Memoirs of a Moorings

Little Computer Junkie

“Computer games don't affect kids, I mean if Pac Man affected us as kids, we'd all be running around in darkened rooms, munching pills and listening to repetitive music” ~Gareth Owen

My little one has become a computer junkie. This is much of the reason why I haven't been posting. This kid is addicted to the the games on noggin.com and nickjr.com. I'm seeing now that I'm going to have to set some time limits. But lately I've been so terribly tired and still suffering with morning sickness 24-7 that his computer time is my time to rest. Found out I'm a week farther along than I thought. So that means my first trimester will end soon and very soon. In the meantime, I'd better cook up a plan to get this child off the computer and back outside!

(For those of you who read the feed or get updates via email, take a moment to visit the site and check out the cool baby countdown widget I added to the page. It makes 200 days seem like it's right around the corner!)

Sacrifice

"It is not what we take up, but what we give up, that makes us rich." ~Henry Ward Beecher

About a week before I found out I was pregnant, my husband, who is a four-time Muay Thai kickboxing champion, announced that he was retiring. Now I'd heard this before, so I didn't get too excited. That is, until he said he called the fighting promoter and told him he was retiring and that he would not be attending the fight where his upcoming bout was going to be announced in the ring. Wow. He'd gotten my attention. My husband the kickboxer is retired. For real. Wow! This is big news and news that I'd really been praying for. And here he was sittng before me telling me he was really retiring. It felt surreal.

Now, don't get me wrong. I fully supported his kickboxing fighting career. But it's mighty hard to be the wife on the outside of the ring. And even harder to be a mother sitting with a child outside of that ring. I remember the first fight Rhyan went to where he understood the concept. And as soon as he saw Daddy in that ring, he cried. And I wanted to join him. I would hold my breath until the final second of each and every fight. Praying and hoping he'd never get too hurt. Then there were the weeks leading up to the fight. The training was hard on him. Waking before dawn to run five miles. Getting home worn out and tired on the weekends from even more training. Watching our little one pull on Daddy to play outside, knowing that he didn't have a lick of energy left to throw a ball.

I know this was a hard decision for my husband. It's like a chapter in his life has ended. I know getting in the ring was exciting for him. Training gave him a goal and purpose. I don't under-estimate the importance that it played in his life. But I'm so happy to know that he'll have time for our little ones--and the new little one on the way. Praying for a change with the fighting was such a small request, but I'm constantly humbled at how God is concerned about even my smallest requests.

Psalm 37:4 has a renewed meaning of late. "Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart."

My  husband may not be able to be declared a winner inside the ring anymore, but he'll always be a champion at home among me and our growing family.

For One Special Lady

“My mother was the most beautiful woman I ever saw. All I am I owe to my mother. I attribute all my success in life to the moral, intellectual and physical education I received from her.” ~George Washington

This is my mother circa 1981. A vision of loveliness whose beauty still shines just as bright more than two decades later. I've never underestimated the value of this woman's presence in my life--especially since we almost lost her a decade ago during bypass surgery. I praise God for my mother. She's a prayer warrior, a great artist, a whiz at sewing, handy with her hands, an awesome hairstylist--a woman of many talents. Thank you God for blessing me all these years with a gem of a mother. Happy Mother's Day Ma. I'll love you forever.

Supernanny Where Are You?

"There was never a child so lovely but his mother was glad to get him to sleep." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

My husband and I are on the verge of calling Supernanny. Operation-Keep-Rhyan-In-His-Own-Bed has taken a turn for the worst. Day one and two were okay. But day three was a total failure. He woke up at 3am on Saturday night crying, wailing, knocking on his door, dying--basically pulling everything out of his theatrical hat to get back in our bed. The rule is: if the sun is out, you can come in our bed. So after almost two hours of back and forth (and even--yikes--a spanking) the kid would not let up.

Of course, it's our fault for giving in initially and letting him take over our bed. But then, getting sleep was a lot easier than drawing the line. Now we are backpedaling and paying for it dearly. WE WANT OUR BED BACK! We actually don't have a problem keeping him in his bed. The problem is the yelling down the hall to get back into the bed.

Maybe all that catalog reading before bed gives him nightmares???

Worship-From the Mouth of A Babe

                 

There is nothing sweeter than a child singing praise to God.

Big Wheels and Gumpat

"I'm good at working, but I'm very good at playing." ~Salma Hayek

Remember the days of big wheels...riding all day....having so much fun that you did not want to go inside? That summed up Rhyan's weekend. He finally is able to pedal the big wheel and he rode it up and down the street and almost around the block. He rode it so much the front wheel got all wonky!

This is such an exciting time in parenthood. Watching him grow wings one second and then clinging to us the next. It's a scary time too! Speaking of scary. We've got a visitor in the house. I've never seen him, but I've been told by a certain 3-year-old that his name is Gumpat. He's the reason why Rhyan is scared to sleep in his own bed. Turns out that Gumpat has followed Rhyan into our bedroom. I hate to see that child scared--even if it is a scam. So I asked him what color Gumpat is. Black. Black like a shadow or black like African American? I don't think he grasped that concept. So we don't know who the heck Gumpat is or where he came from. Instead of focusing on Gumpat, I've told Rhyan that if he's scared all he has to do is pray and Jesus will protect him. It seems to be working. Tonight in the tub, he said, "Jesus is watching over Gumpat." Good. "Are you scared of him?" I asked. "No," he said. "He's scared of me." Sounds even better! Let's keep it that way!