Fresh from Heaven

We have a new little gift, fresh from heaven, as pink and as pretty as the most perfect rosebud that has ever been created.She is

loved

loved

loved

and is flourishing under the tender affections of her siblings. Oh, the wonder as sweet toddler hands gently unfurl the tiny, tiny fingers, faces awash with amazement at their perfection...gentle kisses on a downy head...standing on tiptoes for just more peek at her sweet, sleeping face.

   It reminds me of this story I read years ago:

Soon after her brother was born, little Sachi began to ask her parents to leave her alone with the new baby. They worried that like most four-year-olds, she might feel jealous and want to hit or shake him, so they said no. But she showed no signs of jealousy. She treated the baby with kindness and her pleas to be left alone with him became more urgent. They decided to allow it.
   Elated, she went into the baby's room and shut the door, but it opened a crack - enough for her curious parents to peek inside and listen. They saw little Sachi walk quietly up to her baby brother, put her face close to his and say quietly: "Baby, tell me what God feels like. I'm starting to forget."

Dan Millerman

From: Chicken Soup for the Soul

A city mother dreams....

   May I never wish them older. 

    May I not entangle their moments of childhood wonder and uncomplicated joy in the snares of adult expectations or my own silly-selfish needs. 

   Instead: Yes, yes, go!, I'd like to breathe in a tiny ear, gently moving a single golden hair beside her head with my breath, as her eyes are taking in the delicious possibilities of a world full of pond fish and tadpoles and fallen tree trunks and tiny bugs. 

  

 Yes!! stretch out your hand,  little one. Touch the bark, the feather, the fluffiness on that leaf. Bite into that sun-warm tomato and press your nose deep into the grass, letting that smell, that glorious, green smell come live in your memory forever. 

  

Taste the red dust, listen to the wind and the rain and the birds and the sound of your Mama's heart as you rest for just a moment on my lap..I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU...before you flit off again - my wonder-filled, spectacular little butterfly children!! See what Glorious Father God has made, and ENJOY it! It is a feast, a breathtaking celebration of His goodness, His creativity that causes your tiny heart to want to explode in a rainbow of joy at His beauty, His greatness!! 

Go!!

Run!! 

Climb!! 

Roll!! 

Giggle!! 

Look!!

Explore!! 

Discover the Truth for yourself in the gentle unfurling of a fern leaf, in the life-hungry open beak of a baby bird, in the scurry-scurry-scurriness of those little black ants!

 But then...what is there but a tiny patch of grass, and not even enough of it for you run on. The grey pre-fabricated wall and the windows of the next house peering over it into our lives like a rude intruder, making me want to keep the curtains drawn. I don't, because it will just make your little world even smaller.  

   I ache for your sakes.  My dreams are vast expanses of rolling green fields and air so blue you can just about taste its crispness. But I wake with fears of muscles atrophying and lungs shrinking because there.is.no.space. and another neighbour suffocates a patch on our walking route with dead paving. 

   Oh, Lord!! I read to them this morning about how You lead us to green pastures, to those quiet streams of rest. Lead me there. Show me a way, Father, show this city mother how to be grateful in the midst of all this brick and concrete and the tarred roads and the never-ceasing noise. Make me blind for the smallness of the patch of grass, and instead magnify for me the miracle of each green blade that grows there. When I look up at that piece of sky the size of a postage stamp, help me, please, to not forget how amazing it still is that it is there, that I can see it, that I have them to show it to. Open my eyes to the miracles, the miracles, so I can show them.

   Come whisper gently in my ear, let me hear You tell me Go, sweet daughter, go and explore what is there! and open your eyes to all the delicious possibilities of the world I made for you: 

Plump green pea pods 

and the first lemon 

and an abundant harvest of fat tomatoes in my pot-garden...

and the birds: the sparrows and doves and bishops - a shock of red feathers amongst the lush green of the White Stinkwood. 

A tree!! Alive! A life, growing right in our front garden! Look children, look, and rub the glossy green leaves between your fingers and smell that grass -the best smell in the world! 

And do you hear the Hadeda's -  your favourite birds, Little Boy! - they are coming in at sunset now to rest in the blue gums next to the busybusy road before flying off to wherever they sleep tonight. 

Tonight...there will be the moon, it's silvery orb so gentle, and yet not all the lights of this great big city can compare to it.

Hush, now, sweet ones, and dream of those little black ants that scurried over the paving today, and remember the wonder as we watched the snail sail up the sliding door for us to see its foot, and may God guard your dreams and give you visions of green pastures...

    

"Bless all young mothers..."

This past weekend I hosted a delightfully successful Phonics and Early Maths workshop for 42 mothers and pre-school teachers. We had the joy of listening to two knowledgeable and passionate ladies share some wonderfully creative, practical ideas for playfully teaching our children, and my toes curled with utter delight as I watched the moms in the audience enjoy the whole thing! But I had put in many long hours to make the morning happen, and spent most of last week making up goodie bags, sewing bunting and a banner for my toy display, baking and frosting cupcakes for the ladies to enjoy at teatime, and sending out many, many e-mails in reply to queries about the event. Still, what a joy to see something like this come together and mothers being inspired to go home bubbling over with delicious ideas!

So when my husband suggested a daytrip up the West Coast on Sunday morning, I gratefully accepted! Earlier in the week I saw a quick and easy recipe for kebabs and couscous salsa salad over at Se7en, and I quickly put it all together to serve as a cold lunch later in the day. We packed the picnic basket, the small folding table, some soothing instrumental music, and a bag full of books to keep littlies entertained, and winded our way through glorious fields of spring flowers, and up the coast to a tiny fisherman's villiage called Velddrif. It was the perfect spot for us: a seemingly endless stretch of shelley beach,  little waves just big enough to cause a toddler tremendous excitement without any threat of knocking her over, and only two other people also quietly enjoying the mellow spring afternoon on the beach.

Sweetpea picked the Namaqualand daisies from a little patch of wildflowers next to where we were parked...

Lunch is served!

All I forgot was a cheery table cloth -will do better next time!!

After lunch the Dad dozed in the shade of the car, Arrowboy explored the succulents growing on the road next to the beach, and Sweetpea and I used some of our enamel picnic crockery as vessels for building sandcastles. And all around just the sweet quietness of swishing waves breaking over broken shells and pebbles, and the seagulls overhead...

And off he goes..

The view...

And then, after all that delicious tranquility, we headed back home with two exhausted children who nodded off before we even reached the tar road again... And it would have been the perfect end to the perfect day if only they had remained asleep for the rest of the two hour drive home. But, alas, Sweetpea woke up after just ten minutes, terribly groggy and complaining of an earcahe, until her wailing woke up ArrowBoy and he joined in the cacophony with wails of his own, and all this persisted for the rest of the drive home, and well into evening. I fell into bed bleary-eyed and drained later that eve, only to be woken shortly thereafter by Sweetpea's inconsolable sobs that the only way she could ever go to sleep, is if I let her sleep with us. By four in the morning the Dad and I could not stand the kicking anymore, and I carried her back to her own bed.

Suffice it to say that I don't do well on lack of sleep, and that today was hard, Monday being laundry day and then the oven stopped working and dinner was late and I found out we won't be moving to a house with a beautiful big yard after all...Oh my goodness, it is a sure recipe for horrible, selfish, utterly unattractive SELF-PITY!!!!

 But then..oh then... at the end of it all, I sat down at my computer to tie up some loose ends in the admin department of this household, and inbetween browsed a few blogs...and discovered this poem. And a little wall broke inside and released some weary tears and The Gentle Shepherd softly reminded me again that "He shall gently lead those that are with young." Isaiah 40:11.

" God,

bless all young mothers

at end of day,

kneeling wearily with each

small one

to hear them pray.

Too tired to rise when done...

and yet, they do,

longing simply to sleep

one whole night through.

Too tired to sleep,

too tired to pray...

God,

bless all young mothers

at close of day."

~ Ruth Bell Graham

What a beautiful baby!

This darling little donkey foal was recently born on my sister and her husband's farm and I couldn't resist posting these photos to share the cuteness with you all. I think it looks like the little fellow is wearing a really fluffy hat!

My brother-in-law shared with us that donkeys make really good mothers and are very protective of their young. For this purpose they are kept on the farm: see, they are put out to graze with pregnant cows or cows with young calves, to protect the young calves from jackals. One kick from a protective donkey mama is enough to kill a jackal.

I think there's a beautiful and encouraging little lesson here for us mamas who have friends with very young babies, who might be feeling a little overwhelmed at times...As that new mommy tries to find her feet in this wonderful adventure that is motherhood, let's not be the jackals who critisize and attack. Instead, may we rally around the new mom and give her space to find her and her baby's own, unique rythm. Let us strive to be a blessing, always.

My son's first birthday

I would like to thank my friend Georgia from Love and Lollipops for the beautiful photographs she took of our party! You can view more of her work on her blog - click on the link above.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

We invited four little friends and I set up our party table in the living room.

The party favours are pinned to the front of the tablecloth, and the polka dots you see on the floor is a vinyl tablecloth which I stuck to the carpet with maskig tape so little people (read "their mothers") wouldn't have to worry about spilling juice.

Some of the goodies on offer:

And the birthday cake! I baked a double layer chocolate cake using my all-time favourite recipe, and then decorated it with lots of yellow butter icing, a cheerful paper rosette and mini Smarties. I had tons of help - Sweetpea's job was taste testing two mini Smarties for every one that I stuck on, and ArrowBoy was perched on my hip for moral support during the entire operation. Yes, I decorated it with one hand! (It was just before supper time last night and he just would not be left on the floor while all the action was going on at counter-top!) 

We served freshly made popcorn in ducky paper cups - I just glued on some googly eyes and a cardboard beak. Isn't he a cheery little fellow?! The best part was having Sweetpea on her stepstool at the stove while the corn was popping - she shrieked with delight!

We had pretty polka dot party hats. Arrow's had a little No.1 label to make him feel extra special!

I handstitched this name banner from felt. I am redoing his bedroom in bright, cheerful colours, and the banner will get a special place above his bed. I copied the little animals from a website which I love, and though I am always happy to support businesses selling good quality handmade goods, the exchange rate just puts their wares way out of our league, so I decided to make it myself.

ArrowBoy was a little overwhelmed and very surprised  when we started singing the birthday song...

Someone recently remarked that Arrow reminds her of Noddy, so my youngest sister gave him a small Noddy doll and this gorgeous Mr Plod, which he hugged close all afternoon!

Each little guest also received a felt friend sewn onto a felt version of their initials, with a bright little ribbon so they can hang it on the door!

We couldn't have asked for a more perfect day and the children loved being out in the sunshine!

A few battle-weary troops...naptimes were not far off...

When I found out that I was pregnant with Arrow, my husband and I unanimously agreed that we could not be bothered with obstetricians and the whole medical system again. Although I gave birth to Sweetpea in a beautiful, state-of-the-art private hospital, we were left disillusioned with the way things are done in this country when it comes to birth choices. Although we were very clear about our choices regarding the birth, we felt that our wishes were bulldozed, and I ended up having an emergency C-section. It seems that most gynaes talk mothers into C-sections even fairly early on in their pregnancies, since it can be conveniently scheduled...I have enough to say on this topic to cover pages of posts, but I will constrain myself at this point.

Anyway,  I started researching homebirths, and specifically VBAC's (vaginal birth after cesearean) and we were very soon sold on the idea of having a midwife-assited water birth in our home. I read and researched and prepared myself physically and spiritually for what was going to be the most beautiful, peaceful home-birthing experience. I kept a special journal in which I recorder all my prayers about the birth, and shared with my unborn child my longing to hold him in my arms.

The birth pool arrived two weeks befor my due date and I was SO excited!

Then, finally, on the night of 19 July last year my contractions started. I was thrilled and excited and yet also so peacefully contented with the fact that our baby was going to be born in the comfort and protection of our home.

I will spare you the details about the 36 hours of labour and just cut to the part where, by 12 noon on 21 July, my husband, midwife and I all agreed that it would be best to call the gynaecologist. (He was really sweet about the whole thing when I told him about our home birthing plans and graciously offered to be on stand-by should we need him). Long story short, our precious son was delivered via emergency C-section an hour later - healthy, gorgeous and completely unawares of all the drama that came before. The doctor found that my pelvis opening is simply too narrow to let through even the smallest little baby.

As much as I was COMPLETELY SMITTEN with my little boy, my heart was also broken about the dream that had shattered: I knew that all subsequent births would now have to be C-sections. I could not understand it - I had prayed so many times asking God to give me a clear answer as to His will for the birth, and was so certain that the home-birth was what He wanted for me. I really struggled with some serious trust issues for a month or so after Arrow's birth. I just could not get myself to pray., and when I tried I broke down in hopeless tears, feeling that God was not going to listen to me anyway.

But true to His Word he never left nor forsoke me. Instead He gently guided me back to a place where I could find rest in the knowledge of His love and the assurance that He is in control and that all things work together for those who trust in Him. I am still sad sometimes when I think of just how much I had wanted to have natural birth at home. But looking back, I am immensely grateful that He had given me the opportunity to labour - that although I didn't actually have a natural birth, I do know what it is to be in labour, and to breathe through those contractions, and to know just how painful they are, and about the almost hilarious 'normality' of those moments between conractions! And I also know today that had I been able to have the birth I dreamt about, I would probably have become proud, even scornful of mothers who chose C-sections. God was gracious and used that birthing experience to teach me about being gracious to other mothers; to remain humble and trust in Him alone; to not judge others for their choices., and to be grateful for good midwifes and doctors and nurses.

Today, one year later, I look at my precious son and my heart rejoices in the goodness of my God.

Real Mothers

I did three enormous loads of washing today due to incidents over the weekend with leaky disposable nappies, and a short-lived, temporary set-back in potty training that nonetheless caused a fair amount of chaos. As I sit here typing I have pureed chicken-broccoli-butternut on my clothes from where a tired little munchkin buried his downy head in my neck as I tried to feed him one more bite before bath time, and behind me the living room floor is scattered with toys that I am just too tired to pick up right now.

But then as I was catching up on some admin, an e-mail came through from my sister that so sweetly and gently reminded me of how fleeting this time with my little ones is, and suddenly my heart is so  much lighter. I don't know the author of this simple little ode to motherhood, but may she be blessed! Enjoy!

MOTHERS

Real Mothers don't eat quiche;

They don't have time to make it.

Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils

Are probably in the sandbox.

Real Mothers often have sticky floors,

Filthy ovens and happy kids.

Real Mothers know that dried play dough

Doesn't come out of carpets.

Real Mothers don't want to know what

The vacuum just sucked up.

Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?'

And get their answer when a little

Voice says, 'Because I love you best.'

Real Mothers know that a child's growth

Is not measured by height or years or grade...

It is marked by the progression of Mummy to Mum to Mother...

PS: This real mother DOES eat quiche..because I have a super easy recipe for it, which my family loves! The original used bacon, but we don't like pork, so I've replaced it with biltong (for my foreign readers, that's similar - but not quite the same - as jerky!)

Spinach & Biltong Quiche

1 large onion, chopped

1 bunch of spinach

a generous handful of sliced beef biltong

3 free range eggs

250 ml cream (or orley whip for a dairy free alternative)

salt & pepper

mustard powder

grated cheddar cheese (optional)

Fry the onion in a little oil.

Tear the spinach and cook in salty water for for about 3 minutes. Drain.

Add the onion and biltong to the cooked spinach and mix.

Pour into a greased quiche or pie dish.

Whisk the eggs, cream and seasoning and pour over the spinach mixture.

Sprinkle with grated cheese and bake for 35 minutes at 180 degrees Celcius, or until set and slightly browned.

Enjoy!!

No Children! by Edgar A. Guest

No children in the house to play -
It must be hard to live that way!
I wonder what the people do
When night comes on and work is through
With no glad little folks to shout,
No eager feet to race about,
No youthful tongues to chatter on
About the joy that's been and gone?
The house might be a castle fine,
But what a lonely place to dine!



No children in the house at all,
No fingermarks upon the wall,
No corner where the toys are piled--
Sure indication of a child.
No little lips to breathe the prayer
That God shall keep you in His care,
No glad caress and welcome sweet
When night returns you to your street;
No little lips a kiss to give--
Oh, what a lonely way to live!



No children in the house! I fear
We could not stand it half a year.
What would we talk about at night,
Plan for and work with all our might,
Hold common dreams about and find
True union of heart and mind,
If we two had no greater care
Than what we both should eat and wear?
We never knew love's brightest flame
Until the day the baby came.

And now we could not get along
Without their laughter and their song.
Joy is not bottled on a shelf,
It cannot feed upon itself,
And even love, if it shall wear,
Must find its happiness in care;
Dull we'd become of mind and speech
Had we no little ones to teach.
No children in the house to play!
Oh, we could never live that way!

Triumphs and Tears

I read this passage in a book once and as my children grow, I often remember it in those moments when I realise they've just reached a new milestone...

Watching something you love grow, is both pleasure and pain. Each new phase - crawling, walking, talking - brings shouts of pride, but with each comes the mourning of the phase gone past. Never again the cluck of her chin as she fed on my breast; never again small enough to carry in one arm while I stirred soup or carried turf with the other; never again an infant lying in a muslin-covered basket in the top fields while we worked. The soft down of her scalp, fingers the size of beads, the mysterious whispers before words come: behind the joy in each new talent, I regretted the passing of the last. I had a secret longing to keep her small and precious and a part of me. As miserable as I had been during pregnancy, I now often dreamt that she was back inside my body and that the two of us were floating like that forever, each clinging to the other for soft comfort in some eternal womb.

Time is impatient to take your child from you. So you learn that each moment is precious and that life is an inevitable clock. The pleasure of rearing a child is just a prelude to the pain of letting them go, and I anticipated that with an ache every day of her small life. I thought it would make it easier when she finally reached adulthood. But it didn't.

No matter what wisdom or tricks for happiness you learn, a mother worries every day for the life of her child. A wise one will pretend to let them go to keep them, but it's just a sweet amd sensible lie. Motherhood is a sweet, sweet suffering; a joy today is marked by fear for tomorrow and a craving for yesterday."

From: Recipes for a Happy Marriage - a novel by Kate Kerrigan

Note: This was a beautiful story, but please be advised that this

book contains swear words and an extra-marital affair.

Bittersweet. That is the best way I can describe the incident that occurred in our home tonight. Oh, maybe this might seem so insignificant to you, but this mother's heart was touched. Yes, with both a pang of pain AND a tender joy.

I was catching up on some writing after having put the children to bed, when I heard Sweetpea start to cry in her room. I left it for a moment, hoping she'd go back to sleep, but then I realised that through her sobs she was saying something she has never said before "Mama, scared!"

I opened her bedroom door and had to smile a little: Missy had never been asleep after all, but had quietly been unpacking her entire bookshelf and her tea set and was now standing right in the middle of all this chaos, her chubby cheeks tear-stained and flushed with both exhaustion and emotion. I asked her what the matter was and she said: "Scared, Mama. That one there!" She was pointing to a large, hard-cover collection of Dr. Seuss stories. Of course I immediately realised the reason for this distress: The picture of the green old Grinch. She kept her distance while I packed the book away where she couldn't see it anymore and I remembered how, as I child, I was terrified of touching pages with pictures of frogs on them, as if they could come alive by the mere touch of my hand!

You're a mean one, Mr Grinch!

(Found this picture on the Internet, the actual book that cused the drama is now in her room where she's fast asleep)

I comforted her and tucked her in and laid down beside her in the now darkened room, stroking her hair as I hummed a lullabye. And I thought of how I had tried to delay this day: the day when she would first say that she was afraid of something.

A friend of mine's toddler son went through a phase where he was scared of everything, and I told myself then that he was only scared because they have taught him the word. I figured it's like a tool: I would give my child good tools, positive ones, like words for expressing happiness and joy and excitement. I have done well in that department, and she is just as eloquently able to express her feelings of anger and sadness. But to me, fear was in a league of its own and I was trying my best to keep her innocent of the concept of fear. Yes, I know. Silly mommy.

And yet, now that it has come, I am surprised that I also feel a sense of delight: because my child has learnt something about her own emotions. She has found a way to express a thing inside of her that has caused her distress. She has made a connection between this abstract, unseeable emotion and another abstract, invisible thing: a word. We've read a few books about feelings over the past few months, and I try to remember to help her name her emotions when I recognise them in our daily situations. It really is gratifying to see it bearing fruit now!

I try to keep this blog REAL - sharing with you ideas I use with my own children, showing you what we are up to, and sharing my excitement about products I find educational, fun and inspirational. And since emotions seem to be a recurrent theme in our home at the moment, over the next few posts I will share with you tips and ideas that I am finding helpful as I guide my children on the road to emotional intelligence. I would LOVE to hear your comments and what works for you, so be sure to drop me a line!

If I had my child to raise over again...

My husband and I with the precious children God gave us.

"If I had my child to raise all over again
I'd finger-paint more, and point the finger less.
I would do less correcting and more connecting.
I'd take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I would care to know less and know to care more.
I'd take more hikes and fly more kites.
I'd stop playing serious, and seriously play.
I would run more fields and gaze at more stars.
I'd do more hugging and less tugging.
I'd be firm less often and affirm much more
I would build self-esteem first, and the house later.
I'd teach less about the love of power, and more about the power of love."

           - by Diane Loomans from 100 Ways to build self-esteem and teach values

Baby Einstein...or not!

A while ago I published a post about how you are the best gift you can give your child and the reaction I received, especially via e-mail and even telephone, was almost overwhelming! At around the same time I heard of a lady who is a staunch believer in the Baby Einstein DVD's - her toddlers spend up to four hours a day watching it. There is no way that a television and even the most professionally produced DVD's in the world can replace the learning that takes place as we spend time with our children.
They can't touch the colours on a TV screen, but they can when rolling play dough into little balls or snakes with mom.

They can't touch the fluffy little ducklings on the screen, but they can touch real ones on a weekend outing with Dad to the petting farm.

A DVD can show them an empty and full glass, but it won't register untill they are standing on a step stool by the kitchen sink while you wash the dishes, pouring the lovely warm rinsing water from cup to cup!

Anyway, back to Baby Einstein. I recently happened upon an article by Nikki Busch on her blog Bright Ideas Outfit. Nikki is considered one of South Africa's experts on educational toys and popular for her Toy Talk workshops.She cited a headline article from the New York Times that read No Genius in your crib? Get a Refund! It was about how Disney, the producers of the Baby Einstein series, is now offering refunds to parents who bought these DVD's as educational tools. You can read the article from the Times here - I highly recommend it. And for a brilliant example of how real-life, hands on education is benefitting one local family, check out my friend Linnie's blog post, The Learning Lifestyle.

The best toy money can't buy

A while ago a lady came to visit and hearing that I sell toys, asked about a birthday gift for her little boy, whose favourite things right now are farm animals. I had just the thing - a set containing a sticker book, dry-erase pen and activity book, and a colouring book with crayons, all of it about farm animals. I was still opening the box to show her when she stopped me and said she was not interested - she was looking for something that the child - a toddler of nearly 3 - could do on his own. She said she works hard all week (she's a very successful business woman at a large international company) and that she just doesn't have the strentgh or inclination to have to sit down with her little one on a weekend to do the kinds of things that she is trusting the day-care lady to teach him.

And my heart just broke for the sake of this little boy.

I am aware that daycare centres and playschools these days offer a variety of 'extra-mural' activities, where trained people come to the premises to teach children all kinds of skills. I was at a playschool just yesterday to drop off a catalogue, where a very energetic young lady from one such outsourced company was doing some physical exercises with three little toddlers. She was dressed in shorts and a pretty T-shirt with the company's logo embroidered in fun, bright colours, and even had a little whistle dangling around her neck. She was friendly and I am sure she is very well trained in what she does. But...she's not the mother, and the children were jogging up and down  in what looked like the front hall, distracted by the care givers tending to about 5 or 6 younger babies in baby seats and high chairs. The young instructor was trying her best to engage the three little ones, but by the looks of it, they were just going through the paces.I felt sorry for the instructor, who wasn't really getting anywhere. And I felt sorry for the children, who probably didn't have much choice in whether they felt like jogging up and down on a sweltering hot day or not, because their parents paid for the lessons. And I felt sorry for their parents, who were working hard so they could give their children the best, and probably thought that the trained young instructor from the reputable company could do a better job at teaching their child than they could.

Dear mother, I have some pretty amazing toys in my catalogues. And I can show you some very impressive educational games that has the potential to really stimulate your child's brain and develop his or her skills. But none of these are intended to replace YOU. The very best toy in my collection will be just about useless unless an loving parent takes time to show a little one how to use it, or to play the game with them, or to help little fingers that still struggle bit with threading the large beads.

Please understand that I am not saying children should be entertained at all times. They are part of a family and as such have to learn that they are not to be indulged all the times or  be the centre of the universe. (I like what Kevin Leman says: "No one in the family is more important than...the family!) It is important that children are encouraged to play independently and keep themselves occupied. But we teach them this not because we want to be rid of their demands for while. We show them how to be engaged in focussed. independent play, because we want them to grow into well-adjusted, resourceful, contented people who will contribute meaningfully to society.

Sweetpea can play on her own for very long stretches of time. But I believe she is able to do so firstly, because she knows I am close by when she needs me (I'll stroke her head in passing or she'll look at at me for a reassuring smile and resume her play), secondly, because she is doing something stimulating and pleasant that I have shown her how to do, and thirdly, beacuse she doesn't have to vie for my attention. When our children are used to us frequently spending time with them, their 'joy cups' remain full and they don't feel anxious. This in turn creates a very pleasnt atmosphere in the home!

So where did the high flying, over-tired career mom I mentioned at the beginning lost the plot? In the first place I think she just doesn't realise the value of together time with her little boy. Our children shouldn't have to choose between quality time and quantity time, by the way. They want, and need, both. If this mom could only see how important it is for her to sit down on the carpet with her little one and guide his hand as he traces the dotted lines with the dry-erase pen. Or to share the joy her toddler derives from pulling the sheep stickers off a sheet and sticking them on the picture of the green pasture. And sharing in his enjoyment and seeing the world through her child's eyes will go such a long way in releasing the built-up tension from her stressful work week!

But I also think this mother has been taken in by the lie that our children need constant entertainment. I am sure that if I visited her house, I would find a myriad of toys that make an impressive array of sounds and light effects and are sold as 'stimulating' or even 'educational'. If you are a parent that believe a toy should make a sound in order to capture your child's attention, and if you are going to spend a little fortune on such a toy, may I suggest you rather spend that money on a solid brass bell? It will be a much better investment in your child's education, because, as opposed to the plastic thingamabob, she will be able to SEE WHY the bell makes that sound! Our children do not need hi-tech electronic, flashing toys. Let them sort the cutlery tray while you do the dishes, instead. This way you get to be in the kitchen TOGETHER, which is a great time to chat about the week or teach her a new song or tell her about things you used to like when you were her age. At the same time she'll be doing something useful and contributing to the smooth running of the household, AND..ta-daaaa, her little brain will be engaged in an essential pre-maths activity!!

As Easter time and Freedom day and Worker's day draw closer, let's turn off the TV and rather build a puzzle as family, or go for a long meandering walk with your toddler, stopping when he stops and really taking an interest in that stick or leaf of beetle. Let's do WITH them...! YOU are the best toy your children could ever ask for!!

The Best!

I found the following little piece in a wonderful study manual by Nancy Campbell called "The Power of Motherhood - What the Bible says about mothers." This book had a tremendous impact on me and my approach to motherhood. (You can get more information on this book and details on how to order it, at Linnie's blog, Back to Ancient Ways ). The original version appeared in a copy of LLL News. May this inspire you for the week ahead!

"With all the gadgets and labour-saving devices on the market for babies nowadays, I thought I'd try to find the best of each. I was not surprised to find that:

The BEST infant seat is mother's arms.
The BEST baby swing is mother's lap in a rocking chair.
The BEST stroller is mother's body.
The BEST nursery record is mother's own heartbeat.
The BEST lullaby record is mother's singing, and of course,
The BEST food, pacifier, electric warmer, and tranquilizer can be found at mother's breast."

Written by Sally Simmons