Hold Me Up

I had a pretty difficult week last week.  Nothing over the top specific that made it that way.  Hormones? Stress catching up to me? Over tired? Spiritual attack? Fighting sickness?  Scott even said I officially started getting him worried.  Glad to hear that I’m not such a roller coaster all the time and it even got his attention.  And for the 10^th time, “No, I’m not pregnant, babe!” ;) 

On Thursday, the fog started to noticeably lift after some friends prayed for me at my Moms Together meeting.  I had long been feeling a bit discouraged about something and apparently this was the time to unload.  My friend, Audra, asked a simple question.  “How are you?”  Instead of ignoring the simmering anguish in my heart and putting on my mask with a cheerful, “Fine! How are you?”  I chose to be real.  To be honest.  Sometimes people can ask that question and you can tell they don’t want an honest answer unless you are indeed, actually fine.  They just mean to be polite and don’t want to be bothered with a half-hour-long answer.  She’s not like that though.  And poor girl, a half-hour answer is what she got.  Or it felt like it anyway. 

So here is what was on my heart to share, feelings that have been building for quite awhile.  My sweet Levi.  I don’t mean to share only about my stresses, the worries of a mother, the struggles that he goes through… but these do threaten to take up residence in my spirit.  And every so often, after realizing it, I need to clear out their presence.  Unload.  Cast over my cares AGAIN.  Here I am in tears again because I’m bugged that I can’t live in constant faith and peace in this area (or several others).  Many parents struggle with more difficult situations, but these are mine.  

Lately, I’ve been more acutely reminded of Levi’s delays.  The first is potty training.  It sounds dumb, right? He’ll learn when he is able.  Stop stressing about it.  In all honesty, I hate potty training.  And I knew Levi would be the biggest challenge in that department.  My philosophy is, wait until their ability to pull up and down their pants, climb on the seat, etc. needs little to no assistance.  So in my mind, he still isn’t ready.  The special ed. preschool that he attends four days a week, however, started the process ready or not.  They ask that the kids come in pull-ups and take them to the potty on a specific schedule, and we are being told that he is potty trained at school.  Well, this victory doesn’t carry over to home.  He doesn’t communicate the need to go BEFOREHAND, so on more than one occasion I have had a joyful little boy come to me with a soiled and smeared lower half, pulling me to the bathroom where, along the trail, I find spots on the carpet, a brown toilet seat, a diaper in the corner.  He looks up at me expectantly asking for M&Ms because he sat.  AGH!  We’ve had very little success with good timing at home since we are often on the go.  And for those of you who don’t know what Levi wears on a daily basis, he’s got clunky braces on and oversized shoes and a strappy set up that circles his waist, wraps towards his inner thighs, down his calves, and hooks on his laces to secure half-way up his shins.  Did you catch all that?  We need to undo the strap concoction with every potty attempt.  And then of course do it back up.  He definitely can’t tackle any part of his set up by himself.  I have no choice but to just keep taking it one day at a time.  Try when he wants to try.  Hope that his sense of timing improves as he gets older.  I need plenty of warning to undo his get up.  Wait patiently.  Recently, little brother Carter has taken an interest and has had some success going on the potty.  And of course this sparks Levi’s fire to try longer and more frequently because he wants those M&M treats too!  So for I-don’t-know-how-long, you can find me crouched in front of the toilet, cheering on a little boy longing to catch up.  I’ll say it again: I hate potty training.  And now we are involving Carter.  This brings me to delay #2.

Speech.  Carter has taken his time in branching out in communication.  He has been fine getting by with a limited variety of words, and it hasn’t concerned us.  Now he is trying to mimic a lot more and he recently surprised us by counting out objects.  I knew this time would come - the time when little brother surpasses his older brother in speech, to name one.  They are pretty even right now, but in a matter of weeks, Carter will take off.  I feel pulled between two emotions: happiness that I can talk with Carter and hear his cute sentence formations and tone imitations, and sadness that Levi is being passed up by his younger brother.  What numbs the sting is knowing that Levi, at this moment, is (in the best sense) completely oblivious of this unnatural situation and still as happy and joyful as ever.  Meanwhile, we celebrate Levi’s new words that seem to come up daily.  We are working on stringing them together to form cohesive sentences.  Sometimes I catch myself feeling discouraged, then I remember how far he has come in even a year.    

Delay #3: physical stuff.  I mentioned the braces and straps he wears.  Their intention is to force his feet out straight and to improve range of motion so he will walk on his flat feet.  We are about to schedule his first botox injection (weird, I know).  This will paralyze portions of his way over-toned muscles so he can build up other areas to balance things out.  This step leads to more appointments, painful injections, and an uncertainty of it doing anything long-term.  We’ve also been told that in a few years he will most likely be eligible for a surgery that will clip his muscle because he is such an extreme case.  Nothing in these scenarios is comforting.  My boy will feel pain and I need to view it as a means to an end.  Not knowing if his physical therapies are really benefiting him is a tough pill to swallow.  But we have to try and keep trying. 

Delay #4: school.  This isn’t a specific delay.  It is where he is based on his delays.  I might burn some bridges in what I am about to say by implication, but this is my turn to share.  This is me being honest, and you can love me or leave me. ;)  He is in a public elementary school where they have a special ed. preschool.  He gets services provided by the state, and this is part of the package.  While I believe the schedule and routines are very beneficial for him, I have no desire for him to stay in this public system.  Last year when I blogged about Levi’s cerebral palsy diagnosis, several friends messaged me encouraging notes describing stories about their CP kids.  How they were mainstreamed, what their therapies did.  It may be foolish, but I am clinging to their successes.  Each CP case is different.  I have no business comparing, but I can’t help but wish we will have the same kind of story to pass onto someone like me in the future.  My desire is to have all of my kids in the same place.  That place happens to be a Christian school where the big three are already.  I break down and cry, quite literally!, when I consider that dream being threatened.  I cannot minimize the amazing teachers, family feel, wonderful memories that I have that Noah, Hayden, and Gracie are already creating for themselves, and the excellent spiritual formation that will be a HUGE part of who they become.  This place is special; you have no idea.  I get sick to think of Levi missing out on that “village”.  God surely knows the future and has a specific plan for Levi.  I am not in control and we need to take His lead day to day.  But that doesn’t diminish the weight of my desires.    

The fact that Levi has been named by many as “the happiest, most joyful kid they’ve ever known” lifts me up whenever I hear it.  I wonder if God planted that spirit in his core because He knew he’d need a different set of gifts to get through his struggles.  God knows, I’m learning so much by being his mom.  He teaches me to giggle more.  To embrace what matters at a slow pace.  To trust in God’s plan and LET GO.

But when I am tired and I let the uncertainty of the future creep in and cripple me, I fear that that day won’t come.  The day that he’ll be self-sufficient, have a fluid conversation with me, walk with his heels down without those stinkin’ boots on, actually go potty in the toilet BEFORE he’s already gone in his diaper (lol).  I have no promises to hold onto except the most important one: He is in God’s hands – the most capable, healing, loving hands that are the only ones that matter.  And my job is to walk him through each trial - no matter how long that trial is! - reminding him of whose hands are lifting us up.  And I am realizing that when he has a trial, it is also a trial for me.  We may have different lessons to learn, but we walk through it together. 

Being prayed for by my friends on Thursday really did lift my spirits and cut through some of the other heaviness weighing on me.  But I’m still struggling.  In these seasons of discouragement, I am asking you, my friends, to hold me up and walk with us.  Don’t tell me it will all be okay.  Don’t pretend to have a crystal ball.  Don’t say ‘It could be worse.’ (I know that, remember?)  Instead, please remind me to keep my eyes on eternity.  Everything I’ve written about pales in comparison to what truly matters.  I want Levi to love Jesus.  And even though he can’t even say His name yet, we know he does.        

Yay for hand-me-downs

I laid out some jammies for Carter.  He looked at them and reminded me, "No, Levi's!" I corrected him, "Oh, actually those are yours now because you're 2!" (Mommy was veeeeeery delayed in changing clothes out this round.)  Carter giggled and quickly got dressed in his new-to-him Elmo outfit.  Glad to see you so thrilled about the hand-me-downs, buddy!

Nobody called on my Birthday

By the title of this entry, you might think I'm writing a pity post. Well, I'm not.  I only bring it up because it serves as a sad reminder.

Every year as far back as I can remember, I got a phone call on my birthday from my grandma and grandpa.  When my grandma began to decline with her dementia, my grandpa didn't miss a beat.  He had all his girls' birthdays written down and called without fail.  A quick "Happy birthday, Laura! I love you." was all he wanted to say.  I looked forward to it, and it always made me feel like his precious little granddaughter no matter how old I was.  When cell phones entered the picture, I could tell when he was calling.  He had the only "Blocked" number that ever buzzed my way.

Last year, Scott and I were away celebrating my 30th birthday.  I didn't hear the phone buzz and I missed it.  That special "blocked" number called me once again for my birthday.  I was bummed to miss his voice and for some reason he didn't leave a message, but I knew what he would have said.  Two days later while we were still away (one year ago today), I got a different call.  My mom informed me through tears that Grandpa had just passed away.

That 30th birthday is a bittersweet memory now.  Although not talking with him, I knew as always, he didn't forget.  And as this 31st birthday approached, I was emotional knowing that blocked number wouldn't make it on my screen this time.  I missed him then and I miss him now and every day too.

So again, this isn't a sob story about no one calling to wish me a happy birthday.  If you know me, you know I hate talking on the phone anyway! ha!  But the fact that there wasn't the ONE call I loved, made it sting pretty badly.

Today is Grandpa's heavenaversary.  We miss you down here, Oh Bob!  The Giants have stunk since you've been gone. So much is changing around us, but your memory doesn't!  Your smile, laughter, your baby blues, jokes and songs, prayers with thees and thous... We think of these with such fondness.  We continue to be thankful for your loving presence and the deep roots of faith you planted in our lives. 

It's so hard to imagine what heaven must be like, but it is sweeter picturing you there.  Still miss you though. xoxoxo

Recent Excerpts for my Mommy Memoirs

Here are a few conversational gems that I'd like to document for later on in life when all this chaos that I'm living in is a muddled mess of memories and I can't remember facts or specifics of the fun along the way. :D

During one of our BIG, clean-up missions (where Mommy's patience is always tested by leaps and bounds), I decided to throw an unwanted, broken toy away.  Noah spotted me in the laundry room disposing it and emotionally pleaded, "Mommy, DON'T! That's a toy that Levi got for his birthday!  He'll be so upset!  That toy is special to him!!" (It SO was not, by the way.) I tried to shush him so he wouldn't alert Levi to what was going on.  I told him that Levi would be just fine and the toy didn't work now anyway.  He was adamant that Levi would be so upset.  I thought I had succeeded in tossing it without Levi becoming aware, but as I walked by the little guy, sitting at the playroom desk within earshot of the confrontation, he looked up at me with a stern face (taking every cue given to him by big brother) and simply said, "Me set." (Me upset)  It was so hard not to laugh in front of him. Seriously! He didn't even know WHAT I had thrown out; he just relayed Noah's emotion.  Funny kid... It was a great reminder that he catches on to SO MUCH MORE than I realize.


Singing along to a Matthew West song in the car, "Hello, my name is child of the One True King..."
Gracie catches on and asks me, "Mama, how can you be a child if you are a grown up?"  I answer her.  Then she decides, "Well, if you are a child, then I'm a baby.  And Grandma and Grandpa are adults."  haha!  It seems she's assigned us spiritual ages like dog years! Clever girl.

In the car commuting to school, we were playing a popcorn game: go around and name one name of God.  Lord, Messiah, Jehovah, Bright and Morning Star, Alpha, Omega, Emmanuel... we were going for quite awhile!  (Thank you, Michael W. Smith and Amy Grant for the Isaiah 9:6 Christmas song!!)  So, the kids were running out of ideas so Hayden hesitantly offered up, "Man of Steel?" Nice try, cutie.  But He's stronger than that.

I was reading to the kids at bedtime out of 2 Kings chapter 3.  Gracie was getting a little fidgety at my side.  I'm trying my best to ignore it.  "And Jehoshaphat said, 'Is there no prophet of the LORD here, through whom we may inquire of the LORD?' Then one of the king of Israel's servants answered, 'Elisha the son of Shaphat is here, who poured water on the hands of Elijah.' And Jehoshaphat said...(Gracie, what's going on?)."  Noah interrupts, "Wait! He said, 'Gracie, what's going on?'!?"  It took me a second to realize I had blended them together like that, but I was pleased that Noah was paying attention and didn't miss a beat!

And lastly, again preparing to read at bedtime, Noah excitedly asks, "Are we reading 'The Three Kings' again?"  We're reading 2 Kings, love." ;)

The Longest Day (Night) of the Year

On what is known as the longest day of the year, June 21st, I experienced an unfathomable series of events in my mommyhood that truly made me feel like the longest day was longer than normal.  I wasn't exactly laughing as these events unfolded, but in the midst I was proud of my poise and lack of total freak out.  So of course, I need to document this day (or more accurately - about 4 hours - of awesomeness!  You have full permission to laugh and cringe at what you are about to read, assuming I can convey the chaotic scenes well enough for you.  It has gross subject matter.  Read on at your own risk.

Awhile back, my aunt needed to have surgery for a broken foot.  She is recuperating, but that leaves her nearly full-time on the couch.  We were long overdue to visit!  I was scheduled to drop off a meal for a friend already, so I decided last-minute to pack up ours as well, and take my auntie dinner, a bunch of small visitors, and carry out our "family movie night" on her floor.  

We had a really nice visit and meal together.  Set up Shirley Temple's Heidi, distributed the popcorn, and settled in.  A few peeps out of Hayden: "My tummy hurts."  Mommy says, "I'm sorry, sweetie.  Why don't you lay down and just rest?"  Movie continues.  The kids alternate who they snuggle with.  Yada yada yada.  Near the end of the movie - that's when things start to unravel.  For some reason, Levi was standing beside me and he let out a random cough.  I think to myself, "Oh, God, no. I've seen that cough before.  It's a special one."  Here it comes.  He starts to throw up, so I stand up and do what any sensible person does when their kid is puking: try to catch it with my hand and start barking orders.  So poor Levi is coughing and dealing with yucky stuff coming out and I so desperately don't want it to overflow out of my hand.  With an incredulous smirk, I calmly say what I am thinking.  "I can't believe this is happening right now."  I am trying to shimmy him to the sink or somewhere else other than over the carpet, but I'm not being very successful.  I don't want the dear to choke on it either!  I've got one leg flailing to the side trying to kick Carter away from his curiosity.  The last thing I want is him getting acquainted with the chunks on the floor.  Meanwhile, I'm thinking,"Wait a minute!  The wrong kid is throwing up!  Levi has been acting fine.  Great!  Hayden will be next!"  In the middle of that, I've got Noah and Gracie (my sensitive squad) starting to run around and squeal in fear.  "Oh no!  I don't want to smell it!" Uh, I don't want them to smell it either!  The last time that happened in the car, Noah was a sympathetic vomiter and Gracie was one sniff away from becoming one also!  So I'm yelling, "Quick! Run to the end of the hall and stay there! (And of course, every few seconds they would start to wander back to the action and I'd have to remind them again to back up.) Hayden, if you feel like you are going to be sick, get to the toilet!"  This is happening 3 feet away from my poor Aunt Bobbi who CANNOT move or escape.  She has to keep her foot elevated nearly 24/7 and she gets around the house on a scooter.  As much as she wanted to help, she had to just sit there and feel sorry for me.  Well, I felt more sorry for HER!  Luckily, being around kids is not new to her and she fully gets that "things happen" and "you couldn't have known", but still - talk about embarrassment.  Here I am, finally visiting her on this particular day, and I bring a sickie with me.  "Here ya go, Aunt Bobbi! Dinner and a movie and a front row seat to disgusting smells!"  Bleh.

Okay, back to the drama.  We keep the kids away from the disaster area and I am able to get Levi cleaned up (who perked up immediately by the way, "PHEW, I think.  A one time gig!"), jammies in a bag, carpet spraying/cleaning/scrubbing, blow kisses to avoid passing our untrustworthy germs, and then pack the kids and our dinner cooler, blankets, and pillows back into the car.  The sensitive squad states their case over and over again, "I don't want to sit next to Levi.  I don't want to 'fro' up if I smell him, mama.  Mommy, can I sit somewhere not next to Levi?"  Since Hayden complained of a tummy ache already, he gets the privilege of sitting in the back with him.  And the wonderfully awesome kid didn't complain a word about it.  (Just had to throw that in there.  So proud of that guy.)  We're all set and I head back inside for one more thing.  The very best thing.  A Ziploc bag.  "Here Hayden.  Don't hold this over your mouth.  That's not safe because it's plastic, but hold it open and if you're going to get sick, get it in there, okay?"  It occurs to me for a millisecond to give Levi one too, but a) he really is acting like he feels fine, and b) I don't exactly have faith that he would use the bag anyway.  Turn over ignition and... Crap.  I forgot I needed gas.  Alright.  One more thing.  Oh well.  Let's just get these guys home and in bed.  

Five minutes in, things are still going well.  Seven minutes in, *cough cough* Gracie interprets, "Oh no!  Levi's fro-ing up again! Noah, don't smell his fro up!" Now comes that point, if you haven't already, that you might judge me.  Are there some rules of parental etiquette when your kid gets sick in the car?  One might pull over and clean him up, but now that I know he's going to do this multiple times, I choose to race like heck to the gas station so I can clean him there and more importantly, just get home.  Not really in the mood to pull over (over and over again) on the side of the freeway on these lonely junctions by myself.  So I make sure he's okay and coach him through and tell him how sorry I am.  And you know what the sweetheart says? "Me dough-tee!" (That's 'me dirty', but he doesn't say Rs).  I have to smile at that.  He's such a stinkin' cutie!  No pun intended.  While I am trying to comfort him, the peanut gallery daughter is going crazy.  "If he does it again, be sure to plug your nose, okay, Noah?  Mommy, when I get home I am going STRAIGHT to bed in MY room because I don't want to sleep with the boys in their germs... Levi, STOP crying!"  I interject, "GRACIE! Please leave him alone!  He doesn't feel good and nobody likes the feeling of throwing up and he's all messy now, so it's okay that he's crying right now!" Oh boy, did she try to continue but I cut off all plug your nose and 'let's talk about the smell' talk.  Noah chimed in a time or too as well.  About sixteen minutes in and Gracie pipes up again, "Hayden is fro-ing up!!"  Oh my gosh, you've got to be kidding.  Two vomiters are going at it in my NEW - yes, new to me - car that I've had for eight days.  A few seconds later, I hear Hayden's victory cry, "MOM!  I got it all in the bag!"  I'm not sorry to say that I cheered and praised that boy like mad.  

I pull in to get gas, stock my hands full of the paper towels and head to the back seat.  A wave of guilt.  Okay, Levi falling asleep while still "all dough-tee" is just extra sad.  Bad mom award.  I wipe him up, continue to praise Hayden... HOLY COW, that bag is full of a much more liquidy substance than what I've been dealing with on Levi...  THAT would've splattered everywhere!  "Hayden, I know that this is kind of gross - me talking about throw up like this - but you are a ROCKSTAR!  I can't believe you got all of that in the bag!  You are awesome!!" I guess any praise is meaningful to a child.  HAHA!  His whole face lit up with the biggest smile.  Time to go.  "Man!" I'm thinking, "This is the longest drive home ever!"

Back on the freeway and every few minutes I check on Hayden.  "Hayd? Are you awake?  How's your tummy?"  I imagine him drifting off to sleep and the bag slipping from its upright position.  Would his victory be wasted and all of that grossness spill out after all?  Luckily, he still quietly answered each time I called him.  "I'm okay!"  And then the sleeper had some activity and there was Gracie to report it again.  "UH OH, MAMA! Levi is fro-ing up again!!  I'm going to plug my nose because I don't want to fro up too (and she starts heading down that rabbit hole again)."  We're speeding.  A lot.  I'll admit it.  But then the next thing happens.  I know you are all thinking that CHP pulled me over.  Nope.  At the time I kind of wished that instead, but I see something worse.  Lots of red tail lights.  "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  Construction traffic at 10 o'clock is not something I cared to add to my agenda tonight.  Can't I just get these pukers home!?"  It wasn't a huge delay, but definitely slowed our mission down.  And luckily, Gracie had no activities to report.

Finally made it home and well kids are put in their beds and sick kids are put on floor blanket beds stocked with a bowl next to the bathroom door.  Falling into my bed (expecting several interruptions in the hours ahead) at 11:41pm, I sent my husband a text that said, "Goodnight.  Prayers please." (I had already filled him in with all the big story elements and he, too, was pleasantly surprised that I hadn't 'lost it'.  Woohoo!)

So that was my noteworthy night.  I seriously hope it won't be repeated or one-upped at all.  But who knows?  With our five, you never know what chaos might be around the corner.  After all, we are the ones who had a similar throwing up catastrophe on a cloth-covered church pew in the second row at our kids' school choir performance right before one of our sons had his first public solo! Ah, impeccable timing, I'd say!   
Definitely one of the times that you just need to flow with the mommy moment and let it play out.  I'm encouraged that I already (not even a few days after it!) am smiling about all of the hilarity and "Are you kidding me?!" moments of the evening.  Sheesh.  Life is entertaining.

Oh!  And another thing.  I miraculously was left alone all night!  Levi and Hayden remained healthy after the car ride.  It wasn't until mid-morning, however, after I was changing some bed sheets in the boys' room that I noticed that poor Carter had thrown up in the middle of the night and I hadn't even known! I was shocked that he hadn't woken up crying or that none of it was stuck to him in the morning.  He had gotten up and was as chipper as usual, poor thing.  Bath time and lots of laundry.  

So, yeah.  One evening.  Three-fifths sick.  Longest day of the year.  How was your Friday night? ;)

My FACEBOOK Hiatus

I just now made an impulsive decision.  I feel the Lord is telling me something, and I'm going to commit to it without hesitating.  

Facebook.

Some love it.  Some hate it.  I'm on the love side, but I've crept over to the "UGH!" side more and more.  It's not about the ads, the vintage postcards that flood my feed, the amount of time I spend on it, or the like and share pictures.  It's about the two lives people try to lead.  The one on facebook and the one for real.  

I try to be a healthy balance of authenticity and vulnerability along with appropriate discretion.  I'm not that afraid to share about my bad days, faults, hair-pulling moments, and the frequent exercise of apologizing to my kids.  But then of course, I'm not going to share details that aren't the vast majority's business either.  And I'm not expecting anyone else to.  I get that people want to share more good than bad, the happy times over "Man, my marriage is really difficult right now!" or whatever the big struggles are.  But I do appreciate showing an honest picture of yourself and family, something missing from so many facebook pages it seems.  (Please note that I did say try.  I'm not claiming perfection or doing the kettle/black thing here.  I'm sure I annoy plenty of people with my posts, and many might think I do exactly the thing that I'm bugged by.  It's probably inevitable.)

For awhile, it was just an annoyance.  (People call it Bragbook for a reason, I know.)  But now, it's become a heart issue for me.  The truth is, people getting praise and compliments for the life they show us when I see a different one offline, has officially "gotten to me."  It may be a form of jealousy, may be it's envy for the accolades, may be disappointment that they are squandering the chance to be an authentic, leaning-on-Jesus light who doesn't pretend.  Some of you might be thinking, "Who cares?  If you don't like what someone is posting, you can unfriend them.  Or even further, what they choose to post is none of your business."  I know that.  So I'm going to take some time away to figure it out.

I can't be away that long as many groups I'm part of rely on facebook to communicate, but I'm thinking a week or so.  And I will miss plenty!  I'm still an advocate for the connectedness that can come from this social network.  How many times have I felt part of the outside world, even as a SAHM?... plenty!  But like I said, this impulsive decision is prompted by the Boss in my life.  I hope that God reveals to me what issues need fixing in my heart.  

So, I just wanted to explain my little absence and take the opportunity to be real.  It's not easy to admit that ugliness in my heart, but I'm sure I will grow in the right areas for showing my weakness.  Love to you all and have a very blessed Easter, everyone.

Stuff my 6 yr. old says

Mom, does God know if I will love him when I grow up or not?  Like, even before we were born did He know that me and our family would love Jesus?

Yeah, He does.  Isn't that amazing?

Yeah.  That's cool.  I was gonna say that we should go to China to tell people about God, but I don't want to get in trouble with their police.

Well, if God tells you to go tell the people of China about Jesus, you need to obey Him even if we think it's dangerous. 

That's right! Because He will protect us!  Every day He will protect us and even if we get shot, He will lift us up and take us up to heaven.

((A little choppy, but I still love what he takes away.  He understands that obeying God is worth any risk.  Protection may look different from what our small minds think.))

And I'm not gonna lie; I immediately tear up when I hear his questions and wonder about our God.  It reminds me of all we know and, maybe more importantly, all we don't know.  What we aren't MEANT to know.  It reminds me of the exact same thoughts I had as a child.  Childlike faith coming back...