Life Uncut

The other afternoon, I begrudgingly emerged from my bedroom in a bathing suit- buoyed by the self-talk that dimpled thighs are actually the beauty marks of motherhood. Would you believe that my maternity (jump) suit is plastered with pink elephants. Ironic? I think not.  At that precise moment, I was greeted by Eowyn's exclamation, "Wow, Melissa, you look large!" *Cue fits of laughter from my firstborn.* I couldn't conceal my astonished humiliation, to which she quickly amended, "I am just kidding, Mom. You look really skinny. I'm serious. Really skinny." 

 

Fortunately, Eowyn is proving to be a quick study not only in gracious dishonesty, but also in literacy.  My third trimester (utilitarian) confinement has resulted in rigorous homeschooling and Eowyn is finally joining the land of the literate.  Her world geography is staggeringly impressive and when she learned of Pastor Youcef's imprisonment during our somewhat slanted "Middle East Studies with Melissa", she prayed fervently for his release. And two days later, he was.  This quite literally put Iran on the map. The trade-off however, is that she occasionally refers to her brother as a "terrorist."

 

Meanwhile, Caid is adept in virutally nothing academic. So, while I boast in Eowyn's scholastic progress, full disclosure demands I mention that Kincaid can only identify the color "red".  While I am being honest -he is also still in diapers- which means: (1) I am a colossal failure according to the mother's of his potty-trained peers and (2) It's like a changing the diaper of a grown man that conversates with you about the merits of his diaper rash ointment.

 

In other news, I am one mini-van, sarcasm-less day away from total homeschooling social malaise. In fact, we have instituted two entirely "Duggar-like" incentive programs:

 

(1) Fruit of the Spirit Bucks - Marrying capitalism and spiritual growth, we award "Fruit bucks" for random acts of "self-control" and "goodness" etc... with the enticement of a treasure toy pick after the accruement of at least 7 (the famed Biblical number).  Additionally, since they haven't yet memorized Galatians 5.22, I do take a small creative licensing in including other "character traits" in the fruit buck littany.  Not surprisingly, Eowyn embraces this free market earning opportunity with the blythe enthusiasm of a compliant first-born.  Conversely, Caid generally disavows the entire system with a disgruntled,  "I don't even want a fruit buck."  Oh well- You can't win them all.

 

2) Gratitude Jars:  This behavior modification technique while decried in Shepherding a Child's Heart has been remarkably effective in inspiring lots of insincere (and some genuine) thankfulness in my children.  Maybe I am off the "evangelical reservation" with this one, but losing a "gratitude marble" with every whine has reduced the complaints (and more notably- my personal pill popping).  On the contrary, declarations of appreciation have increased (almost in excess) since those cunning capitalists are learning how to work the system. And really, there are worse things than polite profiteers.

 

And just so there is no false pretense in my parenting prowess- it should be made known that since my last blog post, I have "misplaced" both children in different stores for over 90 seconds at a time, respectively. And on both occasions,  I flirted with the notion of just heading to Starbucks for a pumpkin spice latte. (This is the brand of sarcasm that keeps me on the outs with zealous homeschoolers and frankly, I am okay with that.)

 

This has been my life-uncut.