It’s my pleasure to introduce you to this week’s guest blogger. Jan is a kindergarten teacher, mom to four boys, and wife to a fantastic bearded husband. She pretends to understand Pokemon and to enjoy playing Lego. Jan gets most of her exercise teaching gym to her kindergarten students and rushing between classes with her trusty coffee cup in hand. She is proficient at eating M&Ms in secret. She blogs at Tough Bananas, and you can follow her on twitter @moyermama.
Just Say the Grace Already
Our mealtimes have a certain level of hysteria to them, but we do make a point to gather together first to say our thanks to God. Sometimes we tag team with a son and a parent, sometimes we sing a pray together as a family, and often we nail down the one who has been the most demanding and insist that he leads us.
Frequently, the 4YO takes over, and if he’s stuck for new items, he just repeats the same short list:
“Thank you for our family, and for Jesus, and heaven, and Gramma and Granpa, and our family, and heaven.” If he’s feeling really inspired to continue, he just looks around the room and starts thanking God for the kettle, the TV clicker, the windows, until another brother shuts it down with a robust “A-MEN.”
Today we opted for a song. It involves raising your arms and posing like Superman. The boys like the change of pace and the fun side of praying this way. I began with gusto to sing “Thank you God for our friends,” when 6YO son squawks out, “I can see your armpit hair! Look guys, see how hairy she is!”
Even the toddler, who had squeezed his eyes totally shut and was focussed on getting to his grilled cheese, joined in with the chorus of small boys cackling at Mommy. Poor, well-intentioned, if not carefully groomed Mommy.
I chose to finish up the prayer song solo, now with extra vibrato, “ThaAAAank you GoooOOood, A-MEN.” And then calmly informed them:
And I’m quite sure He did. The follow up questions I wasn’t able to answer quite as confidently, but how do any of us know for certain if Jesus cut the cheese?
YOUR TURN:
What dinner table traditions do you have now?
What were the dinner table rules you had as a child?
Kids notice everything. EVERYTHING.
Mostly stuff I wish they didn’t.
Answer: When Jesus DOES cut the cheese, it is so good and great that angels line up to be in it’s general direction.
Oh! I will use that answer next time. Because there WILL be a next time.
HA!. Pretty sure he did; fully human, and all that. More importantly, what a great example for your boys of rolling with the punches! Love it.
Thanks, Jennifer. Having four boys means you can’t take much very too seriously, for sure.
I cringe when my 6yo “pets” my leg hair while we read at bedtime. I just mark it up to another great parenting moment – giving my sons realistic expectations of feminine beauty.
Yes, or when our second born says he likes my arms because “they are so squishy.”
Yeah! Another mom with boys and Lego who sings with them at the table! I thought I might be the only one. Mine are getting older so the fun times are when they would rather be laughing then singing and are trying to keep a straight face by looking anywhere but at me, desperately trying to speed us up (nope) or pulling an ultra serious grimace which only makes me grin and them lose it anyway… Good times!
It’s my secret goal to be that really embarrassing mom. So far, so good.
Love it, thanks Jan! I remind my 3 boys often about the miracle of keeping them fed. My 8 year old son sneaks up behind me and punches my butt because he likes to watch it jiggle…ugh! And yes, Jesus heard you and will give you time to shave soon!
At our table we play a “game” we call 5 Things – everyone has to share 5 unique things they did throughout the day.
We’ve done that with 3 things. Or I make them “tell it like a story”. Soon upping it to 5 things. Sometimes I wrestle them and won’t unpin until they tell me something about their day.
Nice!
– Boys are boys 🙂
What a nice blog!
Thanks! I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
Reblogged this on quirkywritingcorner and commented:
Haven’t we all had days when we’re not perfectly groomed? That’s the very day the pastor and his wife come for a surprise visit; or you just run to the corner store for milk dressed in purple lounge pants with an orange top, and run into an old friend who just moved to your neighborhood.
So many days. So many ungroomed days.
That was brilliant.