Category Archives: sisters

Another day, another . . .

I’m not really sure.  Certainly not a dollar.  Um.  Another kiss from a kid?  Another toddler freak-out?

I’m presently watching Ruthie do a toddler dance to the “Easter Bunny Hop” from the Veggie Tales Easter CD.  It’s very hip-hop-ish.  A song by Boyz in the Sink, for those in the know.

. . . . . .

Of course, that was two hours ago.  🙂  I was interrupted and then completely derailed.  Today I am reflecting on the fact that my husband now has two jobs.  The church thing.  And the National Guard thing.  He had about 6 phone calls this morning, all before 11AM.  Some church, some guard.  And this is his day off.  I’m laughing as I write this, be sure to hear it.  But really, I don’t think I’ve thought much about the fact that he now has a second job.  I mean, most of his work is done in one weekend a month, but soldiers can still call him and get in touch with him with questions or requests any day of the week.  So there it is.

Lots of changes around here.  More work for me, more work for him, three kids.  It’s all good.  It’s all very good.

Is it possible that I’m going to have two days in a row with no theologizing coming forth from my fingers?  Yes.  Yes I think it’s happening.  I must be tired.  I’ll go find some pictures I can include here, just for entertainment purposes.  If I can’t make you think, at least I’ll make you smile.

These are some selections from the “photo shoot” I had with Hannah and Ruth back in the fall.  These were their new, coordinating outfits.  Hannah insisted on making it a photo shoot, being quite the model.  Ruthie just wanted to eat her bag of bunnies.  This is just such a fun representation of my two, very different, girls.

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Filed under Hannah, Ruth, silliness, sisters

Funny kids say funny things . . .

I think it’s been a little while since I’ve had a funny kids post. And I’ve had little of significance to write about for the last several days, so I thought I’d write about significant little things. Which, you know, is pretty much the biggest story of my life these days: trying to savor all the little, teeny-tiny, mundane things beautiful life with beautiful little children brings in abundance. Knowing that this stage of life will be gone in a flash, I want to try to not get bogged down in the frustrating junk, the relentless cycle of dirty-clean-dirty-clean, wash-brush-dress-eat-play-eat-play-eat-undress-brush-wash, just-keep-swimming, that is the other big story of my life these days.

So. A moment to pause. And chuckle at my silly kids.

Heard in the kitchen last week: A fly was buzzing around the kitchen, in fact, there were lots of flies buzzing around last week, not sure why, but there we were in the kitchen with a buzzing fly. Hannah says, “Shoo, fly! Shoo!! Shoo!!! . . . I have a shoe!” (scurries over to her cubby and pulls out a bejeweled flip-flop, raises it in attack) “Shoe, fly!! Shoe!” I confess I did stop her from squashing the fly with her shoe on my counter. But I did it with a straight and understanding face.

Heard at the breakfast table this morning: Ruth was eating pancakes (pay-pates) with syrup (see-up).  “I put mine finger in mine nose!  I put mine finger in mine nose!”  (lighthearted response)”Oh, yucky, Ruth.  Don’t put your finger up your nose.  Yuck.”  . . . . minutes pass . . . . (very excited pronouncement) “I hat see-up in mine nose!”  “You have syrup in you nose?!”  ::sneeze:: “Yeeaah!”  ::sneeze::  ::giggle giggle::  Maybe it’s just because I’m her mom, but this one  cracked me up.

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My Girl. Mommy-in-Training.

Lovey dovey Hannah Girlie. She adores her baby sister, has from day one. She has yet to stop her obsessive loving on her, despite Ruth’s tendency to rip Hannah’s hair out by the handful and . . . er . . . ruthlessly** destroy anything Hannah tells her she can’t have. “Well. If I can’t have it, no one can!” Still, Hannah loves on her. Grabbing her around the neck to bring her cheek close so she can kiss it. Pulling Ruth over as she embraces her. Still, after two years, sitting right next to me as I nurse Ruth, rubbing her head, kissing her cheek. Swweeet.

I expend a great deal of each day’s breaths reminding Hannah, “Hannah, you are not Ruth’s mommy. That is not your job. It’s mommy’s job to take care of Ruth like that. It’s your job to enjoy her and play with her and have fun with her.” (Yes, it is on some level her job to take care of her sister; she is her sister’s keeper. But that’s not what needs to be emphasized right now.) Still, Hannah tries to redirect Ruth, tries to “help” her up or down the steps, tries to keep her out of trouble. And my “You are not the Mommy” reminders continue to go unheeded.

But the other day I heard Hannah mothering Ruth in a way that I found beautiful; in a way gave me a glimpse of Hannah as a mother.  It was lunch time and I was working at a feverish pace to make sandwiches for Ruth and Hannah.  I was trying to make them simultaneously so that they’d be finished at the same time and could be presented together so no one was left waiting for hers.  Meanwhile, Ruth is behind me whining and crying and yelling and trying to grab the plate off the counter.  “Dat mine?  Ee want turkey cheese!  Ee ‘ant turkey cheese!!!  Ee hung’y!  Eat!  Turkey cheese!  Turkey cheese!  Dat mine turkey cheese?!”

Holy smokes!  I’m starving to death my own self, blood sugar non-existent, coffee running on empty making me tremble with edginess.  “Ruth! I’m getting it!  Yes, it’s yours, but Mommy has to make it for you! Yes, Ruth! I know you’re hungry!”

Finally, the voice of reason and calm pops up behind me in the form of a sweet four-year-old girl voice:  “Roofie, I know it’s hard to wait.  It’s hard to be patient.  When I was a little girl I had to be patient when I waited and it was hard.  But it’s rude to yell, so you need to be patient and wait.  Mommy will get your sandwich for you.  It’s hard to wait.”

I just stood there smiling.  There’s my girl, reflecting her sister’s big feelings.  It’s hard to wait.  Mommy is making you wait and it’s hard.  Sure Ruth doesn’t necessarily need the lecture on rudeness at the moment, but the mommy-in-training is, after all, only four.  She was just so calm and quiet and still for Ruth.  Both identifying and validating Ruth’s struggle, offering words of encouragement.  Ruth zeroed in on Hannah’s calmness and she herself calmed down and waited a little more patiently.  And patience doesn’t come easily to Ruth.

Sweet sweet Hannah Girlie.  Trying out her grace-filled mommy skills on her sister.  Someday she’s going to be a great mom to her fifteen kids.

**I might petition the greater English speaking community to change the word to “ruthful“. . . .

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Sisters Revisited

Oh my, Hannah and Ruthie are getting so sweet together. Their sisterhood is really blossoming now and it just makes me smile all over the place. Yesterday in the grocery store, Ruth was up in the cart, tired as all get out, and Hannah was standing next to her. Ruth leaned her head over to Hannah, reached her arms around her neck and lay her head on her shoulder. Hannah pat Ruth’s back. Ruth pat Hannah’s back. Then they’d release and return, release and return. Hug after hug after hug. Ruthie reaching out to her big sister for comfort in her exhaustion. Hannah giving sweet words of love. “Aww, I wuv you Roofie. Awww, Roofie, you’re mine best friend.” Oh. My heart. So full. To bursting. Oh that she would be her best friend. As my sister is mine. I love sisters. Did you know that about me?

Sisters, 1974

Sisters, 1974

Sisters, 2008

Sisters, 2008

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Sisters

This morning I was doing my online thing, checking in on my imaginary friends, sipping my cup of coffee (less chocolate more coffee now, purists will be happy to know). In one magic moment I looked up from my computer and saw a precious sight. Hannah and Ruthie were sharing their first mutual hug. They’ve had many encounters that involved Hannah groping, squeezing, squishing, knocking over Ruthie, but this was the first, two-way hug. I was too paralyzed by the cuteness to get a picture of it. Next time they do it, I’ll be ready. But my oh my. Oh they were so sweet. Little 3′ 2″ Hannah and 2′ 6″ Ruthie, locked in an embrace. Ruthie’s head resting on Hannah’s chest, her arms wrapped around her big sister, patting her back. Hannah rubbing Ruthie’s back and grinning with pride. It was wonderful. It went on for a good long while and I just sat and basked in the warm fuzzies.

During the first months of my pregnancy with Ruth, Ryan and I, along with most the rest of the family, were absolutely convinced we were having another boy. We even referred to the baby as Jack Jack (because, obviously, we already had the Super Hero dad and Violet and The Dash, and my arms are really long), and even though we admitted it was possible “Jack Jack” was a girl, we just knew he was a boy. His name was going to be Joel Henry.

Then we had an ultrasound around 19 weeks. And sure ’nuff, it looked like Jack Jack was a girl. We were surprised (who says finding out your baby’s gender via ultrasound ruins the surprise?) and, to be honest, it took me several weeks to adjust to the new vision of our beautiful little baby (and she was beautiful). There was one thought I kept going back to, over and over again. A sister. My sweet sweet Hannah Girlie would have a sister. My sweet sweet born-to-mother, care-giving Hannah Girlie would be a big sister. And I knew she would be as good a big sister as my own has been to me, especially since Hannah and Aunt Worry have so much in common. Hannah the big sister.

I knew that the little girl inside of me was going to be an amazing blessing to Hannah. And I knew that upon her birth she was going to receive an amazing blessing. A sister. Sisters. There is nothing on earth like it. I pray for my girls that they will grow to have as much love and care, concern and friendship for one another as I have had with my big sister. I hope and pray that this first hug I saw today will be one of countless. Even if there are a few bumps, bruises, and broken hearts along the way. I look forward to watching their sisterhood blossom.

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