I'll Just Go Have Coffee

When my kids were 13 and 3, I learned the power of coffee. Until that particular day, when they got into it together I would try and referee in the moment. Of course that didn't work because of the shrieking. Oh and little brother so ampped he hovered the room. A fifteen-minute situation would take up to two hours to completely be resolved. Sure the kids learned the moral lesson - finally. But I was left in an exhausted emotional puddle.

Who wouldv'e thought that ten years between siblings could be reduced to zero? They could tussle with the best of them. "She hooked at me!!!" "He touched my backpack!!!" And away they went - far past the speed of sound.

So on this particular spring day, they put it in first gear and I knew just where they were going, and it was fast. Rather than begin my usual conductor's warning, I found myself calmly grabbing my purse and the car keys, heading for the door. "I'm going for coffee while you guys figure this out," I said as if this were the most normal thing in the world, and smiled my way out the door.

I knew two important things. One, our eldest had been Red Cross certified for a few years. Two, she really wouldn't mortally harm her brother as much as she liked to hear him scream.

The nearest coffee shop was just down the hill, about 5 minutes away if you didn't hit a red light. I ordered a medium decaf mocha (no whip) and enjoyed it to the last drop while I caught up with the latest local newspaper. After a bit I checked my watch. I'd been gone about a half hour. A whole half hour without the screams and thumps.  My, this was nice.

After another 15 minutes I stood and stretched. Time to go home and get the jump on dinner prep. What a pleasant afternoon this had stayed.

I walked into a calm home with two happy siblings enjoying cartoons.

That's the day I stopped inserting myself into their scenarios. My my, the twins could handle things on their own! I could stay chill. And the times when things started to escalate, I just went and enjoyed another cup of coffee. Peace on earth at our house.

Pancake Love

I always wanted lots of children. As a child, I wrote stories that included elaborate illustrations of large families. Each child had a special characteristic and multiple drawings depicting them in action. As an adult, both of my children were hard to conceive and were long-awaited, joyful answers to prayer.

When our girl was ten years old, we were thrilled to learn that I was finally pregnant again. She joined in our excitement anticipating the new addition to our family. Mind you, she had been my one and only, had survived a horror of divorce and death of her birth father, rejoiced later in my marriage and thrilled to be adopted by that good guy. In her ten years, this little girl had already experienced another person's lifetime of loss and hope.

As the pregnancy moved along, we found out the new addition was going to be a little brother. I was beyond myself to realize I was going to be blessed to have "one of each".

Our girl also rejoiced as much as a third grader can. She drew us pictures, eagerly came to doctor appointments and earnestly crafted gifts for her soon-to-be-born brother.

In the midst of all the joy and hope, I sensed that something was going on within her. I truly believe God prompted me to ask her about this one day. I was careful and casual, and I must have done something right because the net take-away was that she wondered how I would be able to love her new baby brother without some of my love for her being subdivided.

We had the best chat! I told her that the love God gives everyone just keeps growing. In order to love someone else, nothing is taken away from those we already love. It's like a pile of pancakes. We already had a pile "this high" but with our new little guy coming along, God would pile it even higher.

That turned out to be just what she needed to hear.