playing with a new camera...

camping, take II

Well, the weather was much better a couple of weeks ago in Chelan, but the company on this trip was pretty good. Cold, cloudy, damp, and drizzly didn't matter to this crew. But isn't that what camping with the cousins is supposed to be?

Behind the boys in this pic is a small portion of the HUGE sand dune at Cape Kiwanda. All the kids and dads (Jim and his brothers) climbed to the top. They LOVED it! Too bad the weather didn't cooperate enough to let them climb a second time.








Missing from all these pics? The teens! Oh well.

some days....

discipline n. (dĭs'ə-plĭn)
Training expected to produce a specific character or pattern of behavior, especially training that produces moral or mental improvement.
discipline tr.v.
To train by instruction and practice, especially to teach self-control to.

You know, it's the TRAINING part of the discipline that gets me in the day in/day out of life. It would be so much easier to simply skip that portion. Especially since it seems that I have some slow learners. Or at least those whose stubbornness mean it takes much longer to realize that "yes, Mommy really does mean it when she says..."

And yet, without the training, discipline fails. It is, after all, simply punishment when there is no training. (punish [puhn-ish] v. t. To impose a penalty upon; to afflict with pain, loss, or suffering for a crime or fault, either with or without a view to the offender's amendment; to cause to suffer in retribution; to chasten;) Our overflowing jails seem to be proof that punishment does nothing to train for moral or mental improvement.

Today I'm tired. Today, for the first time ever, Logan threw a major temper tantrum for his speech therapist because he didn't like being told to sit still and pay attention. And for the first time in a long time, I really just wanted to throw in the towel. Give up. Quit. Because it seems that the time I am investing in training is not getting results. Oh, I know that's not true, but this morning it sure felt like it. We practice. We remind. We praise for success. We train when there's failure. And we try again. And again. And again. But this? Well, this was beyond. And I'm frustrated.

Fortunately, the afternoon was better. Things settled down, and he can tell me what happened, where he made wrong choices. He told me he was sorry for being so naughty. I know he doesn't like being told what to do. But that's not a choice--life works that way, even when you're as old as I am. Others tell me what to do and I must choose to obey. Or risk discipline! It happens at school, at work--it's part of life. The sooner he comes to terms with this, the better off we'll be.

Now he's tucked into bed, sleeping quietly. Again I am reminded of how I must seem to God, so much like my child in desperate need of training. I am blessed that God never chooses to punish, only to continue disciplining in hopes of producing character, moral, and mental improvement. Tomorrow is a new day. And for that, both of us are grateful.

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:22-23 ESV

Chelan!

sometimes the best adventures with Daddy...

...are when Mommy's not looking!

Almost 2 weeks ago we had our first camping trip of the summer. But until I can get my 4 C's in order (children, children's cameras, computer, and camera cord), I can't post any pictures. Sigh. I've been trying for days to get everything in the same spot at the same time, and it's not working. Will try again today... I HAVE to get it done before this weekend, or I'll have way too many camping pictures to post.

Off to see if I can find cameras of sleeping children without waking them. Or maybe I should wake them. It is after 9 already...

Hmmmmmmm.........

More later today (hopefully!)

out of the mouths of babes

Ryan and Logan are both growing (finally!) and they needed new underwear. Fred Meyer is having a sale, so today when we stopped I let the boys choose what characters they wanted. Logan chose some Star Wars underwear...and this is what I heard on the way home:

Logan: "Look!"
Ryan: "What?"
Logan: "Jesus! Mommy, Jesus is on my underwear!"

Shaking with silent convulsions since I wasn't going to laugh out loud, I said, "Somehow I doubt Jesus is on your underwear. We'll look when we get home though."

Once we got home, we opened the packages, and sure enough, to a 4 year old, it was Jesus. Otherwise known as Quin-gon Jinn.....

Oh, the things they come up with!