Learning to Fail

I have an oldest child who hates failure. Hates it. He's not excellent in every area but he tries to be. For instance, one of his buddies is a really fast runner. He beats Isaac nearly every time they race. It's hard for Isaac, but he keeps trying. He is persistent and will still race even though he knows he's not the fastest. This is good and I'm glad that he deals with these situations. But in school, that is where he does excel. School challenges him and fascinates him. And it keeps him on toes as he tries to learn more and more and get better and better at all the different subjects. He aims high and often isn't disappointed.

Although I am glad that he works really hard, it's also important for him to learn that we all make mistakes. We just can't be perfect all the time. Life isn't that way and people aren't build that way. We have to extend grace to ourselves and others.

This is where he struggles. Mostly with himself.

Yesterday he had a very difficult time with a spelling test. The last few weeks he had been getting 100%s on the pre-test which meant he didn't have to take the real test on Friday. He was really happy about that and worked hard at practicing. And these aren't easy words people. They're really hard. Where and were...on the same test! Psalm...island, they, does, brush, and so on. They don't all "follow the rules" as he will inform me, so there is a lot to remember. They're tough!! (We're glad it's tough though because it pushes him and he needs to be challenged!! All kids do!)

He's also still learning the whole process of taking a spelling test. The words aren't repeated at the end and he has to number, as well as write. To a little six-year-old who is still remembering how to write his letters perfectly, it's a lot to get done. So sometimes, it's easy to fall behind and miss a word. It happens at times at home when we practice, and occasionally it happens at school.

Yesterday's test was the review test. So even though he had seen all of the words before, there were 40 of them. That's a lot of remembering and numbering. When he got half way through the test, he had fallen a bit behind and missed a word. Once he did, tears began streaming down his face and he began to panic. Panic. He couldn't miss a word...that meant he wouldn't get 100%! The tears turned into sobs and his very sweet teacher tried to console him that it was just a practice and he'd get another chance the next day. But he couldn't pull it together. He had wanted to get them all right. Since it was the middle of the spelling test and after numerous attempts to get him to dry up his tears, she had to ask him to sit outside in the hall until he could calm down. He did calm down and came back to finish up. At that point though, he had missed quite a few.

When this story was relayed to Steve and me, I was so thankful for it. I know that sounds funny, but I was. First of all, the school Isaac goes to is so excellent so I knew that he was in good hands. I was thankful his teacher was there encouraging Isaac to ask God to help him gain control and praying for him. I was also thankful that he had experienced a failure in an area that he normally excels in. Since he already has that bent toward trying to be "perfect" it's so good for him to see that he's not and that it's okay. We all need grace. That's why Christ came in the first place.

Steve had a good talk with him last night and he re-took the test today. I could tell he was doing better when he climbed in the car and said, "Mom, my spelling test went great. I only missed two."

I want him to aim high because many times, he will succeed. His determination and drive are wonderful character traits to possess. But I also want him to know he will fail. And I want him to learn to walk himself through that whole process even when we're not there. Because like yesterday, we weren't around to coach him. He had to do it himself and so often in his life, he will have to learn to deal with his failures gracefully all on his own.

Often, when I'm thinking about an area that needs work with one of my kids, I'll add on ten to fifteen years and think to myself, "What would this (insert anything) look like at that point in their lives?" And I'm always compelled to be thankful for the lessons they are facing now so that when they are older, they will have at least have experience with those particular hardships, whatever they are.

For Isaac, it's good to learn to fail to see that failure in itself doesn't have to be the end. It's what he does with it that really matters. This situation turned out all right. I'm glad he was able to recover and do much better today.

However, it's not easy for me to see him fail either. As his mama, it's hard to watch!! But, I guess I can say that I'll be thankful when another situation shakes out like this again.

It'll be good for both of us.

Our Joshy is 3!

Our Joshua David is three years old today. It's funny how I thought Isaac was old when he turned three. But to me, Joshua is still so small. Yet even though he is our littlest boy, he has got the biggest personality. His presence in our family is unmistakable and irreplaceable. And this is something we don't take for granted.

We almost lost him at birth. His last two birthdays have been bittersweet for me as I was still trying to process through what happened that crazy Saturday night. Yet God works in our hearts and moves us to where they need to be in His time. And my heart needed to be thankful. Three years later, I can smile, laugh and recognize what a rescue that night was, even though it was traumatic for me.

This morning I got to kneel on the very bathroom floor, that three years ago today, was covered in blood, to thank God that He had mercy and gave us our son. I don't know why He did. He doesn't always and this is something I am very aware of. Yet, for some reason God chose to intervene and save him and save me.

It was a perfect gift. Joshua is a perfect gift.

That's why he is Joshua..."Saved By The Lord."

Case in Point

In order to juxtapose my last post with the heavily weighted male side of our house, this is what occurred last evening.

A little glimpse...

Right before bed, Caleb came up to me and gently but firmly dug his little chin into my arm. Before I could remind him he was being too rough with me, he looked at me fervently and said, "Mom, I'm ready to fight. I'm ready."

Instead of laughing in his face about the cuteness he was exuding (especially because he was oh.so.serious), I bit my lip and then said, "Well then, go find Dad. I'm sure he'd love to fight you."

And so he did.

All three of them did in fact.

Every weapon in the house was out. They were running, screaming, punching, kicking and wrestling around like crazy men. One of their favorite games is to throw stuffed animals at their Dad, which he promptly pelts them back with. It was absolute chaos. But it always is. It never fails that someone is crying for a minute because they got knocked around just a bit too much. That's usually when I give Steve "The Look" that basically says, "Did you have to tickle him that much?!!" Steve always "looks" back and says, "He's totally fine." And within a few seconds, they're back and ready for more.

At one point, Elliana was catching the energy for a bit so I sent her in to investigate just to see how she would handle it. She made it into the playroom where they were, saw the madness, threw me a little look and then side-stepped them every so carefully to go play with her kitchen. But not without giving her Da Da a little pat on the head first. That was her best shot people.

I about died laughing. And I couldn't believe this beautiful material was unfolding right in front of me, especially since I had just written about femininity.

The differences are just stark. And I love it.

Distinctly Feminine

So as you all know, I have a lot of boys. Three of them to be exact. And they all came in order. So for five years or so, all we did was boy. Boy, boy, boy. And more boy.

When Elliana joined our family, I knew she would be different. But I wasn't quite sure how. The first year I noticed a few things, besides the obvious, that she did differently than the boys. One of those things is that she babbled. A lot. My boys babbled, but nothing like her. She babbled all.the.time. It was like she was trying to have a heart to heart while getting her diaper changed. The other thing I noticed is that she enjoyed eye contact much more as well. She wanted us to look at her and smile. She studied our faces and relished in our reactions. She needed it. She needed that security. Both of these differences made sense. She's a girl. She's talkative and relational. Duh!

They especially made sense to me because well, I am a female myself.

But now that she's been getting a bit older and moving into toddlerland, I have started to see even more, that who she is, really is how she is wired and not simply the result of "conditioning".

Do you remember Psych 101 where we were taught that our gender is merely a result of our conditioning? I remember sitting in the PAC lecture hall at Cal Poly listening to a professor drone on how our gender is conditioned into us by our parents and not by our biology. While there might be some conditioning going on, I believe (and did then as well) that essentially we were created male and female and that our differences were a result of original, creative wiring, not our environment. I remember thinking then it was all a bunch of bunk. Now I'm totally convinced.

If anything, this little girl has been "conditioned" to be boyish because we mostly have boy toys, she has three big brothers and her parents have been in boy mode for so long that half of the time we refer to her as "buddy." (Slowly we're getting more used to calling her "Miss" and using the pronoun "she").

Yet despite her "nurture", she is still explicitly girly. Let me give you a few examples. We have about five hundred books. We have maybe five that are girly. I can't tell you how she finds them. They're like a needle in a haystack. But she does. And she brings those ones out for me to read to her, time and time and time again.It amazes me. She's attracted to them. I didn't even remember we had them. She found them and she just knew...those are girl books and I want to read them!!

We have one little tiara. That's the extent of our girl dress ups for right now (it's only a matter of time). But when we put that simple tiara on her head, she lights up and smiles from ear to ear. She just KNOWS it's bling. She knows it makes her look beautiful. She innately knows it. And she wants it. I didn't show her that. I definitely don't go around wearing a tiara.

She got a kitchen for her for her birthday from both grandparents and us. That is the one toy she goes back to over and over and over again. Did I mention we have every kind of train, lego, car race track and building toy you could think of? Yet, she wants her kitchen, every time.

I've also noticed that her whole make-up emotionally is just really different. She's softer, gentler, more emotional and more timid. When she gets hurt, she cries for longer and wants to be held closer. She gets scared more easily and she gets her "feelings hurt" when she is told, "No." My boys never got their feelings hurt. They might have been mad when they were given a boundary, but they were never hurt about it.

The more she grows, the more distinctly feminine she becomes. Since I have so many wild reeds, it's really easy to spot a rose. Yet, her femininity complements her brothers tremendously. She brings out a gentleness in them they had never known before just by being herself.

By being distinctly feminine.

I'm starting to think all of those crazy psychologists need to spend one afternoon with my crew. If they did, they would have to throw all of their theories about gender out the window.

There's so much confusion in our day about male and female. But God really made it simple. We shouldn't try and be something we're not. It goes against our very nature. I am a female. My husband is a male. We were designed for different purposes and are wired totally differently. Together, we're an amazing picture of God's ultimate creativity and grace.

God made us different. And it's okay. In fact, it is truly beautiful.

We're so thankful that Elliana's presence reminds us about the softer side of life.

We love our Elliana.

A Good Reminder

Saturday night we got to go celebrate one of our dear friends who just completed his Master's Degree. It was a beautiful night of friends, remembering the hardships, glorying in the triumphs and being thankful for God's provision along the way.

For us it was a good reminder.

This friend and other good friends before him as well, finished his Master's with a family in tow. And he did it well.

God extended grace. God provided for the many details. God gave the success earned.

It was truly a time of celebration and we were glad to be there.

As we drove away, I looked at Steve and said, "What a great reminder as we're almost halfway done with your Master's. We'll make it. It's going to continue to be difficult but we'll get there."

We're so thankful for our friends who have gone before us. Their finishing, their faithfulness is such an encouragement to us. At times it is such a steep climb, but God's grace will cover us.

We're thankful for accomplishments that deserve honor and celebration.

And we're thankful for what these accomplishments remind us of...God is faithful. God will provide. God will walk with us.

All in all, in light of yet another semester in full swing, it was timely.

It was a good reminder.

Boys Day Out

We have shared season tickets to the 49ers for a few years now and this last Sunday, it was our turn to go to the game. In a crazy moment, we decided to take all of the boys since Joshy could still get in without a ticket. He gets left out of so many things still due to his age so, since we could bring him, we wanted to do it.

It was tons of fun.

We left Elliana with Grandma for the day and off we went.

Our version of tailgating was leftover pizza, chips and juice boxes. If you bring juice boxes to pretty much anything, you're an instant hero. So if you add chips to the equation, you can basically be transformed into a super hero in two seconds flat.

Just call us Mr. and Mrs. Incredible okay?!

Spittin' image, I know.

The only bummer about the game, besides the fact that they lost their ten point lead in the fourth quarter and then lost in overtime, was that it was extremely hot.

And I mean HOT!

It's never that hot at Candlestick (San Francisco for you out-of-towners)...ever.

But yesterday it was.

The boys (all of us rather) endured the heat for nearly three hours with the help of lemonade, ice cream and frequent head dousings with the water bottle and then we had to call it quits. It was just too hot.

We left right at the beginning of the Fourth Quarter.

But we missed the crazy traffic and didn't have to watch the heartbreaking loss at the end. In n Out always helps too at these moments.

I was just thankful to have my hands free of the baby to be able to hold hands and cuddle my boys.

Regardless of the heat and the loss, it truly was an excellent day.

PS: Andy Dollahite, I know that you were gloating as you thought of us poor 49er fans yesterday but just remember, you had to wear the 49er jersey all those years ago...we'll get you guys next time!!

A New Name

Toward the end of summer, one of Steve's colleagues who is the cross country coach, asked me if I would help out with Monte Vista's cross country team. After getting over the initial shock of- is she really talking to ME?, I quickly concluded that there would be no possible way I could pull that off. The last thing I want to do to Steve on a regular basis, is dump all four children on him as soon as he walks in the door. Plus that would involve him coming home really early, which just isn't possible. Occasionally him taking the kids right after work needs to happen for various reasons but, it's not the best case scenario. I politely told her, "No." and thanked her for even thinking of me.

But here's a confession. I always wished I had run cross country in high school. However, I didn't. I was too timid to try and I was almost always involved in the fall play (plus various choirs as well) which gave me an easy out. Nevertheless, I really could've pulled it off if I tried, but I didn't and I've always kinda regretted that.

Not a huge regret. Just a little one.

So when she asked me to help, it piqued my interest for sure and I was intrigued.

When we went away a few weekends ago, Steve asked me if I had ever gotten back to her about helping. I told him, "Yeah. I told her 'No.' pretty quickly." He looked aghast and asked me right away why I had done that. After I explained, he said, "Well, I couldn't help everyday but, I'd be willing to do it once a week."

I was shocked....stunned. And then I grew excited.

We decided I would help on the same day that my mom comes (she comes once a week to help me) that way if Steve couldn't get home right away, she would be there. She's actually done most of the work so far, as Steve has had some things going on, but they're going to tag team it for the next few months. (I love you Mom!)

I've only been able to help out for a few weeks but I have been having the best time. The kids are so great and it's fun to get to know them a bit as we run. When the first one called me Coach Dauphin, I about keeled over and died it was just too funny!! But in all seriousness, it's really blessed me-a lot.

I think that for the last six years I've been so focused on what was before me-lots of kids, a house to run and a very handsome husband!! And that's the way it should've been. But lately, since I don't have a nursing baby, I've been able to venture out in very small ways here and there and it's been really fun. I'm not saying that I've been "oh so oppressed" and "now I finally get to do something for myself" (dripping sarcasm here). But I think I've just been able to really enjoy some extras here and there. And since it's been awhile, I've been able to be really thankful for the time.

So I guess I've got a new name to add to the list...Coach Dauphin. The sound of it just makes me howl.

It also makes me smile-quite a bit.