It’s TRUE!

That ago old adage that I’ve heard since birth uttered from parents, “This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you” IS TRUE!  Be warned.  Be afraid.  Be very afraid.  Parenting is not easy, but it is worth it 27 gazillion times more than the pain it brings.  Yesterday was the first time I lived through “this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you” from the parenting side of the equation.  Details need to be kept to a minimum, but a HUGE decision was made by my husband and myself that not only affects one of our children, but is one of those examples to all of our children who will remember forever, “When mom and dad ask you to do something… they mean it.”

I think I cried more than the child did.  My husband called a couple of times throughout the day and asked, “How are you doing?” not how is the child doing.  The child will be fine… and stronger for it, we hope.  I was a mess.  I always want to be known as the dream builder, not the dream crusher…. but sometimes when we see discrepancies between what we have taught and how the child is behaving…. dreams have to be put on hold.  We have to go in reverse for a bit and re-learn a few character issues that were obviously taken too lightly.  Delay is not denial… I learned that from my baby sister.  It applies here.  Delay is also dumb when we are not getting our own way… which leads us back to character issues AGAIN.

This reminds me of when my mother, in a flustered and frustrated situation, would tell us, “Go to your room and holds hands with yourself.”  When I became a mother, I completely understood the meaning of that.  I changed it up a bit for the next generation and have been known to relay loudly, “Go to your room and pray to Jesus that He makes you nice.  And don’t come out until He does.”  It’s all good.

It’s all about character.  How you behave when no one is watching is KEY.  Priorities are KEY. Being obedient is KEY.  Not just for our kids, but for all of us.  Blessing follows obedience…. every stinkin’ time.  God is so good.

 

Father’s Day! Two-thousand-twelve (twelve…twelve….twelve)

Nora and her second Father’s Day with her Daddy.  Rick and his second Father’s Day with his Colombian princess.  She wrote him a beautiful card, “Thank you for being my dad. I love you!”  Brought tears to my eyes when I think of how blessed she is to have him as her Daddy.

During church this morning, I realized for the first time that I’m thankful to another father…. in South America… who fathered a little girl who was destined for our family…. and destined to do GREAT things for eternity through her testimony.  A father whom I’ll probably never meet.  But a father whose life impacted our family GREATLY.  Thank you, birth father, for your precious gift to us.  I silently said his full name and prayed a blessing on him.

We spent the day with my Dad up at my parent’s house with most of our family (minus one child who was camping) and my brother’s family.  The line of cards was the longest I’ve seen in a while.  Lot’s of love and sentiments.  Our family is blessed beyond measure with godly fathers for generations!

At lunch, we all shared a memory of our dad… the stories varied from saving a daughter from swarming ants, to removing socks full of fleas, to cleaning up a crib smeared with *unmentionable* smelliness…. and those were the first three stories.  I felt like we were stuck in a Green Acres episode down on the boondocks.  Seriously?  These were the only happy Father’s Day memories???  I jumped in next with a story of my dad fixing the most amazing dinner, in my humble 5-year-old opinion, of popcorn and sliced apples.  I was SOOO impressed with his culinary skills!  More stories followed of kids being swung up on the roof and slammed into the side of the house first….. dad reading the Bible every morning…. being chased and tickled… being impressed with dad’s ice skating skills…. and dads who dressed up like a woman and Peter Pan (with tights).  It was all quite amusing.  Nora told the story of the day she met her Daddy and he cried tears of joy and almost made her cry and then he made a funny gulping noise.  (Love it!)

Dads play such a critical role in the lives of their children…. as examples and role models for their sons… and as admirers, protectors and guardians for their daughters.  Thankfulness permeates my soul as I realize the quality of the fathers in my family… solid men of integrity and strength through good times and bad.  All following the heavenly Father and leading the way to Him. Thanks, Dad.  Thanks, Honey.  Thanks, Rob.

So blessed!

 

Keep Your Small Children Off the Streets!

It’s that time of my life again…. I’m getting old fast.  My little blond haired son who stuttered and yelled every word while he ran instead of walking anywhere…. just got his driver’s permit.  He was three-years-old about six months ago.  How does this keep happening to me?  In the past few years, every time he would comment on my driving (like suggesting that I could have made it through the light I stopped at) I would tell him to add two more months past his 16th birthday for a possible driving date.  Funny how he stopped commenting about six or eight months ago…. hoping I would forget all the months that were added. I have not.  What do you think I am?  Old?

Before my 15 1/2-year-old got his permit, I mentioned to my husband that I’m not real comfortable riding with my eldest son behind the wheel.  The last time he drove the van was in 1999 and HE WAS THREE!  He hit a fire hydrant and the van got a hole bashed in the rear bumper. Yes, he went in reverse AND drive!  It’s all still so clear in my motherly-horror-of-horrors-memory.  Back to my comment to my husband.  He responded as a more-than-confident father, “He’s a great driver. He’s a guy. He’ll do fine.  He’s my son.”  I rolled my proverbial eyeballs. Our 18-year-old daughter did an involuntary sputter/choke/laugh.  She then questioned, “What does Dad know that the insurance companies don’t know?”  GREAT question.

Thankfully, my eldest son actually IS a confident and safe driver so far.  We have not ventured onto the highway yet, but his success in parking lots and side streets is quite good.  I’m actually feeling more confident now than when my very nervous and cautious daughter started this process three years ago. 

Two student drivers down.  Two to go.  God help us!

Yet Another Tribute to Mr. Thrifty

It’s Tuesday night.  $2 night at the cheap theater Silver Saver Cinema here in Phoenix.  Our youngest son doesn’t really have a tough task talking his father into accompanying him to the movies on Tuesday nights.  It’s becoming more regular that date night.  (I just realized that….. and that’s no good!)  Tonight was nothing out of the ordinary… Jack Black playing in Gulliver’s Travels.  They did invite me, but I simply could not bear to see a brilliant Jonathan Swift story blown to bits by Jack Black. That’s a big NO, THANK YOU!

So as Pop and his son are getting ready to leave, some thrift-mocking occurred, primarily showered on my dear husband by myself and my 17-year-old protégé  daughter.  I inquired if he was saving us money by taking the “IT’S SHOW TIME” large, refillable KFC-style popcorn buckets that he saves and stores in our closet. Seriously, I think some have been there for years.  Imagine the dust and bugs in them….. gross me out.  He laughed and said, “Not any more.”  WHAT?  Yes, he brought one the last time he and our youngest son did the $2 Tuesday deal.  He placed it up on the counter for his refill and the manager exclaimed, “So, you haven’t been here in over a year!”  Oh my word!  I’m so glad I wasn’t there.  I didn’t bother asking if they refilled it or not.  I thought those were refillable only on the same visit.  More-than-a-year later is stretching the same visit clause.  But even after the manager’s comment…… they are still in our closet.  Here, look:

Rick, if you read this blog, can you please answer a few questions for my readers?

1.  Did the manager refill the more-than-a-year-old bucket with popcorn?

2.  If he did not, why are they still in the closet?

3.  Were all the funny parts in Gulliver’s Travels in the preview?

Thanks, Hon. XOXOXO

Flashback Friday!

Well, tomorrow is Friday… but Flashback Thursday did not sound as good as Flashback Friday.  Anyway, our younger son who is the one sporting the orthodontic headgear has had the contraption on his face non-stop since he got it.  I didn’t think he would be this diligent, especially after the first night when he said it made his entire top row of teeth hurt!  Tonight I found out why he is wearing it every moment he can…. my husband calculated how much it will cost if he has to wear it for the full nine months…. and he told Keeve that he will PAY HIM if he gets it off early!  Bribery is alive and well in my God-fearing home. And can I just add here that money talks in this house!

This reminded me of another bribe-gone-bad from a few years back.  Both my boys were scheduled at the dentist on the same morning.  The dentist looked at our older son’s teeth and announced that one tooth, which was already loose, needed to be pulled.  He quoted me $60 to pull the loose tooth.  I phoned my husband to give him the update and he asked to talk to our son.  They talked.  Then hung up.  I asked what was going on!  My money-saving husband told our son that he would pay him $30 to pull the tooth himself!  A savings of $30!  Of course, our son was all for the $30 tooth pulling plan and started pushing and prodding the loose tooth.

Back I went to the other son in the next room and sat with him during his cleaning.  After a while, son#1 called out my name, “MOM!”  I went in there to discover a bloody hand holding the prized $30 tooth.  I was not surprised.

After cleaning #2 son’s teeth, the dentist reappeared in the room of son #1 who was still holding his freshly extracted canine.  The dentist was a bit surprised (and probably sad at losing and easy $60) and had a peak in my boy’s mouth.  His next comment made me laugh all the way home (just like the little wee-wee-wee piggy!)  “Son, you pulled the wrong tooth.”  It was all okay in the giant dental picture, as it was coming out soon and was loose as well. 

So we arrived home with the $30 tooth still in his head and a free tooth in his hand.  My husband gave him two days to pull the other one, or the $30 deal was off. At the end of day two the money exchanged hands and the Big Indian Tooth Fairy (my husband) was busy twice in one week!

Oh, the joys of parenting with purpose!

Happy B-day, Rickey!

Today is my husband’s 43rd birthday so I thought I’d share some photos of him at what he does best.  This first example is “Being Cool.”  See how he’s instructing his fine young men to be cool too.  It’s an important trait to master.  Being cool.  It’s also all about crossing your arms and pushing your muscles to look bigger than they actually are.  Being cool.  And sunglasses.  Not just any sunglasses… cool sunglasses, like the ones Rick is sporting here.  He purchased them in a women’s boutique in Sedona when the supremely awesome sales lady told him that men from Scottsdale buy her glasses all the time…. and, get this…. that he looks like Elvis.  She could have sold him bedazzled capri jeans for himself!!!  Being cool!

Here, we have Rick protecting his most valuable asset, his beautiful 16 year old daughter. Being scary, that’s what this is called.  It’s important when you have a 16 year old daughter.  Being scary.  Rick looks kind of teddy-bear-ish in this picture, but that’s because you can’t see his concealed weapon that he only shows to teenage boys. Being scary.  He has given his daughter a stack of his business cards to hand out in case any teenage boys want to talk to her.  It’s an easy out for her, “Here’s my dad’s number.  You can talk to him first…”  It hasn’t actually happened, probably because the truth about the concealed weapon has been leaked. Being scary. He’s good at it, if need be.

This is what he does best, here in this last picture of the photo tribute for his 43rd birthday… Being fun. The untranied eye may not be able to decipher it, but let me help you. See how his mouth is? He has either just said something funny, or is in the middle of saying something funny.  Being fun.  This may not seem like an all-encomposing-highly-important trait, but it is.  Being fun.  It was actually a requirement to marry into our family.  Being fun.

Happy Birthday, Rickey!  We all love you!

The RR Camping Saga

 

Photo by T. Robertson

Yes, the men and boys arrived home safely yesterday from two nights in the woods.  This was a highly frustrating trip for those who like comfort and order.  It was a highly amusing time for those who like to laugh in the face of confusion.  And it was a highly entertaining time for ALL the boys.  They’ll remember this trip for the rest of their lives.

The Royal Rangers (fondly known as Ritalin Rangers) from the Arizona District had their Grand Fall Pow Wow with several churches participating from around the state.  Poo Bah Poo Bah.  My dear husband is one of many commanders at our church and arranged for our RR boys to go. The plan was to leave on Friday around noon and head to a Boy Scout’s camp near the Grand Canyon, 3.5 hours northwest of us.  Then Tuesday they get an email that states that the camp in closed for construction and the Pow Wow had been moved to Payson, 1.5 hours east-north-east of us.  OK.  No problem.  Then THURSDAY they got an email that said it was indeed back at the Grand Canyon camp.  FINE.  Off they went on Friday.

 

Photo by T. Robertson

Can I just add here that on Thursday night close to midnight, my dear husband handed me the grocery list for the 26 campers and asked me to put quantities beside the items…. AND put the list in the order of the Walmart aisles.  Well, one look at the list and I started crossing off stuff.  Saturday morning breakfast included eggs, bacon, pancakes, syrup, bagels, cream cheese, coffee, hot chocolate, milk and orange juice.  No names mentioned, but the list was made by two of the cushy-hotel-campers.  I chiseled it down to pancakes, syrup, bacon, coffee and milk.  There.  (And there were no fruits or vegetables on the entire list for five meals…….)  I digress.  And yes, I put it in Walmart order and saved my dear husband at least two ours of wandering time.

SO, they get up to the Grand Canyon camp to find the gates locked… and an Under Construction sign.  Sigh.  They couldn’t just turn around and head to Payson because there was another truck load of boys and dads on their way.  For the next three hours they drove around and around and around looking for a camp ground.  By 9:30 p.m. they pulled off a lonely road into the trees and set up camp.  No bathrooms.  No running water.  My husband was in his Native Canadian Indian element… this is how he spent his summers growing up.  No big deal.  But for the clean-fingernail-crowd, it cramped their camping style.

They returned with smiles on their dirty, unshaven faces with every sleeping bag, foamy mattress and pillow WET!  Lovely.  I’m SOOOOOOOOOOOO glad it was a father-son trip.  :o)

Chip off the Ol’ Block

Here they are: The Block and the Chip.

Tonight at the dinner table, Keeve picked up a Bible Quiz card and read, “Why were Moses’ arms held up during the battle against the Amalekites?”  We all slapped the table and made the Bible Quiz buzzer noise.  (We have never participated in Bible Quiz, but we have good imaginations.)  Four of us answered at the same time, because we are a bit competitive.  The answer was: so the Israelites would win the war.  When Moses’ arms went down, the battle turned against the Israelites.

The story brought on questions.  How long did he hold his arms up before they figured out he needed help?  How do you think he held them up… straight up or in front?  How long can you hold your arms up? And thus the Crosby Competitive Spirit arose and the arm-holding-up contest began.  Five of us started… in 5 minutes, there were only two competitors left, Rick and Larisa.  After 15 minutes, Rick didn’t want to play anymore but wouldn’t put his arms down and lose.  He kept telling Larisa how stupid the game was and that she should just put her arms down.

“No!  I’m not a quitter!  YOU taught me that! Crosby’s aren’t quitters!” she emphatically answered, aiming her arms to the ceiling.

“But this is a stupid game.  It doesn’t matter if you quit stupid games,” Rick (arms in the air) tried to convince her.

“Then put your arms down,” she flatly stated, limbs pointed skyward.

“YOU put your arms down,” the mature father replied without relenting.

Rick kept complaining to me, because the game was my bright idea.  Whatever!  I put my arms down after five minutes because it was a stupid game.  Every time he complained, I answered, “Then put your arms down.”  He couldn’t do it.  My mother told me that women should let their men win at games once in a while… for their ego.  Obviously, I need to teach that truth to my daughter. 

Finally after a half hour, Rick snuck up behind Larisa and pushed her arms down, so his could go down too.  We declared Larisa the winner of the Holding Your Arms Up Contest.  And another successful family dinner goes down in the Crosby family history books.