Hurricanes and Whirlwinds

I spent well over an hour yesterday reading through all my old blog posts. Some made me laugh out loud (duct tape on my cabinets) and some made me tear up (realizing how young all my kids were then, and realizing how much they've grown). Mostly it made me miss writing here. It was an outlet for me, and one that helped me process the daily events of life. So you'll notice I took some time to update the look of the blog. I'm not making promises or resolutions, but I do hope to come here more!

One thing that really made me smile was all the posts about Eva. The "Eva Escapades" ....

{Well isn't this ironic. As I was typing this post, I heard blood-curdling screaming coming from two flights above me. I bolted upstairs, heart thumping, to find Eva, perched on her windowsill, with her middle finger stuck in her window.}

As I was just about to say, Eva has really grown up in the past year. {Haha} Barring the finger-stuck-in-window incident, she really has. Now 4 1/2, she has for the most part left her destructive ways behind. Most days you can find her quietly coloring at the table, or playing with stuffed animals or blocks. Still tenacious, funny, and fearless, yes. But I think the days of Eva Escapades are over.

But never fear....there was a replacement in the ranks.

A towheaded, blue-eyed, melt-your-heart little whirlwind named Jonas.

After surviving Eva, I thought I was prepared. I knew I had been through it and could handle it again, if God saw fit to bless me with another hurricane child. Boy was I WRONG.

This boy has eaten more gum, drawn on more walls with more writing utensils, and detroyed more property in one year than in all the years of Eva. As soon as he was mobile, he was a force to be reckoned with.

*Opened our new laptop, set it on the floor, climbed on top, and rocked back and forth. Needless to say, it's fried.
*Opened the DVD player, stepped on it, and you can figure out what happened next.
*Covered every inch of windowsill in the playroom with crayon, marker, and pen. Along with numerous walls and floors and countertops.
*Covered the dog in honey.
*Spilled more water bottles and sippy cups than can be counted.
*Threw a bag of flour from the counter to the floor.
*Emptied a one gallon jug of water onto my dining room floor.
*Shattered more Christmas ornaments than can be counted.
*Thrown more items from grocery shelves than can be counted.
*Emptied more boxes and bags of food than can be counted.
*Scattered (and ate) a plate of brownies onto the kitchen floor.
*Decorated our cell phones with highlighters and permanent markers.
*Got the Elmo potty seat stuck over his head. Twice.

I'm sure as soon as I publish this post I will think of 5 more. I could fill a book with the things this boy has done!

The only time I can truly rest is when that boy is in his crib. Every other second I am worrying about what is laying on the floor, too close to the edge of the counter, if the doors are shut, if the gate is locked....you get the idea. My entire house is Jonas proofed. And still he manages to find something.

I'm trying really hard to find the spiritual application here. I've thought about this a lot. All I can come up with is that God needed me to have a daily, hourly, minutely, secondly opportunity to practice. Patience. Kindness. Gentleness. To refine me, he needed to submerge me in it. Not just for a moment, but for years in a row. Two children in a row.

I have a family member (who shall remain nameless) who has two beautiful, calm, obedient, quiet children. When we are together, hers are the ones that will be sitting on a blanket, quietly reading books. Mine are the ones yelling at the top of their lungs and throwing crayons and any other object not bolted down. It's so easy for me to compare. It's so easy for me to wonder where I went wrong. It's so easy to wish ....

But wish for what? I wouldn't trade these two spirited children in for anything. I have learned to accept them as they are, and accept myself as their mom. I have come to appreciate the character building God is doing in me, one slow step at a time. Every opportunity to practice patience in this day is another step towards extending it to someone else in the future.

They are not perfect. I am not perfect. And I even see glimmers of what God is building in them. They both grab life with both hands and charge full steam ahead. I love that. They are both so affectionate and cuddly. I love that. They leave no stone unturned (literally) and curiously explore until they've figured it out. I love that. They win hearts with one smile. I love that.

I love them because their mine. Messes and all.