional and though it seems a bit strange to me for my personality, being known as Rebecca does in fact make me feel more grown up. But as I get to know people, somehow I feel more comfortable allowing them to call me Becky; or often, they are the ones who feel more comfortable. It is more intimate in some ways, to call someone by their nick-name.

When I met my friend, Lisa, almost 2 years ago, I introduced myself as Rebecca. We were meeting on a professional basis and I felt it more appropriate to use my given name as opposed to my nick-name. But as we became friends, she started calling me Becky and I had no issue with that. For me personally, I'd like to be called whatever people feel more comfortable calling me. But does this give me two different identities and is it too confusing? Now, wherever Lisa and I are together, if this issue comes up with others - with what name I go by - it's usually brought up by her. I am perfectly happy going by Rebecca if that's what people know me as or are introduced to me as, but it's always some sort of fluster for a minute...me having to make a decision about what people should call me, etc. And sometimes I feel like maybe it's a character flaw of my own that I am so wishy-washy with what I want. But really, it's not that I don't want to make a decision - I just don't care either way.

My name, Rebecca Ellen, means "captivating light." When I was searching for baby names for each of my last 3 pregnancies, I made it a point to look up what they mean. Angelina means "angel" or "angelic." Aidan means "fiery." Isabella means "consecrated to God." But do most people pick names for their babies based on meaning alone? If so, why would anyone want to name their child something that doesn't have a positive meaning, or one that doesn't make sense? (Such as Phyllis which means "leafy bough" or Tristan which means "tumult") Recently, I had a discussion with two friends about what each of our names mean. My friend Connie remarked that our name-meanings fit us exactly. I wasn't so sure if this were true for me and mine but I thought it was interesting - the idea that maybe sometimes our names are not just randomly picked but placed on our parents' minds by God Himself, in accordance to what His plans are for us. Can I one day be a captivating light? Maybe, based on this idea alone, our names are far more important than anything I could ever dream of, especially when identifying who we are as His children.