tips on eating?

If anybody out there has some advice on toddler eating, please post some comments! It seems the whole transitional time of teaching your child to eat on his/her own is a tough one. Some kids do finger foods well before a year, and then some (like my child) will only feed himself certain things. Most unfamiliar items hit the floor in a matter of seconds. But I know of kids who have struggled to eat meat or veggies, and the rare child who doesn't like fruit. How do you work some of these needed nutrients into their diets? As they become more aware of their environment it is certainly harder to trick them into eating the things they don't want to eat.

One last question--How do you transition them to using a spoon and fork without attracting every ant in the tri-state area (from the mess of course!)? Every child is different, but if your child is eating on his own, then you've accomplished something amazing! Your help will mean a lot to me and at least a few others.

Thanks!!

something more

This article was posted on Cafe Mom, and I wanted to share it with you all, because if you are a mother you have worried at some point (or will in the future) about your child's progress, be it physically, socially etc. Lewis has missed several milestones so far, and in talking with other moms, it seems like we all have fears and struggles, and many will find that their child needs help in one area or another. Some will need a lot of help. It reminds me of a sweet note someone sent after Lewis was born that said, "You are God's perfect provision for this child." Some days it just doesn't feel that way. It feels like someone else might do a much better job. But I know deep down that God specifically gifted us with Lewis and vice-versa. He is what we need as much as we are what he needs. The same is true for you and your children. I hope you find this encouraging, and depending on your emotional state you may need a tissue!

Written by: Lori Borgman Columnist and Speaker

My friend is expecting her first child. People keep asking what she
wants. She smiles demurely, shakes her head and gives the answer
mothers have given throughout the ages of time. She says it doesn't
matter whether it's a boy or a girl. She just wants it to have ten
fingers and ten toes. Of course, that's what she says. That's what
mothers have always said. Mothers lie.

Truth be told, every mother wants a whole lot more. Every mother
wants a perfectly healthy baby with a round head, rosebud lips,
button nose, beautiful eyes and satin skin. Every mother wants a baby
so gorgeous that people will pity the Gerber baby for being flat-out
ugly. Every mother wants a baby that will roll over, sit up and take
those first steps right on schedule (according to the baby
development chart on page 57, column two). Every mother wants a baby
that can see, hear, run, jump and fire neurons by the billions. She
wants a kid that can smack the ball out of the park and do toe points
that are the envy of the entire ballet class. Call it greed if you
want, but we mothers want what we want.

Some mothers get babies with something more. Some mothers get babies
with conditions they can't pronounce, a spine that didn't fuse, a
missing chromosome or a palette that didn't close. Most of those
mothers can remember the time, the place, the shoes they were wearing
and the color of the walls in the small,suffocating room where the
doctor uttered the words that took their breath away. It felt like
recess in the fourth grade when you didn't see the kick ball coming
and it knocked the wind clean out of you.

Some mothers leave the hospital with a healthy bundle, then, months,
even years later, take him in for a routine visit, or schedule her
for a well check, and crash head first into a brick wall as they bear
the brunt of devastating news. It can't be possible! That doesn't run
in our family. Can this really be happening in our lifetime? I am a
woman who watches the Olympics for the sheer thrill of seeing finely
sculpted bodies. It's not a lust thing; it's a wondrous thing. The
athletes appear as specimens without flaw - rippling muscles with
nary an ounce of flab or fat, virtual powerhouses of strength with
lungs and limbs working in perfect harmony. Then the athlete walks
over to a tote bag, rustles through the contents and pulls out an
inhaler.

As I've told my own kids, be it on the way to physical therapy after
a third knee surgery, or on a trip home from an echo cardiogram,
there's no such thing as a perfect body. Everybody will bear
something at some time or another. Maybe the affliction will be
apparent to curious eyes, or maybe it will be unseen, quietly treated
with trips to the doctor, medication or surgery. The health problems
our children have experienced have been minimal and manageable, so I
watch with keen interest and great admiration the mothers of children
with serious disabilities, and wonder how they do it. Frankly,
sometimes you mothers scare me. How you lift that child in and out of
a wheelchair 20 times a day. How you monitor tests, track
medications, regulate diet and serve as the gatekeeper to a hundred
specialists yammering in your ear. I wonder how you endure the
clichés and the platitudes, well-intentioned souls explaining how God
is at work when you've occasionally questioned if God is on strike. I
even wonder how you endure schmaltzy pieces like this one — saluting
you, painting you as hero and saint, when you know you're ordinary.
You snap, you bark, you bite. You didn't volunteer for this. You
didn't jump up and down in the motherhood line yelling, "Choose me,
God! Choose me! I've got what it takes."

You're a woman who doesn't have time to step back and put things in
perspective, so, please, let me do it for you. From where I sit,
you're way ahead of the pack. You've developed the strength of a
draft horse while holding onto the delicacy of a daffodil. You have a
heart that melts like chocolate in a glove box in July, carefully
counter-balanced against the stubbornness of an Ozark mule. You can
be warm and tender one minute, and when circumstances require intense
and aggressive the next. You are the mother, advocate and protector
of a child with a disability. You're a neighbor, a friend, a stranger
I pass at the mall. You're the woman I sit next to at church, my
cousin and my sister-in-law. You're a woman who wanted ten fingers
and ten toes, and got something more.

You're a wonder.

'lil angels attic

Just a friendly reminder to anyone near Bowling Green--Broadway UMC is hosting their semi-annual 'Lil Angels Attic consignment sale this weekend. Regular hours are Friday 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. and Saturday 9 a.m. to 12 noon. Saturday is the half price sale, where many items are reduced. Broadway is located at 1323 Melrose St., 42104.

We've purchased many items the last couple of years including toys, clothes for Lewis, maternity clothes, and even an umbrella stroller for $5. It's worth the trip, especially since a portion of the proceeds go to local children's charities.

faithful bravery!

My sister is close friends with a family with four kids at her church in Evanston, IL. This story was sent from the father via email and it was so adorable, I had to post it. Keep in mind that Emmett is only 6 or 7 years-old. So mature!!

Today Bev needed Cullen's milk cup out of the van. The van was parked across the street from our house. She decided to send Emmett out to get it. Before he went though she told him to make sure that he looked both ways very carefully before he crossed the street. He said, he would. Then he said, "But if I die, mom, just remember; God meant it for good."

my home

"Each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband."--Ephesians 5:33

While visiting my family in Louisville this weekend, I got to go to church with my sister. Her pastor, Dave Stone, gave a sermon called "My Home" and it was all about marriage, obedience and parenting.

The main passage was Ephesians 5:22-6:4. Often women squirm when they hear the word "submit," but in the context of this passage, it seems to fit well into a marriage where the husband loves his wife as Christ loved the church. Christ's love took him to the cross, so we are talking about a sacrificial, self-less love. It has been documented that a man's greatest need is to feel respected, while a woman's is to feel loved. It's interesting that in God's word, wives are commanded to respect their husbands, and men to love their wives. Stone made the point that God created marriage to be the fulfillment of our greatest needs.

Much of the sermon was memorable and convicting for me. The main thing that stuck with me though, is that often in marriage we go into it vowing to be faithful and give 100%, but when things change and it feels like the other person may be holding back, our typical response is to hold back too. This response leads to a cycle where no one gets their needs met. With severely high divorce rates in our country and all over the world, it is important to remember that while our marriage vows were made to our husbands, they were ultimately made to the Lord. Our spouse may not seem worthy of our respect at times, but God always is. Out of obedience to Him, we should do everything within our power (which is God's power anyway!) to keep our covenant with the Lord, and to allow him to meet our needs.

Stone also told a story of sitting in a coffee shop recently, and witnessing the hand-off between a divorced couple sharing custody of their son. It was so sad to imagine how this little boy felt being taken from one parent to the other on a regular basis. It must be difficult for children to comprehend how they fit into life with a broken family. You can't help but wonder if this marriage could have been saved if the husband or wife might have continued to give after the other seemed to stop. Young children certainly add to the stress on marriage, and we need to be patient with each other and continue to love unconditionally, extending grace to our spouse daily!

If you'd like to hear the whole sermon, it is available HERE for listening or viewing. There is a cheesy video skit at the beginning, just to warn you! It makes a decent backdrop for folding laundry or peeling potatoes.

uncertain wealth

"Command those who are rich in this present world not be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment. Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life." -- 1 Timothy 6:17-19

I was reading today about stewardship. It was a chapter about praying for and teaching children how to be good stewards of their time and money. Lewis has a bank account with $50 in it, but so far he has not asked to withdraw any of it! But we know the day is coming, and so it is beneficial to think about it now. This passage in 1 Timothy is a great reminder that God deserves our hope and trust, and not wealth. Still, it was convicting because the way we live often does not reflect this trust in the Lord. It seems like we forget and begin living like wealth is our treasure and goal. But thank God that He is our true treasure. Nothing could be colder than money, and so elusive! God, on the other hand is loving, generous and kind. He deserves our attention and gratitude for all that he has given us.

This whole thing got me thinking about how we will teach Lewis about sharing and tithing, and good stewardship in general. Do you have any suggestions on how to do this well? It doesn't matter how old you are, or how many children you have. Your advice is welcome!

a twist on 1 Corinthians 13

"What Remains"

by Cindy Sigler Dagnan

(taken from Focus on the Family magazine, August 2007)

If I spend my days building skyscrapers with blocks, assembling cool stuff out of LEGOs and creating relationships with other moms at Starbucks (or your local independent coffeehouse)*, but have not love, I am only the siren of the kids' ride-on fire truck, annoyingly stuck on hold.

If I have the gift of knowing which child attempted to flush the Hot Wheels down the toilet and which one pushed her sister, and if I have faith that somehow we'll survive life's emergencies, but have not love, I am nothing.

If I save all my box tops for school and give outgrown clothing to the local shelter, and if I surrender my body to tretch marks and under-eye circles (without the benefit of BOTOX, tanning salons or diet bars), but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient when someone isn't ready to use the big girl potty. It is kind when my husband has a hard day. It doesn't envy my neighbor who drives the new sport utility vehicle I can't afford.

It is not rude, snapping at my spouse or children when things don't go my way. It is not easily angered at perceived or real injustices.

It always protects the smallest, sweetest family confidences; always trusts God to provide my children's needs; always hopes in the freshness of tomorrow and the bright future of family; always perseveres amid hardship and doubt.

Where there are sleepless nights, they shall end. Where there are diapers, Little League and dioramas built from shoeboxes, they will cease. Where there is knowledge of baby care trends, discipline strategies and boy-girl problems, it will pass away.

Now these three remain: faith, lived out in my daily circumstances and instilled in my children; hope, of one day rejoicing with my family in heaven; and love, which covers over a multitude of less-than-perfect moments.

But the greatest of these is love. It is what remains... long after I am gone.

*Added by blog contributor. :)