Yesterday my Aunt Michelle posted on her facebook page a fabulous boy story about her two grandsons.  She was cooking in the kitchen as her five and 3 year old Grand babies played outside.  The younger child ran inside and cried out to his Grandma, "Shane just peed on the side of the house!"  She poked her head outside and asked her first born grandson, "Did you just pee on the side of the house?"  He said no.  But the little one cried out again, "Yes he did!  I put my tongue on it and it tasted like pee."

Fabulous! 

Early on in my blogging my dad pointed out that I may not want to write in detail some of my children's struggles and embarrassing exploits.  One day, after all, they will be grown, desire some semblance of privacy, want to date a special lady or interview for a respectable job (we hope!)  Will the US Senate offer Brody a seat, knowing that he kicked Sammie in the chest at the Kindergarten Family Picnic?  Will Caleb's future bride struggle with jealousy over his toddler-esque vow to marry Faith at 3?  Where, O where, to set the boundary lines?

So, I have this "friend"... whose son absolutely melted down this afternoon.  He's in Kindergarten and coincidentally goes to a three day program just like our Brody.  On his days home from school his mom puts together some home schooling activities, very similar (identical in fact) to the ones we do on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Today she encouraged her young charge to get his little work pages done at the breakfast table, which he did without any trouble.  Afterwards she knelt down beside him (have I mentioned what an inspiration this mother is to me?  I mean, really...) looked him in the eyes and said, "We're going to have a fun day today, it's even your day to play your star wars DS, but I need to tell you that I have three different little home-school breaks set up around the house for you. When I call you I need you to close your video game or put down your legos, or whatever it is you are playing with, and come.  Do we have an agreement?"  He shook his blond little head (we do live in California and go to a heavily Dutch school, so don't jump to any conclusions.)

And we they were off!

Mid-morning they went to their swim lessons at the local pool and her son started to cry at the idea of putting away his game to swim.  But with much cajoling he swam, and had a wonderful time (she tells me.)  When they got home, this child's dear, long-suffering, joyful mother called him to the table to work on his Valentine's for school.  Knowing how easily he tires at a desk, she laid out only a few cards, had him write his name, and pick out a candy for each friend.  But the child cried over the injustice of how unfair the world is.  "You know I just want to p-way.... Why do you a-ways t-wy to make me sad?  My wife is the worst!  You do this, Mom!  You know I just want to p-way!  You do this to me!"

Of course this Mama lovingly talked him (once again) through the truth of how wonderful his life is.  She reminded him of their agreement that he only had a couple of short "work-breaks" and could go right back to play if he did his work joyfully.  This child's fit continued as real tears fell hot and fast.  The video game was put away for the day and distracting puzzles and books were brought out.  To no avail.  The tears and the words of injustice continues to flow.  

Okay, writing this in the third person is too hard.  The point is this... We had another hard day.  He's sleeping in my bed even now as I write this.  My back is aching and my heart hurts for him.  And yet... and yet I still feel refreshed to keep fighting the good fight; to press on; to not grow weary; and to keep creatively and logistically working to find ways to figure out this special boy, to win him day in and day out, and to trust the Lord to complete what He has begun in this precious child.

At bedtime tonight (before his "Sca-wy Foughts" made him unable to sleep in his own bed) he said he was sorry for the mean things he said.  He told me that I'm the best mom in the world and that it's just so hard to not want to be playing all the time.  I agreed with him but told him that learning and practicing and growing is also a wonderful part of his job.  I asked him to trust me on this one.  I hope he will.  O, I hope he will.

He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.  (Isaiah 40:11)

I know you have special little lambs to lead as well - if you are a mother or a grandma who's only with them part time.  Either way, what a task.  What a blessed task.  We have been appointed their loving caregivers... for such a time as this.