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!

Legs and Such

So there's this Barbie leg that's been lying on the floor of our office for a few days. Finally, someone noticed it and picked it up again to play with. It just happened to be my two-year-old, Shiloh. She brings it to me. "Leg, Mommy!" (For the record, Shiloh can talk in big sentences, but I guess she didn't feel the need due to the obvious nature of the statement.)

I take it from her and proceed to imaginatively show her all the things it could be. You know, a knife, a fork, a popsicle stick, etc. After my little show, which I happen to think is brilliant and quite entertaining, she continues looking at me with her blank stare, clearly unimpressed. It's quiet for a moment as I'm smiling, waiting for some sort of recognition of my brilliance. And she says again, "...Mommmy. LEG."

Ah, well. Yes, I guess that's all it is. Although a few minutes later, I notice she had found the leg's partner and was using them as drum sticks. I sometimes laugh to myself at the thought that we don't even bat an eye at the Barbie carnage lying all over the house. In closing, I'll add that when I set out the coloring materials just now for my two littlest girls, the Barbie legs were haplessly thrown to the floor as she abandoned them for crayons. Poor Barbie!

Mid-Afternoon Panic

So for what it's worth, I'm going to describe what I'm feeling now, which is an all-too-familiar sense of panic. Why am I panicked? Why is my stomach in knots and why am I fighting this feeling like I need to instantly escape?!

It's "Mid-afternoon Panic"! Translated as such: It's 3:40. I haven't been to the grocery store this week, so I therefore have nothing to prepare for supper tonight. Husband is coming home in 2 hours expecting a family meal, and I've got nothing. Not to mention that I'm feeling really light-headed and out-of-it, which means I've either got low blood sugar or need to intake more iron. THEN, in this state, I've got to figure out how to procure food for the evening. My two oldest kids are out with my mom and will be arriving any time, which will no doubt up the volume and stress level, and I'm mentally not ready for them and their constant requests. Additionally, husband is headed back to work after dinner, which means I'll be "single momming" it all night. Ugh. AND I'm adding a three-year-old nephew to the mix, which means I will be trapped at the house b/c there's literally no room in our mini-van for all of us. PANICCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC!!!!

I'm freaking out. Everything in me is saying, "Run!! Escape!!!" But where the heck am I going to go? I feel like I need to get out of the house (because I haven't yet today), maybe go exercise or something, or maybe take a shower. But I'm started to feel a little depressed on top of it all b/c I feel like I can't win. I feel like I can't ever be on top of things. I feel trapped and like I'm stuck in this house and with these responsibilities that I can't adequately take care of. I long for the day when I'm back in my "groove" and when I'm accomplishing more than a few things every day.

This is not the best side of me, for sure. But I wanted to record it in case, if nothing else, I need my husband to read it so he understands me a little better.

AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!

Separation Anxiety

I've noticed, as a mom, that there are definite times when I desperately need to separate myself from my kids and FEEL like I'm my own person. Tonight was one of those nights. Jeremy has been working nights during the week, and while we had an AWESOME family weekend (time at friends' houses, swimming at the lake, etc.), it's Monday again, and I feel like a single parent. After supper, I loaded everyone up and we headed to a nearby gym for some much-needed "separation time".

Unfortuntely, they weren't providing childcare tonight, so my plan of taking my frustration out on the nearest treadmill fizzled. But we headed to the basketball courts, where we could all run around, shoot hoops, and just generally enjoy our own separate identities. It was SO fun, and mutually enjoyed by all! I even loosened up enough to swing my kids in circles by their arms, faster, faster, faster, so fast we almost took flight!

When we were getting ready to leave, my four-year-old, who is seriously tiny, came up to me with a sad look on her face and said, "Mommy, why am I so small?!" And I said, "What do you mean?!" She said, "My body...it's so small!" and I said, "Baby, are you feeling small tonight?" and she sadly nodded her head. Oh! Heart breaking! I tried to assure her that she would eventually grow bigger, but that's not much comfort to a wee preschooler.

When we got home just now, I was putting her in bed, and she was again bemoaning the fact that she was so little. I tried the whole "Guess what?! When you sleep, your body GROWS!" (it's true, you know!). But she put me in my place with a tearful, "but I'm not going to be bigger in the morning!". My goodness...sometimes, you want to distance yourself so far from your children that you're on different continents, and then other times, you want to draw them so close that they squish into you and you absorb them.

It's the latter times...the times you want to pull them so near...that make it all worth it. The prayer of my heart is: "GOD! Please don't let me say something that I will regret during the times my heart is far away." While I treasure my time apart, my time to remember who I am as an individual, I treasure even more the times I remember why I love being my kids' mother.