God's Grace is Real

Before I share the meat of my thoughts on this subject, I want to give some context:

First...
We've slowly discovered over the summer that Emma has illness-related asthma.  This means that when she gets a cold, her lungs react by tightening in the bronchial passage ways.  As a result, all the stuff that gets down into her lungs as a result of a cold has an impossible time getting OUT because the airways are restricted.  We have Albuterol on hand for Emma in two forms: an inhaler and a nebulizer (a cute little panda bear machine).  This medication is only to be taken as-needed, spaced 4 hours, at least, between each dosage.  So far, these two tools have helped Emma greatly through two summer colds.

Second...
I've recently been reading C.S. Lewis' classic Mere Christianity.  Though I've been a Christian for more than 20 years and it has been suggested to me many dozens of times before, I've never read this book before.  As I read now, I am absolutely flabbergasted at both Lewis' understanding and his communication of Christian theology.  The way he presents and discusses difficult, but essential, topics in the Christian faith is incredibly refreshing, encouraging, and freeing!  I have been especially impacted by the chapter in which Lewis discusses Time (Book 4, I think).  I couldn't possibly relate that information here in any way that would do it justice, so...just read the book.  Seriously.  It's very good stuff.  Just keep in mind as you read on that this is what is bouncing around in my head, heart, and spirit as we found ourselves in an urgent medical situation last night with Emma.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Emma has picked up another cold.  The germs could have come from any number of settings and any number of other children.  The source of the cold is not terribly important to me.  What is, however, of great importance is the fact that colds are not a simple affair for Emma.  She develops asthma when she is sick, which complicates her medical situation very rapidly.

The cold symptoms began for Emma on Friday morning: drippy nose led to post-nasal drip which led to coughing.  She did okay on Friday, but we did have a busy day with grocery shopping and other household chores.  Friday night she slept poorly because she was waking up coughing or so stuffed she was having trouble breathing well enough to sleep.  I also had a bad night.  Not just because of Emma, but because even after Emma settled down into good sleep, I was wired and didn't fall asleep until close to 2 a.m.  This did not bode well for either of us for our planned zoo trip on Saturday.

Emma woke up Saturday seeming much better.  We were in a hurry to get to the zoo (with my sister and her family, who were visiting after long-last from Springfield), so I didn't take the time for a full nebulizer treatment for Emma.  Additionally, she didn't get her morning nap, so by the time we got to the zoo, she wasn't really in a great state of well-being.  We figured, however, that she would be somewhat stationary for this trip (riding in the pack on Daddy's back), so she would be okay.  Before going into the zoo, I gave her an inhaler dose of her medication and we set off.

Emma continually coughed (light, but persistent) throughout our trip.  Around and after lunch, she seemed downright miserable and exhausted.  She was having a little more trouble breathing, so I went ahead with another dose on the inhaler, even though it hadn't yet been 4 hours.  This helped a little and she feel asleep on my back for a little while, but she was still a very unhappy baby.

After a quick trip to Abby's favorite animals, the elephants and the giraffes, we bid our farewells to my sister, brother-in-law, and nieces and headed for home.  On the way home, I called the advice nurse via Emma's pediatrician's office.  Based on my conversation with her, we went ahead with a nebulizer treatment for Emma when we got home, even though it wasn't yet 4 hours since the inhaler.  This seemed to help Emma relax and we put both girls down for naps.  Emma slept...sort of...but not well.  (I got some sleep, too, which was very good, because Emma's continued coughing was turning me into a tearful mess in my exhausted, worried state.)

Emma woke from her nap cheerful, breathing somewhat better, and playful.  But as she played, her breathing became again more rapid than I thought healthy and her tummy seemed to be working awfully hard to keep the air going in and out of her lungs.  (I was to understand later that what I was observing was, in fact, retraction...which is bad and a sign of distressed breathing and the need for medical support.)  I called the advice nurse again and she told me what to watch for: rapid breathing (check), bluish-white hue around her mouth and nose (not so much), and retraction (check).  She was two for three.

At 6:30, Emma and I were in the car (which was low on gas) and on our way to the 24/7 Urgent Care clinic at PeaceHealth in downtown Vancouver.  I was beginning to feel fearful and emotionally exhausted, and dreaded another "ER" type visit.  I am so grateful for how the Holy Spirit got my attention and reminded me to pray.  I had put in our "Hidden in My Heart" lullaby CD as we drove, and the song for Philippians 4:6-7 came on.

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With the lullaby playing in the background, I began to pray as I drove...

Lord, You created Emma and you knew at her conception that her lungs wouldn't be just right.  You have been with every parent of a child who is suffering throughout history and in the present and I know You are with us now.  You know what Emma needs.  Please be with me and help me to be strong and brave and calm.  Help us to be good patients and to have the grace we need for each moment of our journey tonight.  Help us feel Your Presence.

From that moment on -- miraculous -- I felt a wonderful, blessed peace over us.  Emma was calm and even somewhat chipper.  I knew that, whatever happened, I could trust God with the process and the results.

Emma and I arrived at the 24-hour urgent care clinic at 7:00 pm and were in a room by 7:15.  This was the first blessing.  Because of her age, her history, and her breathing pattern, they got us in quickly.  We immediately had two nurses tending us.  They were lovely women, very gentle and caring, very thorough and confident in their initial analysis of Emma's medical needs.  The nurse found Emma's temperature was up to 101 and her o-sat (oxygen saturation) level was down to 92% (which is low for a healthy infant).  After this initial assessment, it was mere minutes until the "provider" (doctor) was with us.  After observing Emma's breathing behaviors and listening to her lungs, the doctor quickly sent for assistants who would set Emma up with a nebulizer treatment of two asthma medications AND oxygen.  The assistants were there with the oxygen tank, neb mask, and meds almost before I could blink.  Emma was receiving the support she needed and her body immediately showed improvement.

Emma took this all like a champion, even the nurse finding her temperature in the MOST personally intrusive and uncomfortable manner.  Emma doesn't much like the nebulizer, but she's become really patient with the mask and tubes and vapor blowing in her face.  I was so proud of her and so thankful for this working of God's grace in our situation.

The hospital which houses this urgent care clinic does not, to my understanding, house a pediatric unit.  Therefore, in order for Emma to get the best care, the doctor felt it best for Emma to be transported to an ER in the area with doctors who would know better how to care for a pediatric patient with breathing trouble.  To my surprise, this was not as simple as my putting Emma back in the car and driving to the suggested hospital.  Rather, the doctor wanted us to go by ambulance, so that Emma's status could be monitored throughout the journey.

I ran out to the van to grab the car seat while the nurses held Emma and the medics prepared the ambulance to transport her to Randall Children's Hospital in Portland.  The medics were very kind and gentle and competent in their tasks.  However, the medic attending to Emma told me that he wanted to fit Emma with an IV before we headed off.  I think this is standard procedure.  I was none too thrilled to hear this bit of news.  I've had my own trouble with IVs and I just really, really didn't want to have Emma go through that.  But I steeled myself for the task ahead and continued to pray.  God had faithfully surrounded us with His grace so far, so I had no reason to doubt His continued help for the steps ahead.

After settling Emma and I in to the ambulance, the medic said, "I'm going to see if I can find a clear, easy shot for the IV.  If I can't, we won't try.  We'll just wait until we get to Randall."

I have never been more thankful for my body's tendency towards tricky veins!  I'm pretty sure Emma has inherited a lot of my physical characteristics because, thanks be to God, the medic could NOT find that easy shot.  So, he gave up on the IV and we headed out for Randall.

Along the way to the ER, Emma was still on Oxygen and her O-sats were up to 100%.  It was a short, easy journey and we were settled in at the Randall ER before 9:00 pm.  The nurses and providers at Randall were wonderful.  So kind and gentle and quiet and calm.  I told the doctor later that it felt like 5-star medical care.  I was amazed at their efficiency!  Yet they did everything calmly and used quiet voices and took such care with Emma and myself.  Such a contrast to our previous experience at a hospital ER in a small city elsewhere in Oregon.  (I don't wish to criticize that ER staff too much, because we were in a small city and they were not pediatric specialists.)

The doctor was in to see us very quickly.  He determined to give Emma a steroid tablet (in order to calm the inflammation in her lungs) and wanted to observe her for another hour or so before deciding if she needed to be admitted.  There was no further talk of IVs or blood draws or chest X-rays.  Her lungs, at this point, were free of wheezing and the doctor heard no indication of pneumonia.  Praise the Lord!

By 10:00, the doctor had determined that it was more than safe to send Emma home, with a 5-day Rx for steroids and a plan for us to follow-up with Emma's doctor on Monday.  Emma, by this point, was sleeping soundly on the hospital bed, breathing easily and so at peace.  I almost hated to disturb her to go home, but I was also so thankful for the good news and positive outcome of the evening.  By 10:30 we were packed up in a cab and headed back to the van, which was still parked at the hospital in downtown Vancouver.  God even demonstrated His grace in our cab ride, in that I felt confident to direct our cabbie back to the van, rather than taking us home.  If we had gone home, instead, we would have had another $20 or so on our cab bill and would have had to figure out how to get back to our van, and Abigail's car seat, on Sunday.

Emma and I were home, and she was settled peacefully in bed, by 11:15 pm.  I guess 5 hours probably sounds like a long time, but -- truthfully -- it didn't feel long as we experienced it.  There no long, drawn-out waits to be seen by a provider or to receive the prescribed treatment.  The cab even arrived at the hospital in only 10 or 15 minutes, instead of the predicted 25.  Every person who attended us was kind, gentle, caring, calm, and confident (without being arrogant) in what they were doing to support Emma.  We got home "early" enough to get a full-night's rest.

As I drove home from the hospital, I was reflecting on our evening and became overwhelmed with gratitude for our experience.

God made His Grace tangible for us, throughout our evening.

Now, I don't know why He chose to show His grace in our having a smooth, relatively easy evening with a very positive outcome.  I know there are parents still sitting at their suffering child's bedside, wondering if their child will survive another day.  I can't fathom their pain and anxiety.  But this I know: God is showing His grace even to them.

God lives outside of the construct of time, so He exists in the past, present, and future all at the same time.  To Him, these long nights of suffering are but a blink...less than a moment in the setting of eternity.  He has, ultimately, shown His Grace by providing for our eternity with Him: His Son Jesus.  When our future with Him is settled by our acceptance of that Grace, then everything in this life gets put into a new perspective.

A suffering child is no laughing matter and nothing to glaze over with biblical platitudes.  My understanding of God's supremacy over time, His sovereignty over our history and future, and His great love for us -- understandings recently driven deeper by the ideas CS Lewis writes about in his book -- carried me, with hope and confidence in God, throughout our ordeal.  I ended the evening feeling this verse to be true, even for me, in a very real way...

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Out of Egypt

Yesterday morning my husband kindly took full charge of the girls so that I could get ready for church.  I got my hair cut Saturday so, naturally,  I wanted to take a little extra time to make it fabulous.  Of course, with fabulous hair I must have make-up, so I was taking even a little more time in front of the mirror than usual.

It was as I was standing in front of the mirror that I began reflecting back over last week.  Last week was difficult, particularly for me and the girls.  We had guests clear up until we went to bed on Monday night and it had been a very full, very fun weekend.  Thus, we were all a bit spent and overstimulated.  Compound this emotional drain with the fact that Tuesday marked the FIRST "day-after-Labor-day" in 8 years that I was not returning to a classroom at MMS to prepare and/or welcome students for their first day of school.

In reflecting on the fact that I was NOT having to get up early that day to go to school, I began to think about what I miss about this week of the school year as a public school teacher.  I thought about my crazy, fun colleagues.  I thought about all the new teachers at MMS this year and felt my heart break a bit at not being there to watch them grow as teachers and at not being able to help, encourage, and support them in their first year of teaching.  I thought about my 7th graders from last year, who are now the "top-dog" 8th graders and wished that I could be there to see them in the halls and ask how their summers were.  A few particular students came to mind and my heart ached a little at not being able to know how they are and that I don't even have the RIGHT to know how they are anymore (no longer being a GAPS employee).  I thought about the delightful predictability of the bell schedule.  I thought about the feeling of control I had over my little classroom kingdom and how nice it was to have a room that was entirely my domain and how I got to set the rules for how things went in that classroom.  I thought about The Binder: the one that sat on my desk and contained the district's pacing guide for the math standards I was to teach between September and June.  I actually, for a few days (I'm quite sad to admit) MISSED that binder, with the irony being how often I had loathed that binder for making me feel inadequate to the task of teaching.  I missed my principal, to whom I could -- and often did -- run whenever I had a classroom conundrum I couldn't work out on my own.  He had many more years experience as a teacher and with students than I had, so he almost always had very helpful advice for me in solving classroom problems.  He was also very patient with my faults and (more frequently than I'd like to confess) kindly, but sternly, redirected me when I was out of line.

Long story short, I missed all the FUN, WONDERFUL, FANTASTIC things about the first week of the school year.

In my "new" life, I'm a Domestic Administrator.  Well, that's what I like to call myself.  I have a great amount of responsibility as the keeper of our home.  Meal planning, shopping, cleaning, organizing, training a preschooler and a toddler, supporting my husband, planning and executing learning experiences and activities for my girls... The list goes on.  I've been feeling somewhat like a spinning top at home.  I needed someone to stop me and help me get back on track, but I didn't realize how badly I was spinning.  I just felt incompetent and overwhelmed at the weight of responsibility riding on me as wife, mother, and home-maker.

In my feelings of discontent in my CURRENT life, my gaze turned to the past...my life as a middle school teacher.  As the saying goes, the grass in my past looked MUCH greener than my current pasture.  The more I thought I about what happens at MMS during the first week of the school year -- the more I allowed myself to dwell on all that I miss -- the more DISCONTENT I became with our present circumstances.  My present is, in SOME respects, unfamiliar and uncomfortable in its unfamiliarity, so I yearned for what was.  And in yearning for what was, I began to be like the foolish woman of whom Solomon spoke in Proverbs 14:1...

The more I dwelt on the past, what used to be, the MORE discontent I became with the present (although I would have said how thankful I really am for our present situation in life and that it was perfectly normal and natural for me to feel morose, just for a little while, that I'm not a classroom teacher anymore).  In my discontent, I got edgy and cranky and snippy with the girls and, admittedly, with my husband.  In response to my foul mood, the girls' moods turned just as foul and we ended up butting heads for the middle part of the week.  It was a LONG three days.  This frightful storm of female discontent and frustration only increased my feelings of fear and inadequacy and I slipped deeper towards depression.  And, like the foolish woman of Proverbs 14:1, it was MY fault.  I was tearing down my own house with my discontent.

I find it perfectly awful when I know that I'm the cause of an emotional or relational storm and that I'm the one who needs to change if the storm is to pass.  This did not help my mood.

Thankfully the Holy Spirit got my attention by Wednesday night (although Thursday was still a tough day) and my thoughts began to shift.  I won't explain here all that David and I discussed on Wednesday and Thursday evening, except to say that BOTH conversations were hugely therapeutic for me and I began Friday morning with a much better outlook on things.  I decided to cut some things out of my life in order to be able to focus more on my job at home.  I committed to bringing back in that which I had been skimping on, namely, true and honest Bible study and prayer EVERY morning.  I am happy to say that the Lord met me in my deep, dark place and, by His Spirit, brought me out of the funk and set my feet firmly back on the path He has marked out for me.  That whole process is a story unto itself, so I'll just suffice to say, Praise the Lord for being present in the midst our troubles and quick to answer us when we cry out to Him in our distress!

Okay, so what does this have to do with Egypt?

It was as I was lingering in front of my bathroom mirror on Sunday morning that my thoughts clearly fixed on the story of the Israelites as they came out of Egypt.  How many times in the years between the Exodus and the taking of the Promised Land did they grumble to Moses and to God about their new circumstances?  Here God had freed them from SLAVERY in Egypt, from the murder of their children, from the abuse by their overseers.  Here was God leading them into a land flowing with milk and honey, the land that was to be their inheritance, to be enjoyed by the people coming out of Egypt and all their descendants after them.  And YET, they had the short-sighted audacity to look longingly over their shoulder and pine for their life as slaves in Egypt.  They thought only about the good things in Egypt, namely, the food.  And they grumbled at their new circumstances.

Let's look for a moment, shall we, at their new circumstances: yes, they were in a dessert.  BUT...they were being led by God Himself, who traveled with them as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.  He provided for all of their needs.  He was leading them to, as I said, a land flowing with milk and honey...paradise!  A land that would be their OWN.  He was protecting and defending them with His very own Presence.

And they longingly looked over their shoulders at slavery in Egypt and pined to return.

As I was recalling what I know of the history of God's people, He very clearly showed me how I was being like them.  God, in His infinite wisdom and grace, has allowed the Haga-bears everything we've worked for and wanted up to this point in our marriage: David's job, our new house, I get to BE A FULL-TIME HOMEMAKER AND MOM, and much more.  It's MY new job that I want to focus on here.  I've been asking, praying, begging, PINING to be a full-time mom to my girls for all the years they've been alive.  Now, here I am in the midst of it and I'm realizing what a big job it is and I'm looking over my shoulder and yearning (BLECH!) for the "ease" (really just familiarity) of slavery to a classroom.

WHAT??!!

Wow.  That sure got my attention.  And I am SO very thankful to God for putting my actions in perspective the way He did for me, especially just before worship and communion.  As I start a new week in my home, with my precious girls and my very loving husband, I am praising HIM for His goodness to us and seeking HIM for the strength, grace, perseverance, diligence, wisdom, discernment, and patience to do my NEW job...for His glory, for the good of my family, and for my own good, too.

I need not fear the enormity of my new job, for...

"His divine power has granted to ME all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who called ME  to His own glory and excellence..."  (1 Peter 1:3, ESV)

I hope this encourages another woman out there to value and appreciate where she is RIGHT NOW and to know that her hope is in the Lord, for He has PROMISED that where He guides, He will also, ALWAYS, provide!

Haga-House Inn is Ready for Guests!

We are excited to announce that the Haga-House Inn is ready for guests!  The inn features a queen bed and a full bed, as well as a love seat with a pull-out bed.  Guests will appreciate their own front entrance, back patio, and fully-equipped bathroom.  Contact us soon to arrange your visit!

  

 

Reflections

Today's post is really nothing more than my attempt to put down "on paper" what's been rumbling around in my brain as I experience this "home-working" lifestyle.  This will likely be a series of posts because each idea takes some development.  I'm going to attempt the write without worrying about wittiness, eloquence or perfection.  I just want to write what's in my heart and on my mind. 

Reflection #1:  Perfection is NOT the aim.  Relationship IS.

So, I'll admit it: I'm a perfectionist.  I have a large catalog of magazine photo spreads (you know, of houses and recipes and perfectly-dressed children), Pinterest posts, etc. in my brain.  Every time I do something with my husband, my children, or my house, my brain automatically compares what's going on in my reality at that moment with the standard of perfection represented by the pictures in my memory bank.  When the two don't match, warning bells go off in my perfectionist mind..."WARNING!! WARNING!! THIS DOES NOT MATCH THAT STANDARD OF PERFECTION, THEREFORE IT'S NOT RIGHT, PRODUCTIVE, OR FUN!!!"

I'll give you an example.  I downloaded (from a Pinterest link) number mats to use with play dough to practice number recognition with A during preschool.  Here's the Pinterest picture:

(Found HERE)

I was totally okay with not having PINK play dough for this activity with A.  As we began with the mat for the number 1, I realized, "Oh,  I have to teach A how to make a play dough snake!"  This I didn't think about ahead of time, but that was okay.  We rolled a few snakes and I started noticing myself wanting to do it FOR her, because my snakes were so much more smooth and consistent than hers.  We did the mat practice for 1 and 2 and then moved on to 3.  When we got to the point of making a number 3 with play dough, A did not use the snake to make a nice, curvy number 3.  Instead, she started breaking off bits of the snake and lining them up next to each other inside the outline of 3 on her mat.

That's when the perfectionist warning bells went off in my brain.  A was NOT creating a 3 that looked like it "should."  Her mat did NOT look like the picture on Pinterest.

I could feel my anxiety level beginning to rise.

Thankfully, I felt the Holy Spirit move into this moment:

HOLD ON, MAMA!  The whole purpose of this activity is for A to LEARN, right?

Uhm, yes.

Did she fill in the outline of the number 3 in a way that resembles the shape of the numeral?

Yes, again.

Is she demonstrating creativity, problem-solving, and an interest in learning in this process?

Yes.  Yes, she is.

THAN QUIT FREAKING OUT, WOMAN!  Relax and enjoy this time to bond and LEARN with your daughter!  You need this as much as she does.

Okay, so I don't think the Spirit yelled at me, but I did get the message loud and clear.

If I were to harp on A about not doing things exactly the way the Pinterest post author said she did it with HER child, I would be ruining the quality time that MY daughter and I were having right then.  There is nothing morally wrong about A lining up bits of dough to create her 3, rather than using a dough snake.  It's a developmental thing, not an issue of character or sin or any such high-stakes matter.  In point of fact, my daughter was using creativity and problem-solving to accomplish the task I placed in front of her to do.  These are qualities to be encouraged and commended (so long as her creativity and problem-solving do not include methods that are sinful, e.g., "I want a cookie, so I'm going to solve my problem of a lack of cookie by stealing one from the jar when Mommy isn't looking").

I'm so very thankful that the Lord chose that moment to speak into my circumstances.  My time with A that day was sweet and educationally productive BECAUSE I relaxed and let go of the idea of being "picture perfect" with our activity.

This happened last week, on Thursday or Friday, and I cannot count the number of times since then that the Spirit has pointed out to me when I was doing it AGAIN...feeling anxious because our reality didn't match the perfect pictures stored in my brain.  I'm talking about petty, insignificant things.  The pillows on the couch not placed exactly right.  Or how about this?  A is learning to make her own bed in the morning.  When I make her bed, it looks like a show-room bed. (Because I can't rest if it doesn't look that way when I'm done with it!)  When A makes her bed, it's made but it's rough.  She is, after all, only 3-1/2 and JUST LEARNING!  So, I could douse her enthusiasm in learning these new skills by always correcting her work, OR I could let it be and realize that, in time, her bed will look more and more tidy because she will gain more and more knowledge and skills.  The point of learning to make her bed is NOT that we get a beautifully-made, picture-perfect bed.  The whole POINT of her learning to make her own bed is learning to be responsible for herself, to faithfully steward what she's been given, and to take joy and pride in her work.  What kind of mother would I be if I dumped the cold water of criticism all over her young efforts at learning SIMPLY because her efforts do not match the perfect picture in MY head?  Not a loving mother, that's for sure!

As I write this, I'm seeing another lesson I believe the Lord wants me to learn.  If the magazine pictures, etc., are NOT my standard of perfection, WHO or WHAT is?  I mean, there IS a standard out there.  We don't live in a moral void.  But what is the standard and who created it?

Well, if you're a Christian, then I know you'll agree with me on that answer to that question:

Jesus.

Jesus is my standard and the Word of God tells me how to live by the standard God sets.  The plain fact of the matter is that I cannot, in my own efforts, meet God's standard.  And since I can't meet that standard on my own, He sent Jesus to meet it for me, with His death on the cross and His resurrection from the grave.  I am SO thankful right now for His sacrifice and even more thankful that He called me to Himself so that I may know Him and live in HIS strength.  Because having Jesus in my heart does not just help me meet the standard that allows me to live in heaven for eternity with God (which is an amazing and wonderful truth on its own).  Having Jesus in my heart means also that I don't have to navigate the murky, rough waters of life on my own between now and eternity.  He lives in me and so does His Strength.  When I turn to Him in humility and call on Him in my weakness, He empowers me to do what He has called me to do, whether it be the small things (e.g., laying aside FB time in order to spend quality time with my children) or in great things (e.g., speaking the truth in love when someone has hurt me or is about to hurt themselves).  

I'll leave off with some verses that come to mind as I reflect on perfectionism:

"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God."  ~Romans 3:23

"For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord." ~Romans 6:23

"His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of Him who called us by His own glory and goodness." ~ 2 Peter 1:3

If you are a Believer, I hope today that you may be encouraged to set your eyes and your heart on Jesus as your standard of perfection.  I pray that we may learn to seek His approval over the approval of man, or even the approval of our own selves (as we are sometimes our own harshest critics).

The Mommy Time Fun Box

I'm in the process of transitioning my role in society from middle-school math teacher to full-time Mama and Manager of our home.  I'm reading several books for inspiration and ideas on how to make the most out of my role and my time with our girls, A (3-1/2) and E (1).  As a result of my reading, easy access to the Learning Palace, and the generous gifts from a friend (also a home-schooling mom), I've created the...

Mommy Time Fun Box

Here's a little more information, for those who are interested, on what it is and how I plan to use it.

Inspiration:

Terry Maxwell in the book "Managers of their Homes."  Specifically Terry's mentions of "pre-school" time with her little kids.  I decided I needed activities that were productive AND fun and something A (especially) would look forward very much to doing, tossing in the element of quality time with Mommy.  A will NOT be allowed to use any of those resources shown during other play times, at least at this point.  These are items and activities that require supervision and adult support.  It may be that, down the road, A will be able to use some of these items for special quality time with E (e.g., doing letter/number flash cards with her), but NOT YET.

How/When I will use it:

Part of my daily schedule will be special one-on-one time with A and E.  During A's Mommy Time, she'll get to choose an activity category from the cards I made.  Each category has a few different choices within it, so the number of "new" things to do during Mommy Time is pretty huge.  I'm sure she'll have favorite activities, but this box SHOULD keep us busy for some weeks.

Contents (supplies):

• Flashcards: alphabet match flash cards (match the capital to the lowercase), number identification, telling time
• Workbooks: Pre-K from Costco (a variety of topics), sticker books
• Play dough
• finger paints and finger paint paper
• pip-squeaks markers (just 'cause their cute and easy for her to handle!)
• "sewing" cards and string (cards can also be used as tracing templates)
• glue, scissors, and (eventually) other general craft supplies
• "splash jack" cards and, eventually, other tot-friendly games
• (eventually) special read-aloud/picture book

Categories/Activities:

• "Reading": Letter practice (play dough, flash cards, work books, finger paints) or Read-Aloud
• "Math": number practice (play dough, flash cards, work books, finger paints)
• "Painting"
• "Color Or Create": coloring books, crayons/markers, play dough free play
• "Sewing"
• "Kitchen Time": to bake or cook something special together.  I should really be working with A on some independent "cooking" skills (like spreading her own PB and Jelly).
• "Cut & Glue": scissor practice, pasting practice, guided creativity with scissors, glue, stickers, etc.
• "Building": build together using Lincoln Logs, Legos, wooden blocks, or (possibly) play dough
• "Princesses": I'll sit down and play with her and her tiny princesses
• "Games": I'd like to teach A some basic card games, like slap jack, old maid, etc.  We also have Hi-Ho-Cherry-Oh, Ants-in-the-Pants, and Don't Spill the Beans.  She also likes to play with the dominoes and I may try to come up with some fun dice games.

Ten categories with multiple activities for each category...this outta keep us busy for a while.  Now I just need to come up with some more activities for E and me :)

I'm having fun with this, can you tell?

If you have a Mommy Time Fun Box (aka, "Preschool Box"), what do you have in your box?  Please share your experiences and ideas in the comments!  I'd love to learn from what other moms are doing, even the things that didn't work ;-)