He Makes Me Lie Down in Green Pastures

So today, while driving the kids to the museum, I realized that perhaps it's been awhile since I've had some "me time". Sometimes, I'll be going along with this mothering thing full steam ahead, and we're having a great time, and everythings a-okay (for the most part), and I think "Nah, I'm cool...I don't need a break from this." But then, as time goes by, I start to get a little snippier with the kids. I find myself raising my voice a little too often and a little too quickly. I start finding myself more easily irritated by silly kid things that shouldn't be so annoying to me. And the final clencher, the big indicator that Mommy needs some alone time to focus on being an individual and not a mother, is that I start feeling trapped in this lifestyle and like these kids are cramping my style.

Yeah, I always promised that this blog would be honest and raw, so there you have it.

It's funny...you more often hear of daddies wanting to run away from their households, not mommies. Although maybe it's more common than we know. But sometimes, I just want to deposit my kids somewhere safe, where they'll be loved and taken care of (like with their daddy), and just head out on the open road. Let go of this domestic life, shake off these "chains" I've willingly saddled myself with, and get back in touch with who I am as a person. What IS "my style", after all?

For the record, my husband is awesome at letting me get alone time when I need it. I guess the problem is with me...I just think I don't need the time, and then I don't take it, and then...uh-oh...Mommy's not doing so well. Can anyone say "self-sabotage"?!

I. Need. Space.

Granted, life as a parent is all about sacrifice. It's about laying down your life for not only your spouse but also your children. We often don't get a chance to just step away of our responsibilities for awhile. And don't get me wrong, I've got a lot of help in that regard. My parents are such a blessing - they often babysit for us. And two weeks ago, we took a week-long trip away from the crew (although we had the baby with us), and that was good and hard, all at the same time. (I think that's TOO much "space"...I missed my kiddos so badly!) But sometimes, sometimes, a person needs time alone. A-L-O-N-E. Time to reconnect with our inner selves. Time to refocus on what our life is about. Time to talk to Jesus and listen to what He says.

Maybe the solution here is me getting myself out of bed earlier in the morning and getting quiet time every day. I KNOW that would be helpful. But...oh, so pathetic, I know...I'm so tired! And I have to confess, I DO stay up late, because that's time to get stuff done without the kids around! Time with husband, time for work, time for other stuff.

Blah. Maybe I'm complaining too much. But, regardless, I sense that all is not well on the inside, and something's gotta give. I think I'll be headed somewhere on my own sometime soon. A coffee shop. A bookstore. A mini-roadtrip. Time to renew, time to refresh. I love this team of people I'm traveling with, but sometimes, this girl needs to break away from the path and "lay down in green pastures." Moo.

Mother's Day

I've been mulling something over since Mother's Day, and I figured I needed to blog about it to properly process it, but I've been putting it off. My kids are playing quietly right now, so I'm gonna go for it. :)

It all started with preparation for Mother's Day. A few days before, I remembered something I overheard my mom say to a friend, "Mother's Day is more important to me than my BIRTHDAY!". I always thought that was a little strange, seeing as I'm waaaay into birthdays, but I tucked that little tidbit into my heart and made sure that I make my mom feel special and loved on her special day.

This year, however, I feel like I'm starting to understand where she's coming from. That Sunday morning was stressful and full of chaos, as usual, trying to get 5 little people ready, cute, and out the door as to not be more than 30 minutes late to church (sadly, our norm). I was up early making stuff manicotti so my parents could join us right after church and food would be ready. I spent the last 15 minutes before we walked out the door on myself, meaning a quick shower, semi-wet hair, and a thrown together outfit. I was feeling like a failure as a mother for several reasons, I'm sure, one being my lack of sweetness and my impatience with my kids.

When we got to church, they played little video snippets of different people honoring their moms, and while it was so awesome to hear, it was kind of discouraging to me, because I kept asking myself, "What would MY kids say 10 or 20 years from now about ME?". (Maybe this was the point...it sure made for some heartfelt repentence during the ministry time!)

But I realized, you know, yeah...Mother's Day IS important, probably because there are so many of us mothers who feel like we're doing a horrible job, who feel like total failures at this motherhood thing. It's almost like, turning another year older, whoo-hoo, big deal...I do that whether I'm good at it or not. But MOTHERING...now THAT'S hard work! My whole LIFE has changed because I'm a mother, not to mention I have discovered how much I need God's grace and mercy DAILY to effectively lead and disciple and love these kids He's given me.

So I think I'm siding with my mom on this whole "really whoop it up on Mother's Day" thing, even though neither she nor I nor anyone else would probably admit out loud WHY this day is so important to us. I think it comes from a deep need, a deep wound, a deep sense of insecurity about our job performance. Not that we need to be lauded and stroked, but just that we need to be encouraged. "You're doing a good job, lady...hang in there!" or "I know it looks like I never listen to you, Mom, but once a year, I can admit that you make a lot of sense." You know, those kinds of things.

So happy belated Mom's Day, friends. Hug yourselves and know that you're loved, know that you're cherished, know that it's gonna be worth it all!

Here We Go...

Wow - long time no blog. Been resisting and completely intentionally avoiding this blog for the past few months. Don't know why, but hey, at least I'm back now.

Today is "Field Day" for my two oldest kiddos, and the morning was less-than-ideal for what should be a fun-filled day. Hubby and I were both incredibly grumpy (nevermind that I was up til 2am), and our poor children stumbled out the door in tears.

I feel horrible now, now that I've had time to wake up a little more and process. These are the times I wish I could send flowers to their school...something happy and bright, with a note asking for forgiveness for being so darn grumpy. Or call them up on a cell phone right in the middle of a math test..."Hey, sorry, real quick: I love you. Sorry Mommy was a jerk this morning." Wouldn't that be great? I think I'll write them a note apologizing so they can have it and keep it and read it again the next time I pummel them with my crankiness. Sigh.

This parenting stuff, it's hard! I know they're only kids...I shouldn't be annoyed that my daughter freaked out about having to have a sack lunch today right as it was time to walk out the door, or that she left her glasses at church the other night. Nevermind that my son suddenly decided he didn't like grilled cheese even though he's liked it for 7 years. Nevermind that they were stomping and clomping around the house and arguing with everything we said, waking up their little siblings (way too early!). I remember being a kid. I remember how annoying I was, but I know it wasn't intentional.

This is where we need that verse about how God's mercies are new every morning. Except I need them to be "new" TWICE every morning. That way, when I blow it the first time around, come 9am, I can get some more!

So here we go on our busy day, hoping for the best from the littles since they didn't get much sleep, but bracing myself in case we have some extra meltdowns. I'm operating on 4 hours of sleep, so this could get ugly. Won't be able to take a nap today either. Oh...help! Lord, help!

Rise & Shine

So this morning, we were short on clean laundry. My son was sentenced to wear some pleated khaki Dockers, and let's just say he was less than thrilled. Ten minutes after being told to put them on, I find him crouched in his room in a corner, ultimately depressed and horrified to be seen in the pants. Mercifully, we found a pair of jeans right as they were walking out the door to leave for school, so Jeremy let him change. He really didn't look bad, but I'm trying to remember what it was like as a kid. It's good his daddy had compassion.

On another note, I've been waging a war against early rising. When the big kids rush out the door in the mornings, they've been waking the little kids up, and it's driving me batty. I got some room-darkening curtains for their room, thinking I'd outsmarted the sunshine, but no no no they're still waking up. I know I shouldn't complain so much b/c some kids wake up at like 6am or something, and 7:30 isn't too horrible, but here's the honest truth: I'M JUST NOT READY TO START MY DAY THAT EARLY. Meaning....I'm not ready to start my job - my WORK - being a Mom - that early. After waking up with the baby and feeding him, I really want to just snuggle back into bed. Or at least have some time with just me and God - some quiet time - some reflection time - time to gear up for the day. When the littles wake up early and immediately come TO me, my insides are screaming for SPACE and privacy (you know....the 2 things we as moms sign away in the delivery room).

I've retreated to our computer/music room while they're snuggled up in blankets watching cartoons on PBS. Sweet little girls. I love them. I've got all the blinds opened in this room I'm in and it's filled up with morning sun, and it's invigorating. My mood is lifting. I wish I were sitting out in the country on a front porch with a cup of coffee and dew fresh on the grass. Maybe a deer off in the distance. Some birds digging in the soft morning dirt. But for now, I'll enjoy this peaceful view of my surprisingly, for the ghetto, peaceful neighborhood. Something about the quiet of a morning that replenishes your soul. "Be still, and know that I am God." It's good to be still. And it's good that "He restores my soul."

Doesn't our Father know exactly what we need? It's good...it's good that MY Daddy has compassion.

Humility

I feel like the past few years of my life have been spent learning humility. For an almost-only child who grew up without siblings to fight with and who pretty much thought the world revolved around her, this is actually a good thing. I'm not saying I'm enjoying it...it's trying, for sure. But oh, so needed.

The more I think about it, I would say the whole humility thing started with having kids. I mean, what's more humbling than having your legs spread apart and a room full of people staring at your crotch while you try to push a watermelon through...well...you know what I'm saying. After that, it was the nursing...having those "whoops" moments when feeding your ravished newborn in public but not having quite mastered the art of keeping everything covered. Then, as the kids mature, it's the meltdowns in the middle of the grocery store aisle, or the sheer amount of time spent with your rear in the air as you bend down to tie shoes, put on socks, pull up training pants, etc. etc. Yes...this mothering thing should be practiced in monasterys around the world!

But that aside, I'm praying that I learn to love humility. See, there's a verse I found this morning that I've heard a million times, but reading it again reminded me of its significance:

"Think of yourselves the way Christ Jesus thought of himself. He had equal status with God but didn't think so much of himself that he had to cling to the advantages of that status no matter what. Not at all. When the time came, he set aside the privileges of deity and took on the status of a slave, became human! Having become human, he stayed human. It was an incredibly humbling process. He didn't claim special privileges. Instead, he lived a selfless, obedient life and then died a selfless, obedient death—and the worst kind of death at that—a crucifixion."-Phil. 2:5-7 (The Message)

There's something in me that feels the need to explain...to prove myself...to make sure people know my capabilities or my talents - my giftings. To prove that I'm not just some lady who's barefoot and pregnant all the time (although my friend Jeni is right...I AM!), to let them know that I didn't grow up over in the ghetto (even though that's where we currently reside), to let them know I'm educated, etc. But you know what? Who cares?!! Just me, really. So instead, I just keep quiet, even though everything in me is screaming out to be really known. I'll admit that most of the time, I don't keep quiet on my own...usually, the situation affords me no luxury of explaining things to onlookers...but I'm praying that I, too, will "live a selfless, obedient life" with a thousand daily cruxifications of MY plan, MY will, MY need to be respected blah blah blah. I want to embrace humility. If the greatest person who ever lived was able to do it (and asks US to do it), it must be worthwhile. It must be worth it. It must be the best thing for us, with a higher goal, a deeper purpose, a beautiful result.

Here's a thought to close: Wasn't it just like God to rub shoulders with the lowely and the despised? I'm so glad He wasn't haughty when He came. I'm so glad He embraced lepers and spit in the dirt and cursed at fig trees. He didn't have to be this way...He didn't have to be a God so near. And He chose "the foolish things of the world to shame the wise." The lowly things, the disgraced, and He came right into our world, beginning with dirty hay, fleas, rats, cattle, sheep, a feeding trough, a carpenter, and a teenage girl. WOW.

My List

nevermind...i was typing - almost done - and my 4 y/o came in and pushed the delete button. it's all gone. sigh. don't have it in me to retype right now.

raw mommyhood.

H(cr)appy Christmas Eve Eve

I had high hopes of a beautiful evening. The "Christmas at Belmont" special, hosted by Trisha Yearwood (one of my fave singers), was on PBS at 7, and I had whipped up a yummy pasta dish for supper at the last minute. The hubby has been working late the past few nights trying to wrap up a project before Christmas. But I planned for the kids and I to get the house cleaned after supper, then I would cook up a batch of cookies and we'd watch the TV special together. WRONG. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

The house cleaning had its moments of triumph. The older 2 really pitched in and the oldest did a thorough bathroom cleaning all by herself. She really is amazing! After I had washed the dinner dishes, I found out that the sponge she used to clean the bathroom had been put...in...the...sink. SO. I tried to have a cheery attitude, but I failed, and I had to redo all the dishes I had just attacked with a fury.

By the time the special was airing, the kids were watching it while I was on cookie duty, except they were laughing and making fun of the choral singers, the male ballet dancers, etc. Not that I blame them a whole lot, but it just wasn't the time and place to be doing that. (you know, in the safety and comfort of our home.uh...) but anyways, it was bedtime and a privilege for them to stay up, so one by one, I sent rowdy kid after rowdy kid to bed, cookie-less and loudly protesting. So much for hearing the TV show. I tried. I tried to block out the screaming and thrashing and complaining and questioning. My eldest remained on the couch, wanting to snuggle. Sigh. I tried not to reject her - tried to explain that Mommy was in a really cranky mood and that I really didn't want to snuggle, but that I loved her and maybe she could come just sit next to me quietly. Yeah. I know. But that's what I said.

After the special (after a few cookies and spoons full of cookie dough), this same daughter sighed and said "Maybe tomorrow, you'll be a better mommy!" as she slinked off to bed. And I retorted loudly that I WAS a good mommy today and that I needed time to NOT be a mommy before I went to sleep tonight.

Let me just add that we had a good day together, all of us. In fact, the past 3 days haven't been awful, and maybe even a bit pleasant. (Having the big kids home from school all day AND not having Jeremy around in the evening.) But tonight, tonight, I just didn't hold together well at all. I'm a little ashamed. I still loved on them. I alternated barking and loving, and my 2 year old is still yelling for me to come cover her up, even though she's perfectly capable of doing it herself. I've already had to discipline her twice tonight, and to be honest, I don't have it in me to go do it again. So I'm just pretending I don't hear her. Nevermind that she's keeping everyone else from falling asleep.

Anyone have a stiff drink? Or at least a stiff latte? Here's a book title I came up with once..."My Kids Drove Me to Drinking".

Alright...signing off...Jim Brickman's Christmas CD is on, all lights but the tree are off, and I'm hoping to get some true quiet time to just contemplate all the ways I failed today as a mother. KIDDING!

...kind of. :)

Pursuit of Peace

So I woke up when the husband and big kids left for work/school today. "This is great!", I thought to myself. "The house is quiet. I'll get up now and have some quiet time before my littles wake up, and then I can really spend time with them when they wake up instead of trying to get some alone time then! Wonderful!" Except I had literally been awake 7 minutes when the little girls woke up. One of them is already throwing the loudest fit this side of Oklahoma. My heart is pounding and my blood is boiling and I feel like I've got my fingernails dug into peace and am trying to hold on to it by the skin of my teeth. What does the Bible say...something about "seek peace and pursue it"? Maybe that's because living in peace (and being AT peace) is harder than it seems. It doesn't just happen to you...at least not when you have small children. On another note, that verse in Psalms that says "how good, how pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity (peace)" has taken on a whole new meaning in my life. I get it. I TOTALLY get it now.

You know, usually, I wake up and I think about my day and I kind of formulate a plan. I'm a planner...I like to have a "to do" list and a loose schedule. (although a tight schedule is my favorite, but i've learned that's not possible anymore) And maybe I'm growing in this motherhood thing, because THIS morning, after I made my plan, I then admitted to myself that the likelihood of my plan happening is about 50%, and that I just need to let it go and hope for the best. So that's what I'm doing. Hey...there's still a 50% chance I'll get something done today that's on my list. Not bad odds! Not preferable, but not deplorable, either.

On another note, I've been noticing lately (as in, the past couple years) my affinity for variety. This is a good thing sometimes, but usually, it fleshes itself out more in the lack of discipline category, as in "I'll do something for awhile, but then get tired of it and quit." My consistency meter usually peters out after a few weeks/months. But I've also noticed how many ups and downs life has. I mean, I'll be doing great - great! - with different challenges/routines in my life, and then a blow will come, or maybe I'll just get bored with it - and I'm off the path again. And I was thinking about this little tree I have. We inherited it when it was just a stalk sticking out of a big planter/pot thingy. We didn't know what kind of tree it was or if it was alive or dead or what, but we stuck it in the sun and watered it. Well, come spring, we were overjoyed to find it starting to grow leaves. Amazing! Seriously - this was a huge highlight of my spring! I was filled with such hope as this little tree began to grow leaf after leaf after beautiful green leaf! It was fruitful and full of life! It was such an inspiration to me of hope and perseverance. Everytime I looked at it, the spring in my step increased.

But then...a few weeks ago...we had some uncharacteristicly cold weather. I forgot about our little tree being affected by this, and come morning, every one of those long, beautiful leaves were wilted. They hung straight down - totally limp - totally dead. I scooted the tree around the yard all day the next day so it could have direct sunlight, but alas, it still hung limp. I then brought the tree inside and put my coat over it in hopes of keeping it warm, but it was too late. One night's freeze and all that life was gone. I am still so, so sad about this. How quickly life can be snuffed out! I'm sure there are deeper metaphors here, but the one I want to focus on is the thousands of little deaths that happen to us in our lifetimes. We go through seasons...winter often the hardest, naturally. No signs of life. Then suddenly, boom, leaves and green and growth! But when we're not looking - we let our guard down - and then death, again. And had I taken care of this tree better, it would probably have made it through the cold - dormant - but would spring to life again as temperatures increased. It just reminds me of the many victories and defeats that make up my life, particularly in this journey of motherhood.

So here I sit...the house is quiet again. I'm guessing my littles succombed to the toastiness of their beds and the darkness of the house. My moment of annoyance and frustration has passed - defeat - and now I'm at peace again - victory!

But here's the goal, here's the goal: To have a peace that isn't based on circumstances. And that - THAT - comes in the form of a person. So now, I'm going to get off of this blog and seek Him, who sets my soul truly at rest, who "leads me beside quiet waters", who "restores my soul".

Beautiful Snow

I am overwhelmed with emotion right now. It’s snowing. It never snows here - I think the last time was 2 years ago, and that was a freak thing in MARCH. It’s so beautiful. And I just feel like something is changing. I feel like it’s the blessing of God, coming down so beautiful and so pure and so good. There are times the blessing of God comes violently like the waves of an ocean or a waterfall, but somes times it comes to us like snow drifting, floating, light. Wonderful.

The last few snowflakes have fallen and the sun in coming out, and it’s like we’re left saying, “Did that really happen?!” While we were in the midst of it, it was so overwhelmingly beautiful and real. And now there’s hardly a sign of it, but we can know in our hearts and treasure that it did - it DID - it did. And I think this is where we get glimpses of heaven and realize that this earth is not our home. That beauty like that is real, and while we may only get occasional glimpses, in heaven, the home of the King it’s always so. Like CS Lewis talks about, we were made longing for a distant land, a joy we’ve never known…there’s something in our hearts that knows eternity is real and the Kingdom of Heaven is real and that there is a King and He is good and He is love. It’s so easy to forget down here. It’s hard and ugly and everything is so full of decay and deceit and ruin. But oh, as the old hymn goes, “How beautiful heaven must be!”. And how beautiful its Light, its Lamb.

So I pause - I take pause - in reverence…realizing my own frailty and the many times I’ve chosen to believe what I can see over what I can’t see, what I don’t have the strength at times to hope for. But hope is just around the corner - it’s just around the corner! And whether it be the few seconds our eyes are opened and we see what really is, or whether it be permanently entering that world through ceasing to live in this fallen one, hope is just around the corner and it calls to us. Oh, longing in my heart, you were put there on purpose! Longing for home - for the King - for heaven! “How beautiful heaven must be!”

Road Block Ahead

So I've been thinking lately about the source of my frustration with my kids, and I've talked about this before, but I want to say again that it usually boils down to 2 things: 1) blocked goals, or 2) fear.

I think about most of the times I lose my cool with my kids, and it's over seemingly little things: getting out the door and loaded into the van when we're late, getting someone to stay in their beds and sleep, having a clean house, driving around town with peace and quiet, etc.. These are normal things, normal desires, for sure. But OH! Look out! Even the simplest one will be blocked and fought against. And this, THIS, is the infuriating part.

When I see celebrity moms or even moms around town who seem really "put together" and cool, I often wonder how they respond to the different situations that parenting inevitably brings. (i.e. daughter is supposed to be at school early. we're already late, and she can't find one of her shoes, and for some reason, no other shoe options exist) I just sometimes wish I could be a fly on the wall and see what goes down in other houses. Any celebrities out there wanna fill us in??

Anyhoo, I just think that any adult would be angry if his goals were constantly blocked. That is my chief frustration, at this point. You'd think I'd just give in and give up, but something in me keeps tenaciously insisting on getting my way. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but boy, some ugly words are getting said in the process, and did I mention I think I strained my vocal chords last week in an intensely passionte rant?

Sigh. Where are THESE topics in the motherhood books?!

Till We Have Faces

Has anyone read TILL WE HAVE FACES by C.S. Lewis? I just finished it, and man, I LOVED it, but my brain hurts! I feel like one of the main points of the book is the definition of true love, love that is self-sacrificing and love that wants the absolute best for the one who is loved, even if it hurts the one who loves. Pretty intense.

It relates to a thousand other truths in life, but also to this journey of parenthood. I've been realizing more and more that love down here on earth just pales in comparison to real love...to Real Love, the person. Our meager offerings of love and devotion and commitment...how weak they are, how self-centered, and how tainted, regardless of how pure we think they be.

Can't write more right now...baby screaming.

GRIT AND GRACE

So I think I've finally figured out what frustrates me the most sometimes. I'm sure there are countless emotions contributing to the "cranky mommy" state, but here's one I think I've finally singled out. It's the feeling of waking up hopeful, but then realizing that the day is not your own. Realizing that no matter how badly you want to jump in the car and just go shopping or drive around town or, really, insert ANY goal into this equation, that I am at the mercy of the little people who live in my house. I'll wake up in a good mood, birds are singing, sun is shining, there may even be a bluebird somewhere around my shoulder. But oh so quickly, the sun goes behind the cloud, the birds fly off, and the rain comes down. This can be the result of extremely loud fighting, squawking, screeching, and crying. When this happens, I just shut down inside, and it's such a defeating feeling because it's like I'm trying SO hard to hold on to peace and to being a "happy Mommy", but it constantly eludes me. I don't know...maybe better moms could maintain their sense of peace and cheerfulness in the middle of ear-splitting fights and screeches, but me, I just lose it! It just BOTHERS me - it gets under my skin - it INFURIATES me! And then add to that constant butting up against your requests and arguing and slowness in obeying, and MAN, it's 9am and Mommy is thoroughly pissed.

I had grand hopes for the day. Woke up to sunshine, which always fills me with hope. Made pancakes, bacon, eggs for breakfast. But halfway through the cooking, Mommy's mood went south. Oh, I so long for the days when I could maintain a pleasant attitude ALL DAY! What the heck?!!! What happened to me? What happened to that bubbly teenager who was always smiling and laughing? SIGH. Maybe I'm being unrealistic. Growing up is hard to do, for sure. And sometimes, I tell myself, "You know, ANY adult would be annoyed by this. NO ONE likes it when someone screams in their ear. NO ONE likes to be argued with when they tell someone to do something. NO ONE likes it when someone is hurting someone else for the heck of it. It's normal and natural to feel this way!" But then I wonder, how do all these other moms maintain sanity? Maybe I'm all alone on this "it sucks sometimes to be a Mommy" island. And if I'm alone, then by golly, I might as well hang up some decorations and make this place my own. Because I'm going to be honest about it. This parenting thing, it's hard.

Sure, there's the voice telling me to just suck it up and deal with it. To get over myself. No one said that parenting was easy. That this is where I am in life and this is what I've chosen. And granted, that voice has some value. But if for no other reason than to clarify my emotions, I need to vent, to just be able to say it and get it out of my head so I can address it, say "yeah, you're right, Erin...it's hard." And move on.

I guess, if nothing else, I know that my Father hears these cries and agonies of my heart. And maybe it's all just a part of dying to yourself, of truly living selflessly. I know that's good for me, but I sure don't come by it naturally, and I sure don't like it! :)

I love my kids. I am so thankful that I have them. But sometimes, being their mother really kicks my butt. That's probably part of God's plan for my life...I need some butt-kicking because I grew up spoiled and selfish and territorial. I grew up feeling entitled and unrestrained. And He's given me these little ones not only to bless me, which they do, but also to teach me how to be more like Him. To love when I don't feel like it, to love by sticking it out and just persevering through the hard stuff by sheer grit. Grit...and grace. Boy, do I need a lot of grace! I think I have a new mantra...

Oh, For Solitude!

So it's one of those days. One of those days when you don't want your kids to touch you. At all. Or come near you. Or breathe on you. Or talk to you. Yep...THOSE days.

It all started with a crazy Sunday. Maybe I had too many sweets the night before - not sure. But all I know is I was extremely aggressive all day yesterday. Today, waking up hoping to get some respite by only having to deal with my three younger children, I actually had to repeat Sunday all over again, minus the brief interludes that church provides and minus helpful husband. M & J stayed home from school, and they both, yep both, have strep throat. Hello, five children. These are the times I'm feeling it!

Because my 2 older kids are home, my 2 and 4 year olds didn't sleep during naptime today. AT ALL. Not to mention that b/c of the time change, every freaking person in the family was awake at the crack of dawn. Currently, my 2 year old is climbing all over me, and I really am recoiling, although she has no clue. Score one for patience. At least she doesn't know. But boy, my skin is crawling, and I just want space and quiet and to NOT be touched!

Sheesh. What a day. I think I'm going to ask hubby for a long night at the bookstore tonight. SOMETHING'S gotta give!

Maybe I'll have a better post later, but for now, it's just...raw!

Not-so-joyful Noises

Note to Self: When baby is learning to "cry it out", installing a door on his room is imperative. Otherwise, beloved baby's cries sound like fingernails on a chalkboard...especially when the rest of the family (including Mommy) is trying to sleep.

After convincing myself that baby really was fine and would eventually stop crying, I miraculously dozed off into slumber, only to hear 4-year-old sneaking the markers out of the craft drawer. I raised my hand and snapped as loudly as I could and did some angry pointing back towards her room, and it must have worked, because yet again, Mommy somehow went back to dozing.

These are the things, I've noticed, that make for a cranky mommy. Earlier today, 4-year-old and 2-year-old beloved daughters were loudly singing some kind of "bang banga bang" song at the dinner table, and I found my head starting to pound along with their incessant chanting. My tone of voice got a little shorter, and my instructions quite snippy. I was able to step away from the situation mentally and convinced myself that I wasn't a beast for feeling this way. I pictured some of the adults I know, random adults that don't have children, and I pictured them sitting at this table with me, and clearly, they were as annoyed as I was. Yes...it is annoying to the adult ear to hear loud repetition of otoematpias (or however you spell that word). This would get on even the kindest person's nerves, I'm sure of it. BUT...I told myself...NAPTIME is sweet respite from noise, so if you, Mommy, can just endure a little bit longer, peace will come.

But did I mention beloved baby's screaming? Sigh!

Fullness of Joy

So after posting my "Blue Sky Blues" on Saturday, I took action. I got a can of Dr. Pepper out of the fridge, grabbed Jeremy's guitar, and went and sat outside on the porch while my kids were finishing naptime. Then, when my littles woke up, we went to the lake and met up with the rest of the family, and had a truly glorious evening! We were all out on this floating dock, all 7 of us, and my poor youngest were constantly getting barked at to sit on their rumps and stay put in the very center of the dock. But, barking aside, we had a great time of pointing out clouds, watching a crane who was perched in a dead tree, and analyzing every little detail of some fisherman who had decided to load his boat right beside us. Poor guy - he probably wasn't prepared at all for the reality-star he would become as we discussed his every move.
While the big boys (older son & daddy) fished a little longer into the evening, the girls and baby boy and I went for a little stroll around the lake. It was such a beautifully wonderful weather day, and, thank You, Jesus!, I actually got to enjoy it. And I have to say I really enjoyed my family, too. It's been a great weekend of family-ness, honestly. Saturday was great, and then Sunday morning, we woke up too late to make it to the church service we usually go to, so we decided to have family-church at home. Jer lead worship, I led the lesson, and it actually was really good! Our theme was "it's God's KINDNESS that leads us to repentence." I think the kids actually "got" it, what with my dramatization that involved tying my daughter to a chair (representing how seemingly "little" sins can actually end up making us prisoners). Maybe this chair routine can come into play a little more...say, when the kids are hyper-crazy after school...hmmm. Okay, obviously kidding, but...hey. So then, Sunday evening, we were supposed to go to an outreach at the park that our Lifegroup was doing, but we were running late for that, too (surprise, surprise), so when we headed that direction but realized we were over an hour late, we ditched the whole plan and ended up at the Dam. We then had a really awesome walk along the dam as a family. Yes, the "dam walk". (Makes me laugh every time!)
I had lunch with a great friend today (Erin Ivy!), and she was quick to encourage me that this hard stuff of parenting is only for a season, and as Darius Rucker sings in his current radio-hit, "It won't be like this for long. These days are gonna fly by." So I'm feeling very full, full of thankfulness for these children I have and the wonderful husband that gave them to me. And the beautiful Father who put it all together. Good days, bad days...I have plenty of both. But, wow - what a great weekend! Oh, and we had BBQ for supper...and hubby got me my fave ice cream as a surpise! Now did I mention I could do without the extra calories? But I'm thankful - so thankful. Besides...I think I've mentioned it before...but if God can give me DoubleTree chocolate chip cookies, surely some ice cream every now and then isn't such a bad thing! (I'll save the cookie story for another day)

The Blue Sky Blues

It's a beautiful Saturday. After a week of rain, the clouds have cleared and the sun is shining. We've had a great morning of blackberry pancakes, sausage, eggs, and family togetherness. I'm thankful. But now, Jeremy is off for some much-needed (and long-in-coming) fishing, and I'm sighing because I would so love to go with him. Thankfully, he's taking the older 2 kids with him, bless his heart, so my littles are just now down for a nap and I'll have some alone-time. That's nice, for sure. But I can't help feeling a bit sorry for myself because I remember the time (aka "the largest part of my life") when I could go outside every day whenever I wanted to. That might sound silly...but I've always been the kind of "kid" who needed to "go out" every day. I remember being in school (elementary and Jr. High)"stuck" in a class and wistfully looking out the window at the sun and wanting so desperately to be in it. When I went to high school, I was truly downhearted to learn that none of the classrooms had windows...there were windows in the common areas, but not in the classrooms,and I wondered how I would cope. If too long passed before I got to go outside, I would start to get really down. I remember in high school that sometimes, I would just run outside in between classes in hopes of reviving my downcast state with some much-needed Vitamin D.
So here I am, in a home with, literally, 40 windows, and I feel trapped in it. I always talk about how the house holds me prisoner sometimes. Not really, but because there are so many children and getting "out and about" with them is no easy task, I usually just give up and give in and STAY in. Ugh. I've noticed about myself, as well, that I don't feel so much of the longing to go outside anymore. It's like I've become accustomed to this cave. And sometimes, I pull the curtains shut...almost like I'm shielding myself from the rest of the world. Probably not that great of a thing to do. Probably a mild depression going on there. But my true self fights for hope and for light and for freedom...for running wild in a field of dandelions, for driving down the interstate with my windows down, or at least for sitting on a bench at a playground while my monkeys monkey around.
Today, the longing is back. I want to be free, to be outside, to walk around wherever I want, to drive wherever I want. To not have to think of anyone but myself. To not have to buckle a carseat or yell at a kid who's making loud noises and breaking my daydreaming. Sigh. But I'm telling myself that one day, one day, I'll have plenty of opportunities to take advantage of a beautiful day. And meanwhile, I'm going to try to be thankful, thankful that I have carseats to buckle and kids to yell at. :) And besides...maybe I can talk hubby into heading to a pumpkin patch after naptime. See...there's always hope! :)

Everyday Mercies

So regarding my last blog about the toothbrushing, let me just say that God is good and He is merciful! We went to the dentist last week (all children with teeth, anyway), and of all of them, here's what he said about the two-year-old toothbrush-toilet-dipper..."Her teeth are pristine!". Seriously?! I just had this overwhelming sense of God's grace envelop me when he said that. Just this sense that God is so much more loving and so much more good than we could ever comprehend, or, moreoever, ever deserve. I know it might sound silly when talking about the state of my kids' teeth, but it's true. I was deeply impacted.

Maybe it's because one of my prayers has always been that God would "fill in the gaps" in all the areas where my weaknesses or failures have made holes. Holes in my parenting, holes in the way I love my kids, holes in the way I take care of them. It's hard enough to do it right with just one child, let alone five. I realize this and am often paralyzed by the thought of it. And my heart just utters a feeble, "Help, Lord!".

One of the verses God gave me when I found out I was pregnant with my sweet #5 was in Isaiah where it talks about how "even the youth will grow tired and weary, but those who wait on the Lord will have renewed strength." I'm older now and have less energy, but I felt like God was promising me that if I'd look to Him, "His right hand will uphold me", as it says in Psalms. That He will be my strength. And His strength, coupled with a thousand other aspects of His character but mostly His grace, will take care of my kids and cover over all the mistakes and all the ways I fall short in my parenting.

Little did the dentist know that his announcement would write itself upon my heart!

Toothbrushing Fiasco

So today, I descend upon a most interesting toothbrushing scene in our bathroom. Shiloh, my two-year-old, has just dipped her toothbrush into the toilet bowl "because there's water in there, Mommy!". ARE YOU KIDDING ME????!!! How does one respond to this?!!!! I thought about taking her to get dry cleaned or maybe making her swallow a gallon of hand sanitizer. But seriously...how long has this been going on?!

I have to confess I'm thinking this is what I deserve b/c I don't often supervise the daily cleansing of the teeth. The dentist asks, "So do they brush their teeth by themselves, or do you help them?" Uh...why do you ask? Is it because they're teeth are impeccable due to obvious adult intervention? Or is it because they're rotting underneath and it's obvious that Mommy has 5 kids and sometimes slacks in the grooming department?

Sigh! But I will say that this is one of those areas I freak out about. Teeth. I mean, maybe we get a little mercy, what with the baby teeth eventually falling out, but these permanent teeth...wow...they're supposed to last a lifetime. And sure, I don't let them eat candy very often, and the little ones have never taken juice sippy cups to bed...but that strawberry-flavored mouth wash formulated just for kids? REEEALLY. To me, that has "poison potential" written all over it. I mean, first of all, what kid under age 10 knows how to gargle and then spit? There's no question that about 85% of what's swished about in the mouth will be ultimately ingested. No thank you. And as for the floss...well...I confess...we floss about once a month, if that. My kids use floss as a tool, alright, but more so a tool for hanging toys from chairs, making parachutes for My Little Ponies, and such.

Let's just say I'm praying that God has some sort of miracle for redeeming spotty teeth maintenance, because the whole business of teeth is something I find completely overwhelming. Pretty much, until a kid is capable of scrubbing those things into tip-top shape all by himself/herself, we just kind of stick the toothbrush in the mouth and hope for the best. Besides...have you ever tried to brush a screaming toddler's teeth? You'd think you could really get in there and manuever, what with the wide-open mouth, but it's the kicking and thrashing that really cramp one's style.

Anyhoo...I guess if worst comes to worst, they can always fall on the graces of cosmetic dentistry. Maybe I'll start a "yeah, your mom wasn't that great at implementing a proper tooth brushing routine until you were old enough to handle it yourself, so here's some money to get caps on all your teeth when you're in your twenties" savings account. Or...and this would be a stroke of luck...maybe the bleach we clean the toilet with works wonders on the human mouth. Maybe Shiloh...maybe she's on to something!

Spilt Milk

So whoever came up with the adage "No use crying over spilt milk!" must have had a two-year-old. Seriously...I think I clean up spilt milk every other day. It's amazing how many times I hear this phrase in my head while I'm trying not to express my frustration verbally. And it's amazing how many times this has helped me keep things in perspective! Who knew?!

Little Wonders

Remember what I said about my two-year-old normally talking in big sentences? Here's something she just said. (Shiloh was drinking out of a cup with drawings on it, while Anneliese just had a plain colored cup with a star. Anneliese was talking about the star, and Shiloh responded with this):

"I don't have a star on my cup. I have people! See, Mommy? That's Clifford!"

And this kid hasn't been 2 for that long! Maybe I'm a little biased, but I think she's brilliant! :)

Then, earlier today, Maddy was rushing out the door for
school but also reciting a poem she had just written, something about popcorn. Let's just say it was full of "POP POP POP!".

Fun morning sounds, sweet little voices, little minds, full of discovery. I'm blessed!