The Blessing

My house is quiet and nearly clean, if you can ignore my counter clutter and little piles here and there. I do anyways. The laundry is done (of course it's not folded or put away- yuck- who wants to do that) and the dishwasher light says "clean." In my book that is beyond success for the day.

Sometimes I wonder why time exists, some say it's God's way of keeping everything from happening to us at once. However, there are moments when everything does happen at once and time has nothing to do with it. I think that's why I can enjoy these moments so much, these moments of nothingness. I can let out a satisfying "ahhhhhhh" because now, this quiet, this simplicity, is the exact opposite of my life just an hour ago. It is God's yin and yang. You can't enjoy your blessings if you are never more than a foot away from them.

Yes, children are a blessing from God. We all know that, everyone tells you that even before you have kids, and especially when you are pregnant. Oh yes, then, little old ladies at the grocery store rub your belly and tell you all about the blessing. God Himself includes that special phrase in the Book. And in our hearts we feel it the day they are born, and every day after that, I imagine until the day we die.

But sometimes, our blessings can feel heavy, overwhelming even, and we just need that extra time away from them to realize how special they are. You know what I'm talking about. Sometimes it's just a few moments to yourself, being in your world again where people speak in your language(... nobody says anything about poo). Maybe a little coffee break or visit with a girlfriend. These are the things we need in our life to keep us sane, to keep the balance, and to rejuvenate.

Then there's date night... a whole evening sometimes even an overnight stay where you get to fully engross yourself into the you, you used to be. (note: if this hasn't happened to you for a few months... it's time... you need to admit to yourself that you really are going crazy - a night wearing girly stuff- high heels- dangly earings.. will rock your world!) This is more of a warning than a note- GET OUT OF THE HOUSE...OTHER PEOPLE WILL WATCH YOUR KIDS! I'll even watch your kids, and I might not even know you. Believe me, it's good for everyone's health.

So, we experienced an entire weekend kid-free last weekend. And I have to tell you, something amazing and magical happens when you are away from them that long. First of all you remember that they aren't the only thing that defines you, but second of all, you really your love for them multiplies, something you thought impossible. How could you love them more?

Friday I was rushing around trying to get ready. I needed to pack there stuff, my stuff, shower and look decent,so I used the trick card and put in a movie. How else could I get it all done? Of course Owen lost interest in the first ten minutes and came wondering in to see what mommy was doing. "You changing your clothes, mommy?" "Yep" "Did you get pee pee in those pants?" "no," I said laughing. "oh, poo?" I laughed harder, and scooted him out of the room. Of course his main frame of reference would be one of those two things for needed to change clothes.

When we dropped them off at my parents house, they were ready to see us go. "See ya water," Owen said opening the door to let us out. "bye, bye!!!" They were ready for some Papa and Grandma time! We left easily, I'm not one to hover, but by the next morning, I couldn't help wonder about them. They're my babies after all.

The car was so .... what was it... something felt... oh yeah, quiet. There were no screams, squeals, or giggles. No food, toys, or punches being thrown. (okay my kids don't really throw punches, but they do try to grab whatever body part they can reach on each other in the car). It was different, it was the "ahhhh." But then came the "awwww... I miss 'em."

When Sunday came I was more than ready to see them. When we saw other kids and babies at the church we went to, I was wishing they were there. I knew they'd be disruptive, and bouncy, just like usual, but they're my disruptive bouncy kids, and I love them.

I almost always use the back door at my parents house, the front door seems to formal. This time as we climbed the porch steps I could feel my anticipation rise. I saw Owen first, through the glass door, sitting on the couch. He was wearing Papa's WSU hat, one of his favorite things to do. In that instant my heart was in two places at once. It scooped him up before my arms could reach him and wrapped him in the love that is continually and forever his. I shot across the room to claim my boys. They are wonderful. My love has multiplied. They are my blessings.

Being away from them did rejuvenate me, not because they are so difficult, but sometimes we need to be away from the things we love so we don't take them for granted. I had an overwhelming feeling that is hard to describe when I held them both in my arms again. I was so happy that they were mine, like... oh yeah, I get to do this great thing every day with these great kids... I get to be A MOM!

No More Pull-Ups!

For along time it has felt like we would never be done buying diapers. It was just one of those things that you always need and when they go on sale you buy double because you know the next month you will still need them. Owen may still have a few months to go, but I think we are nearing the end of his diaper days, and Elijah is officially out of Pull-Ups!!! >yay! happy dance!!!!<
About two months ago I decided, okay it's time for this kid to stop costing us fifty cents a night just for peeing on something. But what approach to take? Martin suggested getting up at 3 or 4 to take him to the bathroom in the middle of the night... are you crazy?!!! No, I was not up for that. So I introduced a modified version. "Let's try just taking him to the bathroom before we go to bed." It took a few weeks to get the hang of it, on both sides. Sometimes I still forget, and sometimes he still cries.
He is such a deep sleeper that it really surprises him to be woken up. Most nights he is just a limp zombie using me as support to tramp to the bathroom. It's kinda cute actually. I've begun to enjoy going into his dark room, hearing those deep snores, seeing the shadow of a peaceful face... and after the job is done I get to do my favorite part- tucking him back in kissing him on the forehead, and saying a second "goodnight." Tonight his hair still smelled fresh and clean from his bath... how did he get so big?
For a while I was doing a lot of laundry. He would wake up in the early mornings wet and crying. But now after weeks of practice and a sticker chart the plan seems to be working perfectly... except on those nights when waking him up to go, escapes me. Our next milestone is for him to wake up on his own... that will truly mean potty trained freedom!
I had no idea this would take so long! This will make some of you laugh... While pregnant with him, I read lots and lots of parenting and baby magazines. I came across an article about potty training; the writer told how each of her three children had went through it differently and the last one just decided to do it on her own one day. The idea seemed easy. I knew at that point that all kids do things their own way at their own pace, for I am living proof of that (it took me the longest to learn everything from walking to how to ride a bike), so I thought this potty training thing would be more natural. I thought I was well prepared simply by reading a two-page article. Of course as he got closer to the appropriate age, I read books, asked his doctor, and made the usual efforts. But it sure has been a long long road to success.
And now that Owen is in the beginning stages of it, my insides are cringing, fearing I'm in for yet another long journey of messes, and laundry, and never quite being prepared enough.
But on the upside... trading buying Pull-Ups every month for taking Elijah to the potty at 10:30 every night- totally worth it!!!

Getting Back To Priorities

As a mom, there are many things I once valued that now I rarely think about. Priorities have taken a major revamp… mostly for the good I have to say. But there are those things, little things that I need back in my life… looking in the mirror, for instance before leaving the house.

Last week after picking Elijah up from pre-school, I decided I would be brave and attempt a post office stop with both boys in tow. I only had one envelope to mail and some stamps to pick up, but of course there was a line. I tried pre-occupying Elijah with letter games “how many letter A’s can you find,” etc. It worked fairly well, but he was still his fidgety, four-year- old self.

When it was finally our turn, Elijah handed our special envelope up on to the counter to be mailed, and then stepped behind me to do some more fidgeting. What I didn’t expect was a poke on my bottom. Yes… my four year old was poking me! I turned around trying to be discreet and whispered as sternly as I could for him to stop. As soon as I turned back to the counter, he did it again. “Elijah! Stop it!” I said. I figured he was trying to poke the button on my pants, but I couldn’t understand why that would be funny, he was giggling after all. Oh well, kids do silly unexplainable things all the time, though this was a little inappropriate in my opinion, I didn’t want to make a big deal in front of a line of people.

When we got out to the car he had a talk about poking, and I thought that was the end of it. Well, it was the end for him, but when I got home I realized that I should have been a lot more embarrassed at the post office… and at Elijah’s pre-school, and everywhere else I had been that morning. I hadn’t looked in the mirror before walking out the door, (surprise, surprise). If I had looked in the mirror, I would have noticed the large hole on the backside of my pants and the bright blue panties showing through. But I didn’t. Now I know, some priorities aren’t worth sacrificing.

MOTHERHOOD: don't forget your Machete!

I wrote this a few months ago and decided to post it here on my blog in hopes that maybe someone else is out there feeling just like me who can benefit.


I feel small, like I could slip down the drain in the kitchen sink and nobody would notice. Then again, they would notice. They’d notice an absence of nagging, yelling, and emotional tornados from the house. Who is this person I have become? I start out the day trying to be the person I know I should be, but then something happens… and that other person comes out to handle the situation, and then another thing happens and she’s taking over. I step back and don’t even recognize my life. It’s not supposed to be this way. I was going to be the calm understanding mother of respectful children who handled every situation with grace and ease. Is that even possible? I don’t think so. Motherhood has taken me by surprise on this crazy day-by-day adventure.
Most days, I’m hacking through the jungle with a machete, hoping this free-style path that I’m creating will eventually end up back to where I am supposed to be. But where is that exactly? Does anyone know? It’s exhausting- the search, the spontaneity, the mere survival of it all. Just a few more really hard days like today, and I think we’ll either make it back to the main path of balance where mother and child and family work together in harmony… or it will break me and I’ll never get turned in the right direction. I will have fallen so hard that I’ll never be able to get back up again. I know, that’s very pessimistic of me. I’m just begging for some rescue heroes to plow through the deep green overgrowth of my life on a four-wheeler, pull me aboard and show me the way. I imagine myself getting on, tuckering in for a long journey back to sanity and the right path, which will most likely be three feet away. Just like me- to give up when I was so close. But what if they never come? What if things never change? Will I be stuck in the jungle forever with monkeys and wild animals who won’t listen to a thing I say? Maybe I’ll start making my own clothes from their hides…
It’s better at night. At night I can wash away the exhaustion of the day, and after a few minutes of quiet I almost seem to forget it altogether. Maybe that’s how I’m able to keep going. The rest and the time to myself, recharges me for another day of trudging through the unknown.
I never knew it would be like this. I think that is what bothers me the most. I feel so unprepared, so inadequate- which frustrates me to no end. No one told me I would need a machete, much less that I would be making up most of the rules…where the path is, when to eat, sleep, or dance uncontrollably. These were things that felt very structured when I was growing up, like the parents all had the same handbook. When the rules were broken they knew exactly how to handle it. And there was no adventuring in the jungle; we always walked on the trail of balance and perfect harmony. I’m not saying we were perfect children by any means, but my parents somehow knew how to earn our respect gracefully, seemingly without much effort. Maybe I’m wrong; maybe it took a great deal of effort, as it currently is for me. They may have been able to disguise it better than I can.
I just can’t help feeling remorse at the end of the day, like I could have done better. I could have hacked more of the path away, gotten us closer to where we are supposed to be. I could have used smoother movements, more graceful tones, been lighter on my feet. What I have realized is that I can’t change them or their reactions to me. I can only change myself. I can give them opportunities to choose good and that is all. I can’t make that decision for them. I never knew it would be so hard, that it would hurt so much. I guess my biggest fear is that I will fail as a mother, the one thing I really wanted to be great at. My mind wanders to places far in the distance, and I can’t help knowing that what I do now affects their future every bit as much as what I will do then. Is the defiance a stage that will pass, or will it only get worse? Will an unruly almost four-year old become an uncontrollable teenager? I don’t want to believe that’s true, but sometimes it keeps me up at night.
I know discipline is healthy, and completely necessary, I just don’t want to spend ALL day playing rule enforcer! Somehow at this age I can’t escape it. They are both learning constantly and that includes boundaries of all kinds. Lately, Elijah has been testing everything possible, and even laughing at some punishments. I left him in his room with these words to end the day after he had been told several times to go to bed, “I’m going to let you choose. If you want to be good, you can lie down and go to sleep on your pillow like I asked you to. You can also choose to be naughty which will earn you a day of no fun tomorrow. I’m going to leave now and let you decide.” This works much better than time outs or spankings for Elijah. He’s a very smart little boy and deeply wants to do the right thing, so I find by giving him the option he will usually choose it. I think he also doesn’t want me to be right for some reason, so leaving the room allows him to make the decision with his own conscience. I always try to tell him that I love him after he has been punished. It feels much better when I can do this and keep myself in control, then I know I’m not acting out of anger and frustration.
Are you too using your machete? Have you found the path of balance in your life or do you too feel as if you are in the middle of an overgrown jungle?