Mama How Come…

IMG_5843.JPGI hear “How come…” at least 423 times a day. I have some how come questions of my own.

How come I can walk across sleeping grass, lava rock and any other sharp and or hard objects but a lego breaks my foot? 

How come legos hurt even worse when you step on them in the dark?

How come I’m always looking for a way to sort/store those blasted things? If you have any brilliant ideas, how come you haven’t sent them my way?

How come there are always 1000 legos strewn across the floor but there is always at least one missing from the set the kids want to build?

How come I have a dog that tries her darnedest to eat legos? You’d think she’d figure out after I don’t know the 200th serving that they aren’t exactly edible. 

How come I seem to be more obsessed with legos than Jack and Bria?

I have four children. Three of them were born overseas. They are well traveled and have been introduced to more culture than I was at 30. How come one of them was recently shocked to hear that part of the population of Britain includes black people? So much for well cultured.

We live in a melting pot. Granted it’s mostly a melting pot of the Pacific. So how come Bria informed me that Martin Luther King was known for teaching people these 3 things. “1. Be nice to people. 2. Feed the homeless. 3. Plant more trees.” How come I’m suddenly wondering what’s in Hawaii’s MLK curriculum? Sounds more like her kumu’s curriculum. 

How come it’s Monday morning and I was up at 4:30? Oh, that’s right I have a 7-year old that refuses to sleep EVER. 

How come I have a 14-year old daughter? How come I was asked yesterday if I’m already having trouble with boys? How come they can’t stay little just a bit longer, like 35 years longer?

How come I can’t seem to find a way to end this post? Well, I guess this is a good a place as any. Have a happy Monday! I’ll be over here napping. 

 

 

 

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How Come

I hear, “Mama how come…?” well, let’s just say hundreds of times a day. I have a few how comes I could like to ask though.

Let’s start with How Come I’m the one sorting these?

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You see where I’ll be all weekend. The real How Come post is coming Monday. If you’re wondering How Come Monday, did I mention I’m organizing Legos? Sigh. Watch where you step! These boogers hurt!

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Sit Down and Think About It

I think writing a post about being like a child must be like praying for patience. You pray for patience, you’re tested until you can prove your patience… 

Things were going swimmingly this morning. We were better than on time. We were EARLY! The calendar is clean. I know what’s happening for the rest of the day. Then I heard something from someone that made my blood boil to the point that I wanted to lash out, at least call them on it. Grandma says, “But Brandi, you just can’t fix stupid.” My response, “no, but I really want to punch it in the face.” Sigh. So much for being like a child. (Audible sigh.)

My friend Christine told me once that maybe I need a private diary instead of a blog. She may have been right but getting things off my chest in such a public way is gratifying. Still, I really have no right to insert my frustration into this particular situation. I thought I’d do a little internet research. That always helps. Right?

I got the answer right off the bat. “Sit down and think about it.”

I might need to sit the puppy at a computer and say “Sit down and blog about it but you get the idea.” I’m feeling better already.

Apparently it’s a common theme.

This one hits a little close to home…

This just made me laugh. Maybe there’s something wrong with me?

Because yes… I’m mean it’s not good to hold onto it right?

 

This could almost make me forget I’m mad. I don’t think I’m this angry.

Okay. So I’m back to the original theory. Sit and think about it… I just changed it to sit and click through memes for 10 minutes. Careful though. There are lots of naughty things on the internet. I really do feel better already.

What do you do when you get mad? ( I also realize prayer is an option. I just needed to calm down first…)

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Like Little Children

Jesus says we should be like the little children. In fact I think it’s Matthew 18:3 that says, “he said, ‘truly I tell you that unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

I am not childlike. Today unless you count the whining, I was no where near childlike.

I currently have this lovely rash.

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Bria is going through a phase. I think she’s been going through it for the past 7 years, give or take. I’ve been calling it a phase. She doesn’t sleep. It doesn’t bother her. She doesn’t seem phased a bit by it. The problem is that if she is awake, I’m also supposed to be awake. Last night was a horrific example. She literally woke me up every 45 minutes. She is worse than most newborns. I should also note that this is a blessing for Ray. It’s God’s way of making sure I don’t ask for more children. It’s currently working.

I woke up barely functioning trying not to be grumpy with my extra chipper children. Trying is the operative word. Just before we needed to go to school my stomach decided that all contents needed to vacate. I ran for Arleigh’s bathroom where there was no toilet paper. Too much information? I’m on a roll! (Pun not intended.)
We’re so going to be late! Everyone is stressed.

We weren’t late…barely. As I pulled into Bria and Jack’s school, I get a text from Hanan. She REALLY needs a green folder. That means a trip back to school.

The tummy troubles didn’t stop. I didn’t go to Bootcamp. Bootcamp is my stress relief. This is my signal that things won’t go well.

Good news! The tummy stopped revolting for me to make it to the school with the green folder and to my dental appointment to rework a cracked filling.

My dentist didn’t have a bite guard. I had to hold my mouth open. It took longer than they thought. You know it’s bad when the dentist says, “We had to go deep. You’re bleeding. I’m going to suggest salt water washes and Tylenol or ibuprofen.” Good times.

Early dismissal at school. Jack didn’t understand his homework. I’m so exhausted. You just keep trudging forward. At some point around this time as the anesthetic is wearing out I realize I’ve bitten my lip. It’s also slightly swollen and bloody. More good times! I am not feeling very childlike only because I’m refraining from throwing a giant fit.

Bedtime is approaching. I’m in that final stretch. Bria and Jack have a bath, get their teeth brushed and Bria’s hair is brushed and braided. We read a story. I ask them to say their prayers.

Bria prays. It’s just like usual, “thank you for my friends. Thank you for my family. Please help Grandma’s arm. Help for the homeless…” It goes on a bit.

Jack starts his prayer, “Thank you for my friends. Thank you for my family.” It goes on. Then he says, “I need help with my Legos. The Toy Story Legos are broken. Pieces are missing. We need to fix it. Can you help me fix it?” He tells a LOOOONG story about his broken Legos. I start to wonder if he even knows what he’s talking about. I’m worrying about how late it’s getting. He finally wraps it up. I’m not childlike.

As I’m tucking my Littles in bed Bria says, “Mama, I love hearing Jack’s prayers. He doesn’t just ask for blessings. He really talks to God!”

I am not childlike. Oh my word I’m not. I was ready to run downstairs and grab a remote or my iPad. I am not childlike at all. Tomorrow I’m really going to try again.

I listed all my very puny problems of the day like they were some sort of excuse for not being childlike. Um no. Jack struggles every day to communicate, to do little things we all take for granted. He gets aggravated just like we all would. Sometimes he gets mad. He still has it in him at the end of the day to say thanks to God like he really means it and to ask about the things he cares most about. Bless his heart. I’m not quite sure where we would be without his example, or Bria’s or Hanan’s or Arleigh’s…

Oh to be childlike!

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A Little Piece of Paradise

I already explained our long weekend. It was definitely a need to find your aloha moment. 

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It’s January. We left on a Sunday afternoon and in 25 minutes we were on the beach. Sigh. This isn’t lost on me. I almost wrote that it was easy to forget the move. It’s easy to forget the list of things we need to do to prepare for the move but I’m always aware that we need to soak up this beautiful island while we still can. 

The kids played.

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We messed around taking pictures.

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It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. The vog kicked this kid’s butt.

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She’s been down for the count the last couple of days. Thankfully she’s headed back to school today. 

One of the best parts of the trip was seeing a Hawaiian monk seal come on shore. The monk seals are endangered. I see them almost every time I’m at White Plains but I’ve never seen one come in. They are fun to watch. It is sort of like watching a giant legless lazy puppy. It never fails to amaze me that people really don’t want to leave them alone. They can be a little aggressive if you bother them. This little guy drew quite a crowd.

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Just a few more pictures of our fun little getaway… (Please note there are fewer pictures of Hanan because she was sick and didn’t want me to take pictures or post them. I don’t want to be yelled at later.)

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