It's a pillow. It's a pet.

It’s a pillow pet!

Bella recently got a pillow pet for her birthday.  My brother and sister-in-law got it for her.  Bless them.  She loves it.  It’s the purple and pink unicorn one.  Bella named it Lylas, which makes me laugh.  Where did that come from?  Perhaps she has read some of the notes I passed to my friends in sixth grade that I ended in L.Y.L.A.S. (love you like a sister)?  Anyway, Lylas the unicorn has been a faithful napping and sleeping companion since her arrival. 

Bella REALLY wanted this pillow pet.  It got me to thinking…how did she get this desire?  How did Lylas make it onto the wish list?  

Bella saw commercials on T.V.  Or maybe it was that Toys-R-Us ad I let her look at.  She knows other people who have them.  In other words, the world told her she needed a pillow pet.  She fell for it-hook, line, and sinker.  She’s four.  

Please note, I am not writing about the evilness of Pillow Pets.  They are precious.  I am thrilled that my wonderful brother and sis-in-law got one for her.  They did it out of love.  Even better, they were at her party to celebrate and see her delight when she opened it.  Gift giving can be a powerful way to show love.  There is nothing wrong with that, AT ALL.  It just got me thinking about a bigger issue.

Why would my child so easily fall for what the world says is cool and necessary?  

Ahem.  Enter conviction.

Maybe it’s when I come home and tell Andy about how so-and-so’s house is way better/bigger/nicer than ours.  Maybe it was the complaining about how I couldn’t afford that new dress from Kohl’s that I wanted to wear to Cornerstone Family Ministries Fall Fundraiser.  It had ruffles and was in a jewel-tone, and those things are hot for fall.  Then after not getting this dress, I continued to complain about how I hate everything in my closet and the stuff I don’t hate, I can’t fit into because I recently had a baby (and I like ice cream).  

It was said in my Mom-to-Mom Bible Study at church (I am sure I will talk more about this later, because it is rocking my world.) that our need to be “perfect” makes an impact on our children.  It was brought up that this can be especially true for daughters.  When I express that I am not rich enough, stylish enough, skinny enough-SHE IS LISTENING.   

So, how am I ever going to “fix” this?  How can I raise children who focus not on their bank accounts or jean size, but on the fact that God rejoices over them with singing?  That they can live in this world, and not be of it?

I am going to pray.  I am going to think about what I do and say.  I am going to try to live this way myself.  I will be thankful for God’s grace in my parenting.  I will pray for a community of believers-my parents and in-laws, youth ministers, color guard (or whatever activity they choose) instructors, Sunday School teachers-who will pour their lives into my children, the same way that was done for me.

Pillow Pets are so clever and cute I wish I had thought of them myself.  New dresses are fun.  Losing those extra pounds is healthy.  They are just not the most important thing.

And now, because you might need a visual aid:

Lylas, Bella, and Hayes

I am so glad they are mine.  Yes, even Lylas.

My First Post (complete with a list)

So, um, I have a blog. 

I am an avid blog reader.  I have my favorites and I read them daily.  It's like checking Facebook or shaving my legs...the day just doesn't seem quite right if I don't do it.  So, after feeding my children and getting coffee (more on that later) I sit and read my blogs.  Someone recently asked me if I check the news too.  Nope.  Blogs are good enough for me.

After seeing this,  Andy told me I should jump in and start my own blog.  I briefly considered.  Then other people started saying the same thing.  Then something inside of me really wanted to give it a try. I do this, though, with reservation.  I feel like I should express these thoughts so we all start on the same page (oh, no pun intended) and so expectations aren't too high. 

My reservations/thoughts about blogging in the form of a beautiful list:

1.  Blogs are public.  Very public.  It can kinda be scary to put yourself out there.  I have noticed that as people get farther away from face-to-face conversation (emailing, texting, blogging) they get brave (read: CARELESS) with what they say.  I do not want to be careless.   I do not want to put more out there than I should.  Note to self:  think first, blog second.

2.  Technology and I are not friends.  I have a college degree and can barely make a power point presentation.  Seriously. 

3.  The name.  Oh, the name.  This was harder than naming my children.  Ridiculous, right?  I wanted something clever, somewhat unique, easy to remember, personal, but not too personal (see #1).  I was alone with my brain, pen, and piece of paper and I went to work brainstorming.  Something with my name?  Alliteration?  Something "mommy"?  I came up with a few decent ones.  One was really cute, but was taken.  Great, another problem.  I needed the perfect name that wasn't already taken by someone else.  This list-making/thinking session went on for quite some time.  If you know me (and chances are you do if you are reading this first post) you will know that I have a hard time letting things go.  Others may call it obsession; I call it passion.  I needed a blog name and I was not giving up until I had one.  Finally, at 2 a.m., I was just tired.  If there is anything I like more than completing a task, it's sleeping.  So, I told myself I could think more tomorrow morning, but only after my coffee.  Wait, wait...that was it.  I loved it.  My blog, complete with name, was born.

4.  I must have something to write about.  Kind of a biggie.  I think I do.  I want to write about important things-faith, family, things I've learned.  I also will include things that aren't so important, because great deals at Target deserve their time in the limelight too.  And of course, I will have tons of pictures and stories about two certain adorable children.

I have a blog.  Come back and read.  Comment.  Enjoy.  I will write more for you...just not before my coffee.