What We Never Tell You On Social Media About Our Daughter

She cries almost every night when we put her in the crib and leave the room.

We bribe her not to cry by promising she can watch Thomas the next morning if she doesn’t.

At present she is working through separation anxiety and follows us everywhere, even to the toilet.

We tell her not to kick and she kicks.

We tell her not to throw her food and she throws it.

We tell her not to run away and she runs faster.

We tell her we love her and she responds with “I don’t love you.”

Instead of asking for one drink in the morning she often asks for 3, with just the right amount of ice cubes.

She threatens to take her diaper off.

She will often try and touch her own poop.

She won’t peacefully go inside after being out on the swing until the swing has stopped moving completely.

But you know what?

That’s all part of being 2 and working through boundaries. Learning what is acceptable and what isn’t. Learning what is wrong and what is right.

Learning to laugh.

Learning to cry.

Learning to love.

Learning to live.

I know, I know. Everyone likes to post about the funny moments, the touching moments.

The beautiful moments.

The moments you are proud of and want to remember forever.

We never post about the stressful moments because, to put it frankly, who wants to even go on social media when they’re stressed? Or tired…if I’m tired and  have free time, I sleep.

I don’t want you to think I’m a bad parent.

I don’t want you to think my daughter’s a bad kid.

I don’t want you to see the real family behind the social media curtain.

But the truth is, all parents struggle, no kid is perfect, and I’m okay with you knowing we aren’t either. We all need each other and if I’m not open enough to be honest enough about my struggles then how can I ever expect you to be vulnerable.

So here’s to vulnerability, and here’s to parenting.

Here’s to being a father and figuring out as I go.

Because every meltdown, breakdown, throw down is worth it for the prayers, the love, the kindness of E learning to love and discovering just who God created her to be.

A Fathers Heart

I often sing lullabies to my daughter as I put her to sleep.

One of my favourite is an older song from church. It’s by Matt Redman and has a soft beautiful melody.

 

“I have heard so many songs
Listened to a thousand tongues
But there is one
That sounds above them all

The Father’s song
The Father’s love
You sung it over me and for eternity
It’s written on my heart

Heaven’s perfect melody
The Creator’s symphony
You are singing over me
The Father’s song”

Singing this over her as she falls asleep is one of the favourite things in my life. Tonight as I sung it over her a mystery was also solved and it moved my heart.

Heather and I have both noticed that often when we rock and sing her to sleep we can hear her speaking softly but we can’t quite make out what she is saying. This evening I also heard her, so I paused the song and leaned forward, bringing her head towards my ear and she continued to speak, “and daddy, and mummy. And Bobby and Rose…”

It’s a prayer.

She is praying as we rock her. Each night for the last five weeks she has asked us to pray for Mommy, Daddy, Bobby, Rosie and then there are other additions depending on the circumstances. Sometimes it is Zach, other times it is Mammu and Daddu (Her name for my parents.) Tonight it was Ben, Rose’s younger brother.

I am a follower of Jesus and my greatest desire for her life is that she also will be a follower of Jesus. She is much too young to make that life decision but it is a blessing beyond words to know that in moments of her day she chooses His way.

It is a blessing beyond words to know that as I pray and sing over her she is praying for me, and not only me, but Heather and the rest of our extended family.

Thank you for reading.

I had to share.

5 Things the child in me didn’t understand.

Funny blog for the week. I was driving back from Aldi and found myself thinking about the things I was confused by as a child. Here’s 5 of them.

1.How cabs could be handsome?

I think this came about largely because of watching and hearing about Victorian era detectives.

2.Why could pathetic people see the future?

I would hear this sometimes in conversations. People talked about the prophetic…I thought they were saying pathetic.

3. Why were sage herbs also wise people?

Reading fantasy I was always reading about sages. Who knew?

4. Why could the weather help me make decisions?

Just the English language at work here. “I don’t know whether or not I should do this.” I distinctly remember not making head nor tails of this.

5. How could people could cause it to rain on parades?

Another English colloquialism. “Don’t rain on my parade.” They’re only people…they don’t control the weather!

Who Really Knows How To Parent?

I read a fascinating article today.  In summary, it covers parenting decisions over nap time in nordic countries.

The basic premise of the Swedes, “A little fresh air never hurt anyone” happens to be something I heartily agree with.

But I’m sure having toddlers nap in sub freezing temperatures is controversial in America.

Anyone approaching being a parent these days has to face an avalanche of judgment. If  they don’t read it themselves they will surely hear about study after study and book after book of the ‘best way’ to do it.

The reality is that every child is different and every family is different. A baby’s personality and temperament are as unique as you and I.

What I’ve discovered is that routine is important because it breeds safety, but what that routine is can change from baby to baby. How you feed them, change them and put them to sleep is up to you.

Just as along as it works.

What are some things that have worked for you and your children? I would love to hear about them.

It’s 6am And She Won’t Sleep

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Heather had been up half the night, either because of my coughing, or Elianna coughing. At 6am I rolled out of bed, congested, with my wife asking if I could rock Elianna. Sure, I thought, no problem.

We don’t normally have this problem at 6 am. For a few days Elianna had been sick so she needed a little more help calming down when she woke up spluttering from coughs, sneezes and her own congestion.

Let me also be clear – I’m aware 6am is easy compared to 2am, or 3.

As I walked into the room she sat cross legged, one pacifier in her mouth and the other two in her hands. The first trick which came to mind was to lay her back on her side and leave. It didn’t work. So I picked her up and rocked her. She cried for 20 minutes, which is nothing compared to some children, but a lot for this one while she’s being rocked.

It bothered me a little but then she quieted down and I found myself praying softly as her gaze became distant and her eyelids began to droop. This is one of my favorite times and as she gets older they are becoming fewer and further in between.

It made me think back to the first few months when I rocked and bounced her while she screamed and we couldn’t figure out what was upsetting her. Back then I was desperate for Elianna to fall asleep and give the household some rest. I remember waking in the morning barely able to function but I also remember my doctor’s sweet advice. “Value those nights that you’re awake at 2am, before long you’ll look back and realize you shouldn’t have wished them away. They’re precious.”

I remember thinking – they could have been precious if she hadn’t been crying.

Now there is not as much time for prayer as she lies in my arms, or before bed as she drifts to sleep. Already there is not as much reliance on me as a father helping to bring her peace and calm. She’s mostly learned to self soothe and that’s a good thing. My hope is that I made the most of these times and will make most of these times in the future. Even if they are few.

I’m certain my whispered prayers and silent songs have, and will, make a difference.

You Can Go But Be Back Soon

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I’ve been part of many missions trips, and I live the best part of 1 ocean, 1 continent and another half continent away from my parents. I’m used to leaving.

This time is different.

It’s not bad, it’s just different.

There’s something about leaving a 14 month behind that tugs at the heart strings a little more firmly.

Last night I had a dream and I was thankful for it. In the dream I was able to pray first with Heather and then with my daughter. When I awoke I remembered the dreams and the prayers very clearly. I count this a blessing from God. It gave me a lot of peace.

When my daughter awoke this morning she walked out of her bedroom carrying a book. She loves books but rarely does this. The book was entitled “The best daddy of all.” I smiled and said another “thank you” to God.

It led me to a greater understanding of military families. I don’t know how a father can say goodbye for 6 months to serve his country and essentially protect me. If you’re in a military family I thank you. 11 days is difficult enough.

Purpose helps immensely. I’m going to train people who change lives in Kenya. It’s worth while, it’s life changing and I fully believe it’s eternal. Eternal work. Eternally impacting.

I know others travel a lot more than I, but I don’t think this in anyway reduces this feeling I am experiencing of leaving. It’s a good thing. As my friend Bill reminded me on facebook, “They’re the best reasons for you to to be sure to come home safely.”

The words of my pastor have also been in my mind all day. “You’re not the ultimate provider for your family, your heavenly father is.” I believe that, and although I’m sad to go, I’m happy to know it’s only 11 days and my family is in safe hands.

Moments For you

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We have a Facebook group of close friends and family that we share pictures and video’s of Elianna with. These are precious moments of development stages, funny things she does etc. Not everything gets put on there though. Sometimes we’re too late to the camera, or sometimes we just want to sit back and enjoy the moment with Elianna.

Today she was thumping her chest like a gorilla, pirouetting as she watches herself in the gleam of the fireside doors and waving goodbye as she walks down the hallway; no doubt copying what her parents do before they leave the house.

These are times that can’t be re run. They’re ours. Don’t miss out on the moments because you’re too busy trying to capture them.