Traci's Testimonials

I have talkative children. Out of five, I could safely say only one is quiet. Even then, once you get to know her...or better said, once she gets to know you, the silence is shattered by endless chatter. I like having communicative kids. My mom always said it was the quiet ones you had to worry about which is why she never worried about me. It wasn't supposed to be a compliment so much as a tongue-in-cheek statement but it gives me great comfort today. So far, I have no secretive children. Their lives are open audio books with no pause, stop, or removable batteries.  The Buddies have been especially blessed with the gabby gene. For the past 7 years, they have been vocalizing every thought and feeling that has passed through their little brains as it happens. When Buddy #2 was asked to hurry up in Gramma's bathroom, he couldn't understand why the sister wouldn't just use the other one. When Gramma explained they only had one washroom he innocently but irritatedly asked,

This past month my children have had the amazing privilege of going to the camp I attended in my youth. I was fortunate enough to attend a Christian school and youth group throughout the year but Camp Y.E.S. was the highlight of my summers. My children look doubly forward to it being that we live a fair distance from other church youth and they don't get to see them on a regular basis. This year, Hubby and I decided the kids shouldn't get to have all the fun. We wanted to go too! The 7-9 week "just happened" to fall on the last week of Hubby's holidays so we filled out our volunteer registration forms and prepared to be counsellors to our 3 youngest campers and a myriad of their new friends.  The week began on a bit of a bumpy note. As my girl and I sat in the main meeting place, aptly named "The Dome" for its spherically shaped roof, I noticed a look in her eyes.  It wasn't "fear" necessarily but uncertainty. She caught my quizzica

Yesterday, while I was in the process of baking Hubby's favorite shortbread cookies, the Weather Network warned of a possible tornado in our area. Where we live, tornados are not unheard of but they're not exactly commonplace. We're no Kansas. Nonetheless, I covered my petunias to protect them from any hail that may find its way into their beds (wouldn't want to waste that $10 I spent on them!) and called the kids inside just in case. I explained the weather situation in what I felt was a very apathetic tone of voice but when I said, "There's a remote possibility of a tornado. Better safe then sorry." My 8 year-old's brain heard, "IMPENDING DOOM! DUCK AND COVER!" She's a slightly excitable child. I went back to rolling my cookies. She started panicking. Every horrid image that could possibly be related to the destruction a tornado can bring immediately flooded the poor girl's mind. She started rambling about the roof been torn off, th

Sometimes there are weeks that don't want to end. My faith is tested, my patience tried, my character called into question. Sometimes a quick trip to the store turns into hours of time seemingly wasted. My mind retreats to home where dishes remain unwashed, laundry still wet, and floors not swept. Sometimes I worry. Bills need to be paid, family needs to be fed, relationships need to be maintained. Sometimes I get caught up in adult concerns.  But I have five non-adults in my care. Five still-dreaming, still-wishing, still-whimsical non-adults. Sometimes I get a glimpse of what my five non-adults think of my grown-up issues. Like when I've been forced to say, "Not today, I don't have the money," and been countered with, "Just go to the bank and buy some!" Or when I've foolishly admitted I can't do something to little ones who have heard Philippians 4:13 quoted incessantly to their own admissions of defeat.  (The true meaning of "judge not le

My youngest son is a jewel. He is sweet, considerate, and gentle. He is also very soft spoken which makes him completely unlike the rest of the family. When I need a quiet cuddle to calm my nerves after a hectic day he's my go-to guy. One thing that has consistently separated his personality from his twin's is his thoughtfulness. Buddy #1 tends to rush headlong into whatever suits his fancy whereas #2 (although two whole minutes #1's junior) seems to be the wiser brother. When Buddy #1 was hurling himself down the basement steps in a toy barrel reminiscent of Bobby Leach taking the plunge over Niagara Falls, Buddy #2 stood watching at the top of the steps then promptly tattled. Buddy #2 is content to always let Buddy #1 test the waters before he even dips in a toe. Like this spring when Buddy #1 thought it would be fun to walk on the ice in the neighbour's pool. Buddy #2 apparently watched for a minute or two to see if his buddy would sink. When he didn't, #2 though

As my children's teacher I called a sick day today. A sick day as in, "I am sick and tired of the mess in this house!" At Winter's end I always get a bit frantic about cleaning. As the sun begins to remember the North and the snow slinks away from its rays, its absence reveals the junk my yard kept hidden from me all season. I'm not sure why my driveway fancies juice boxes and broken plastic but it always has a nice stash come spring. Inside is even worse. Almost six months of cold, snow, and shut windows seems to make even inanimate objects scream to be set free. I like a clean house...no, I love a clean house, just ask my family. I was challenged about 4 years or 5 years ago to give my kids a quiz about what they think of me and write down their answers honestly. it had simple questions like, "What's your mom's favourite thing to do?" and "What does your mom do when she's bored?" Out of about thirty questions, more than half we

At the end of this month we celebrate my second born's tenth birthday. It's amazing that we even have a second born. Partially because my first pregnancy was so horrible that I swore I would never have another child and partially because I'm amazed I haven't killed her or sold her to gypsies yet. You know when your parents offhandedly say, "I hope you have a child just like you when you grow up..."? Mine said that but I'm pretty sure there was nothing offhanded about it. God listened. On March 30, 2003, I was blessed with an absolutely perfect *looking* child, She had hair so blonde it almost sparkled in the sunlight, a complexion so flawless she could've been mistaken for a porcelain doll. She had big round eyes as blue as the Caribbean Sea and colic. One night, three weeks into her little life, I was so sleep deprived I put her to rocking in her swing and drifted off. When she woke crying (probably not an hour later) I jumped up in sheer panic! I co