Occupy Happy Meals?

I took two of my little children with me to town today.  They both had dental appointments and since every child draws a sibling name for Christmas, we had a little bit of shopping to do as well.

I don't usually take just Ben, age 5, or Mariam, age 4, with me to town.  We're usually in a group with all of the other kids or they are at home with an older sibling.

Thew were so cute, so excited to be going somewhere.  (That's kinda sad, huh?  We're home a lot.)  They had showers and brushed their teeth extra good and Mariam put on her Christmas dress.  (Red velvet with white cuffs.  Because going to the dentist is a Big Deal for her.  She made Ben wear a red sweater with a train on it because she wanted him to match her.  The world truly is her stage, and everyone else has either a supporting role or is a bit actor.)

The dentist with his spit-sucking machine and trial-sized tubes of sparkly toothpaste was a huge hit with my little ones.  They had so much fun you would have thought it was Disneyland.  But the excitement was just about to begin.

We went to McDonalds.

(Yes!  I know!  So exciting!!!)

Funny thing is - it really was exciting - for them.

And this was such a good mom moment - one of those rare times when I realize I have done something right.

We stood in line and my little ones did not know what to order.  They did not know about Happy Meals.  They did not whine between chicken nuggets and cheeseburgers.

They felt so big to just *be there.*  Catsup in little cups?  How cool is that?  A TOY in the bag?  A boy toy and a girl toy?  For real?

And a play place, too?

Ben didn't even know where to put his shoes.  He didn't realize there is a shoe shelf - he thought he was supposed to line his shoes up nicely along the outside of the netting.  They were so excited to see other children there, and a baby too!  Oh my - life does not get better than this.

A part of me felt pathetic, as in, how sad is this?  My boy is five, and he doesn't remember ever going to McDonald's?  A part of me felt old, as in, "has it really been this long?  Where has the time gone?"  I used to be a regular back when I only had three little ones.  It was a cheap way to socialize - the three of them couldn't even finish two $1 sandwiches at that point.

But another part of me felt great, as in, "Really?  I have succeeded in growing children in my America, into the latter part of 2011, and they don't know they have the right to whine for ice cream at Mickey D's?"

I've heard so many grown-ups complain this year because they don't know what to give the children in their lives:  "They aren't excited about anything," they say.  "They've already got it all," another grandmother told me.  "My toys won't interest them."

Now, I have no room to be pompous - my floors are cluttered with toys as I type.  My children have so much more than they truly need in the toy department, and my husband and I have no delusions that we can keep our children from all forms of materialism.  We're all greedy over something.

But we have chosen a fairly simple life for our little ones, purposefully.  No cable, no Wii, no network television with hyped marketing.  There's nothing wrong with those things, so please don't think I'm judging (except for the hyped marketing comment.)  I'm not.  I think we would enjoy any of those things in another season.  There's just so many interesting things going on with so many children and so many ages living here - that we don't miss the things we don't include.  Like McDonalds.  They'd never asked, I'd never taken them.

There is an answer to children who are already bored with the stuff of life:  give them less things, and more of you.

These little ones know about taking cans to church for the food pantries.  They know about sending packages and letters and praying for Compassion and World Vision kids.  They know how to pray for the hungry and the hurting.  (And okay, just so you know they're real, they have days where they fight like cats and dogs and turn up their noses at what I've made for supper and cry when they have to go to bed...around these parts we can construct a hierarchy of needs/wants/ownership very quickly when we are so inclined.)

But they didn't know about McDonalds, and they didn't know they deserved it.  They both said "thank you, mommy, for taking us to McDonalds," from the back seat on the way home.  Without prompting.  I was stunned.

That doesn't make me feel  better than anyone else, because I have my failings along with every other mother on the planet. 

But it does give me hope, and makes me feel very grateful to the Lord for these precious little ones He's given me to raise.  I think if we knew how much influence we have been given in our children's lives, of just how much consequence we have for them (and I'm not really talking here about what they eat, but rather, in their hearts and spirits,) we would scarcely be able to get out of bed in the mornings - the responsibility and our role would seem too great.  It's simply....huge.  There are no guarantees with raising children - but we can guarantee that we will always be the foundation under their feet, and we can always turn them toward the Cross.

I may not have given my little ones Happy Meal entitlement; but they know they have the right to their dad and me (to relationship) at any time they have a want or need.  There's so much I can't give my children; but so much that I can. 

I hope that helps them grow up "healthy" in more ways than one.

What a deal!

I found another sticker carefully placed behind his other ear, bringing him to a grand total of .75 cents.

Toys gone wild...

I always suspected what the dinosaurs were doing after dark....

but I had no idea about the Toucan.

The babies at my house - Manx kittens

There are six new babies at our house.  The mama was a stray who had two kittens when she first came to my house.  A friend (Jill) and I gave her a big job at the time.  We asked her to nurse and help us raise five kittens (along with the two she was already nursing) which had been abandoned by the massive spring flooding in our area.  Jill and her family literally plucked the babies from the flood waters swirling around their house.  Jill's family had to evacuate their home, so we took the babies to give them a chance.  Jill's husband Brian brought them to me in a box via canoe.  The Humane Society was simply overwhelmed with all of the flooding, so we could not take them there.

Well, with this mama cat's help and a few weeks of intermittent bottle feeding, all of the babies grew strong and homes were found for them.

(Dare I tell you what my inventive children named the mama?  Phoopie.  Yes.  Phoopie Cat.  I think they named her that because they want to hear me open the door and call "Here Phoopie.  Come here, Phoopie Cat.  Privately, I call her Thia.)

We called that first batch our "limited edition flood kittens."  Kind people took them in.  (Another one of my good friends, Julie, took two.  I could have kissed her.  :)  )

Jill very generously offered to pay to have the mama spayed, but since the mama is a manx, with no tail, I asked if we could allow her to have one batch of kittens first..  I was dying of curiosity to see if she would have tail-less babies.  The community tom cats were happy to oblige.

Phoopie had her babies a week ago.  Six babies.  And four of them are tail less!  They are so cute, some with long hair and an almost grey/white tabby siamese look about them.  There is one orange baby (already named Quackers) and he has a tail.   These babies are so unique I wanted you to get a glimpse of them too.  So, without further ado, here they are.  Are you ready for the cuteness?  Manx kittens:

Wow.  Nothing so fierce as a one week old kitten, eh?

Same kitten as above.  He looks almost like a little lamb.

Phoopie has taken up residence on my backporch, way back underneath a shoe rack.  Today was the first day I let the children hold the babies.  We wanted to be sure that she had established a nursing relationship with all of them.  She's a pretty good mama to her babies.  It's going to be fun watching these unique little ones grow.  Have you ever seen a manx cat?  What can you tell me about them?

Reason #2094 that I'm glad I'm a mom.

 There are little bits of joy lying around my days that make me say, "I'm glad I'm a mom." 

A well-loved, bedraggled, stuffed ducky napping on a mattress of dinner rolls, covered with a paper-towel blankie?    Yeah.  That's something that I spy, unexpectedly, that brings definite delight.