This week we were given a twin bed (gotta love FreeCycle!), so Mara has officially moved out of her toddler bed.

I’ll admit feeling a bit sentimentally nostalgic about my little Mara moving up. But with Carissa learning to roll over and nearly stretching from end to end of the cradle, she really needs the crib (and Mara’s mattress) very soon. So it’s really a matter of practicality.

For Mara, however, this took a little convincing. Initially, she told me she wasn’t old enough for the big bed. “I’m not four yet!” she said, and then she lay down to demonstrate that her feet only went halfway down her toddler bed. So I lay down on the big bed and showed her that my feet only went halfway too. (Occasionally being short comes in handy.)

Ironically, then she began wondering out loud, what she would do when she grew out of her twin bed, and immediately decided, “I guess I will just have to sleep in Mommy and Daddy’s bed when I grow out of this one!”

I assured her it would be a long time, if ever, before she grew out of this bed.

We put the toddler mattress on the floor in front of her bed, just in case she fell off. She didn’t.

We talked about working towards keeping her Easy-Ups dry and going all night. And Friday night she did it. She was so excited Saturday morning when she came in our room and announced, “My Pull-Ups are dry! because I got up and went potty four times!”

I’m proud of her. She’s growing up!

Moving Out?

Over the past few months, Scary Things have appeared in Mara’s room after dark. She never gets out of bed at night to tell us about them, but she will tell us in the morning.

So I will go with her into her room and ask her: “What things in your room are scary?”

“Well,” she’ll begin. “Like this basket.”

“That’s not a scary thing,” I’ll say. “See? Just a basket with some cute little [stuffed] animals in it.”

“Nooooo,” she’ll say (as if I just don’t get it). “They’re not scary now. They turn into scary things!”

But good news! Those scary things may be on their way out! On Monday night she slept in the big girl bed for the first time.

Tuesday morning, she reported: “You know what?! There were NO scary things in my room last night! . . . I think the scary things knowed I had a new bed, so they ran away outside!”

The power of a new bed!

How would you explain that (on a three-year-old level)?

So I begin rambling, hoping something I say will make sense to her on some level and hoping that whatever makes sense to her actually relates to the American Dream.

“Well, first of all, in America you get to choose. You can decide if you want to be a doctor . . .  or a trashman . . . or work on computers . . .” I’m trying to think of professions she can relate to here.

“In some countries you don’t get to choose,” I told her. “They just tell you what you’re going to be. They will say, ‘Mara, you’re going to be a trashman.’” I was hoping that was not the profession she had in mind. “But!–in America, you get to choose. . . ”

Although that was not the end of my American Dream explanation, I stopped, because all of sudden, her whole face lit up.

I thought for sure she had decided to be a princess–or Emily Elizabeth–or Tosta or Donna Eiseland (her imaginary sisters).

But she surprised me: “I get to choose being a mother!” she exclaimed. “I just . . . want to be a mother.”

My heart melted. I wanted to capture for all time this memory: the softness of her sparkling eyes at that moment, her voice full of meaning, and her smile–the sweetest smile. Ever.

I was about to cry, but I held the tears back. (She’s asked me to explain the “happy tears” concept before too.–She doesn’t get it.)

So I just kissed her on the forehead and said, “You made my day, Mara!”

Then she exclaimed again, “Tomorrow I’m going to make Daddy’s day if I tell him that I want to be a mother. I would just LOVE to be a mother! . . . Annnd if you choose to be a trashman? that will make MY day! . . . ” This left me wondering what on earth she thought of my mothering skills, until she changed her mind: “I would like Micah to be the trashman. Micah, do you choose to be a trashman?”

Thankfully he didn’t. He just stared at her blankly, and characteristicly Mara continued, “I would love to be a food-er mom!”

“What’s a food-er mom?” I asked.

“Youuuu know! I would give us food.” She looked a little sheepish because I was laughing. “I would serve us food for dinner! I would be a server-mom!” she kept trying to explain.

By this point I was laughing pretty hard.

————

“I get to choose being a mother! I just want to be a mother.”

Me too, sweetheart. Me too.

And in that moment, I realized–I’m living my American Dream.

We were in my sister’s wedding together–Mara and I. I was the matron of honor. She, the flower girl. For days afterwards, she referred to me as “The Maid of Honor.”

“I would like to sit by The Maid of Honor,” she would say, as if I were The Queen of England. She told everyone she saw–from three-year-old friends to our retired neighbors next door to the pediatrician–that she was “The Flower Girl,” insinuating that she was The One and Only Flower-Girl-Princess, Most Beautiful.

It was the highlight of her little life!

She walked down the aisle with the handsome ringbearer, Connor–who, yes, is precisely airborne in the picture. (Being in the bridal party–and a mother of three preschoolers related to the bride–limited my ability to capture these moments the way I would have liked. I missed a lot of good pictures that day!)

But I wanted to share my few snapshots of The Flower Girl. Special thanks to Grandpa (my dad) for the final snapshot in this sequence!

During the couple’s first dance at the reception, my dad looked at his daughter, the bride. His eyes brimming with tears, he said to me, “She’s all grown up now, isn’t she?”

I nodded, and as I looked down at my little girl, I couldn’t help fast-forwarding 20 years . . .

So early on, I talked to her about God’s love for her and told her that Jesus died for her on the cross. We read Bible stories together most every day, and over the past two months or so, she has asked more and more questions and expressed her desire to go to heaven and be with Jesus. She’s asked me how she can stop doing bad things. She has told me how much she loves God and wants to obey Him. So she and I have recently had many conversations about the foundational truths of the Gospel.

Micah is also a little conversationalist–It’s just that I can’t understand 90% of his jabber yet! Plus his attention span is much shorter. His questions much less complex. In fact, while he often asks to pray (several times throughout the same meal and other random times), I don’t know that He’s ever said ‘God’ or ‘Jesus’ at all. I have often prayed for him, told him how much God loves him, and how I pray that he will grow to be a man that loves God more than anything else. But I don’t think I’ve shared the Gospel with him in a deeper way.

That’s okay–his sister did! The other night at dinner, I just listened to this (one-sided) conversation between my three-year-old daughter and her 20-month-old brother:

“Jesus loves you, Micah, and He died for you on the cross. And we want you to love God and obey God, but you do lots of bad things. But God will still love you, even though you do bad things.”

I don’t know how much (if any) of this Micah was really comprehending, but I was amused that her intensity in conversation was matched by his intensity in expression: his jaw literally hung open as he sat there in his high chair, listening to her soliloquy.

“This is really important, Micah,” she finished.

Up until this point, I sat silently, wondering how she would explain these truths, and marveling at the ease with which she shared them.

Then Mara turned to me: “I told Micah all about God. And I started with the Bible.”

Today the Lord encouraged my heart that perhaps someday He will use my little “disciple” to reach others for Him!  I pray that these truths will be real in Mara’s heart–not just reciting things she’s heard–and that her life (along with her words) will continue to point her younger siblings to Christ!

It seems almost impossible for me (as a mom of a 3yo and 19 month-old) to coordinate (from my “manager’s office” in bed) everything that needs to be happening for this young family. And we are blessed with the best of help.

But life happens. So for now, stuff continually falls through the cracks. I’m desperately trying to be okay with that, for my own sanity, and so my family can stand to live with me.

Which is why I need to be okay with my son wearing his shoes on the wrong feet or wearing a shirt too small, with sleeves that barely reach his elbows, or pants too long that continually drop to the floor. . .

And why I have to be okay with snowy footprints people have tracked in on the hardwoods (I can’t mop) and crumbs all over the dining room floor after lunch (I can’t sweep) and toys everywhere (I’m not supposed to squat or bend down)!

But, despite the fact that in the moment this stuff seems so overwhelming, when I stop to really think, it’s actually rather mundane–not incredibly blog-worthy–just part of bedrest life.

So while I want to say ‘not me,’ I really just need to “Deal!” as my three-year-old tells me.

Last week though, I experienced a genuine “Not Me!” moment. The kids’ baths have been falling through the cracks. This is one I have trouble dealing with. It’s basic toddler hygiene, you know. And one of those things they just can’t do for themselves yet.

One morning, from my bedrest post on the couch, I caught a whiff of my three-year-old daughter and called to my husband (from the living room to the kitchen). “Daniel! Mara stinks—like poop! It’s been six days since the kids have had baths now!” I’m sure my voice was a bit edgy, since I was already annoyed about the whole bath thing. As soon as I said it, I knew I had made a big mistake.

My poor poor child looked completely dejected and deflated, as she spoke in a hushed voice, “I don’t ‘stink–like poop’.”

Then Mara picked up her phone to call her imaginary friend (Tosta) who apparently sleeps on the twin bed in her room, when there are no guests staying with us.

“Hi, Tosta,” she said. “My mom and dad say I ‘stink like poop.’–I don’t ‘stink like poop’! . . . I need your help, Tosta. . .  Please help me. Bye.”

She pressed the button to end the imaginary phone call, glancing at me with hurt in her eyes.

I did not know what to do or say. It was true! I wished I hadn’t said it, but now I couldn’t take it back. So I just hugged her and told her she would have a bath today, and she would smell nice after her bath.

Then I walked into the kitchen and collapsed (crying) in my husband’s arms. . . .

Surely I’m not the mom whose kids went six days without baths.

Surely I’m not the mom who yelled through the house in front of her daughter that she stunk like poop!

Surely my daughter isn’t the one who has to call her imaginary friend for support when Mom insults her . . .

A definite “not me” moment.

My three-year-old, adding a whole new dimension to Mom’s “bedrest”

My 19-month-old son, making a call to Dad

(who–lucky for Mom–is working from home today).

Son needs to explain his missing pants and missing shoe

. . . and how all those Pampers escaped from their box.

For More Wordless Wednesday, hop over to Five Minutes for Mom. And if you’d like some tips for having fun with toddlers while on bedrest, check out my previous post “Doing Fun Things With Mommy on Bedrest.”

After we picked up my sister (“Aunt Mary”) at the airport, Mara burst into the house with more enthusiasm than I can describe, exclaiming, “Daddy! Do you want to meet Mommy’s niece?!?!?!?!”

————

I’m learning that she picks up on a lot of the things I say, and repeats them.  One day, while my family was here, Mara told me: “Today my day is horrible! My house is not cleaned yet. It is horrible!”

Yikes. Maybe I should be re-defining “horrible” for my daughter.

————

Mara’s toys were spread all over the floor, and as she tried to get through, she said, “Excuse me, beads. Can you move along?”

————

Recently Micah has been blowing “raspberries” all the time. For some reason, this really irritates Mara. (She calls it “beeping,” as in ‘Micah keeps beeping at me!’) So while she was on the phone with Daddy (who was at work), she said, “I don’t want Micah to be spitting at me and beeping at me. Micah needs to get a spanking. [There was silence on her father's end of the line]. . . Daddy? . . .  ANSWER me!”

Later in the same conversation: “We are sinners! We have sin in our hearts. . . I am reading the Bible, so don’t talk. . . We need GRACE! Come ONNNNNN!!!!!”

Wow.

————

My dear friend Stephanie gave Mara her book A Pocket for Corduroy. In the front cover she inscribed, “To Mara Joy. From Kathryn Kuchle [Stephanie's daughter, who is a year older than Mara].” Whenever we read, A Pocket for Corduroy, I read the inscription.

Yesterday morning Mara was going around saying “I’mmmm Kathryn Kuchle! . . . Remember the nice lady that gave me Corduroy?” So I told her that actually Kathryn was a little three-year-old girl, almost the same age as Mara.

Ironically, that day’s mail brought the Kuchles’ Christmas picture! So I showed her Kathryn Kuchle and her little brother Tyler. Mara carried the picture around saying, “Look! It’s Kathryn Kuchle!–She’s cuter than me.” And then she would ask random questions, like, “How do you spell ‘Kathryn Kuchle’?”

Then a couple weeks later, I overheard Mara telling Daniel, “See this chair? It’s from Tyler’s mother. And not Kathryn Kuchle’s brother Tyler’s mother. It’s from the Tyler down the street with the father named Bo.” . . . I just had to laugh, because she doesn’t really even know my friend Stephanie, or her daughter Kathryn, but she still includes them in conversation regularly (even more than I do!).

————

Also, this should be obvious, but never tell a toddler about a surprise.

Mara to Aunt Mary: “It’s your birthday! And we have a surprise for you! And we’re going to have CUPcakes!” [It actually wasn't her birthday. We were just going to celebrate while my family was together. So much for the element of "surprise."]

Mara thought for a minute. She is going to be three on Christmas Day, and she equates “birthday” with “Christmas.” So she asked the logical question, since Aunt Mary is clearly old than three: “Will you be four at your birthday on Christmas?”

Having a three-year-old daughter with you when you’re on bedrest isn’t all that bad. (It’s the 19-month-old boy I struggle to keep entertained.)

My daughter is forever running into my bedroom, saying, “Mommy, can we do some fun things together?”

And by “fun things” she is referencing the stack of kids’ stuff next to my bed. In that stack I keep things Mara and I can do together while I lay in my bed. (Unfortunately, I have found nothing that Micah and I can do together to add to the stack.)

We have:

• A feltboard: Aunt Darla gave Mara and Micah FeltTales Busy Day at the Farm Story Board for Christmas. This is a great toy for preschoolers! Mara calls it her “cardboard,” and every day she asks, “Can we play with the cardboard?” She pretends the kids are going apple picking; milking the cow (then feeding the cow its own milk out of the pail!); planting the garden; playing with the other farm animals . . . I think it would be a great “travel” toy too. We may bring it next summer when we drive to Florida for my sister’s wedding.
• Candyland: I got this game at the thrift store for 99 cents, in great condition, and it was one of Mara’s Christmas presents too. She is just barely old enough to play this game. It took her awhile to understand that you have to take the top card off the pile (you can’t go through the pile and pick) and that your goal is getting to the Candy Castle–not drawing cards with candy on them, regardless of how far they set you back.
• Memory: Another Christmas present Mara received, conveniently packaged as a hard plastic “book” that can be stored on a shelf. She does pretty well with this game. (I think all kids have to be reminded they can only turn over two cards on their turn, even if they suddenly remember where the match is.) I’m considering dividing the game in half until she’s a little older, because with 72 cards, the game takes a long time and she’s usually yawning halfway through. We have yet to complete an entire game.
• Little Bear and Dress-up Clothes: She was given a little bear with three outfits: cheerleader, cowboy and angel. She loves dressing and undressing the bear, but she can’t do it all by herself, so it’s perfect for both of us sitting on the bed and whenever she needs help, I’m right there.
• Bible Story Books: Mara considers it a special treat to read Bible stories and sing songs together. So I keep those by the bed too. We are flying through the book right now, because we have so much time for reading right now!
• Charts: Mara practices ABCs (letters and sounds) every day. We usually do Bible stories and charts for the first 20 – 30 minutes of Micah’s nap; then Mara goes down for her nap too. She loves doing “charts.” One day I heard her say, “Daddy! Maybe today I can teach you charts!” and she did. He said she got almost all the letters right, except she sometimes mixes up “U,” “V,” and “W.” Daniel would tease her and say, “‘A’ says ‘Buh-Bear’,” and of course Mara would correct him with the right sounds.
• Stickers/Coloring
• Many, many other books: Reading is probably Mara’s favorite pastime!
• Brain Quest for ages 2-3: I was given Deck 3 by a freecycler. I wish I had the next level (Brain Quest for Threes), because Mara whips right through this one, and I think she will get bored with it after a couple times through it. But she enjoys answering the questions and she has learned several things going through it. We use it as a springboard to discuss new concepts (like beavers, building a campfire, or different kinds of insects).
• Girly Stuff: Once a day Mara gets a squirt of body spray (Bath & Body Works’ Black Raspberry Vanilla), and we lotion our hands and put on chapstick. Mara loves girly stuff!

In just a few short weeks (weeks, not days, right??) Mara’s little sister will be born, and we will not have nearly so much time to spend together. So when Mara says, “Can we do fun things together?” I treasure those times!

And if any readers have ideas of “fun things” a 19-month-old boy would enjoy doing while Mom’s on bedrest, I’m all ears! I would love to spend more one-on-one time with him too before this baby comes.

So, tonight, after I turned out Mara’s light, I said, “Nite-nite, sweetie. I had fun with you today.”

Mara said, “Thank you for playing CandyLand with me! It’s fun doing lots of things when you’re on bedrest.” 

That made my day.

I don’t mind doing her nails, but I’ve been super-busy since mid-November and trying to put off anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary during those few weeks. Besides, if we do her nails all the time, she’ll start to think she always needs to do her nails–and she is still only three. If we don’t do her nails all the time, it will be something special to her, something you can ask for on vacation or on your birthday or on Christmas.

So finally we did it. She was absolutely delighted!

Mara, waiting for nails to dry

Checking out the finished product

And showing them off

Sunday after Christmas, she came home from church with Daddy, saying, “I telled everyone at church and nursery that we painted my fingernails for Christmas!”

I’m sure she did.

We read three books. After we were done, she asked, “Mommy, now can I read a book to the little sister?”

So she re-”read” Just Going to the Dentist to her little sister. She has so many of her books mostly memorized, and only occasionally she would stop and ask, “What does this page say?” I’d give her a few words to trigger the memory.

It was kind of humorous to me that she wanted to read a book on going to the dentist to a baby that’s not even born yet.

But at the same time, it was sooo precious. I wanted to run downstairs and grab my camera so I could remember it always. Of course, I couldn’t, and frankly that would have ruined the moment anyway. So instead I just sat there, taking it in: My three-year-old, red-haired girl sitting there in her brown-with-white-polka-dot-kitty-sleeper, legs crossed, reading a book to her little sister, before she was even born.

It was a special moment.

Tonight I was sitting on the couch after dinner, and Mara asked, “Can I give the little sister a hug?” She threw her arms around my middle and planted a huge kiss on my belly. “I gave her a BIIIIIG hug and I KISSED her!” she exclaimed.

I can tell she’s smitten already. And that makes me really happy.