Sideways Days

Sometimes things get crooked.  Out of place.  Sideways and upside down.  Becoming a mom can put things out of place.  I'm learning that it's ok.  Shoes go here.  Dishes go there.  No, the pillows don't belong on the floor.  But today, the pillows needed to be on the floor.  And the world will keep turning.

I wake up to this staring at me.... why hello there, Yoda.   Why oh why have you been awoken from your slumber in the middle of summer?  B. smacks it on his head and pretends to lightsaber everything in sight.  I laugh.

The boys, they push and shove and make way for a Lego army.  Almost sliding off the table.

The shoes lay about... if I could count the number of shoes NOT in the closet, I could assure you they would outnumber the shoes in the closet.  

The Cheerios are like confetti on the floor... crunch.  My shoe finds one.  Not even in the kitchen.

My dear husband walks outside to play with the kids and start the grill.  Shoes lay by the door with the beautiful crumblings of the nearly Fall leaves.   The proof of work and play.

The bath toys lay there drying.... because they obviously need 3 days to dry.

The remnants of Spiderman jumping into uniform to save the day.

The morning so full of joy and excitement that we forget to make our beds.  Bounding from under the covers to start a new day.

That broken screen that just hasn't made it to the top of the priority list.

A well played afternoon, full of pretend and laughter and fun had by those siblings who are the best of friends.  Grateful to the Lord for their friendship, even now. 

Sammie, the dog, who likes to turn up in strange places.  Poor Sammie, who usually gets jumped on, and thrown and used as a sword.

Well, hi there back, you dust specks.

And the remnants of a good cup of coffee and a PB & J sandwich for lunch.... because who has time to feed their LOs a five course meal.

Beauty in the dust specks, the crookedness, and the misplaced shoes of these sideways days.  Wouldn't trade my job for the world. 

Love Covers

Today has been glorious.  One of those productive, easy going, kids and mama in a good mood sort of days, as opposed to yesterday, which was a day I have chosen to repent and forget (and prayed the kids would forget).  I finally caught up in my kitchen… dishes washed (we don’t have a working dishwasher), and my sweet boys mopped my floor for me!  I went through all of the potential garage sale items and organized them by gender and price.  Oh, so many kids clothes.  I’ve been so blessed by family and friends… I’ve gotten so many clothes that we have not been able to use all of them!  E. grew so fast that there were only so many she could wear.  Garage sale organization paired with pre-moving organization is in full swing.  I love purging and simplifying in preparation for a move.  I’ve actually enjoyed moving so much for that particular reason: an excuse to organize and simplify. 

B. is on antibiotics for some junk in his chest.  He’s had a cough for about 5 weeks now that doesn’t seem to be getting any better (and possibly getting worse).  Even though I hate for him to be on them, nothing else seemed to be kicking it.  It’s a good thing he likes his “spicy juice”, what he endearingly calls his kombucha.  I still haven’t convinced D. it tastes good.  And I don’t think I’ve even convinced myself of it either! I just tell myself I haven’t been brewing it long enough to really perfect the method.  But I have been brave enough to experiment with some new flavors, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised. 

My sweet sister in law gets married in two weeks! I feel honored (and stressed) to be her matron of honor.  Lots of planning… my favorite thing to do, but bachelorette trips and last minute run arounds to make everything perfect tend to be a million times harder when there’s a nursing baby in the mix.  But I’m so excited, especially for her and her beau.  I just love her to pieces.  Although she’s my sister in law, I always just call her my sister.  And although she’s 6 years younger, she’s been my mentor in many ways.  Her faithfulness, joy, and spiritual insight are inspiring and uplifting. 

Tomorrow is “Academy” or as I like to call it: “my free day”.  A member from church watches all the small children in the church every Wednesday.  It has been amazing.  I actually somewhat enjoy taking my kids grocery shopping with me, but by the end of the day, we are all exhausted and cranky.  It’s nice to be able to stop by a coffee shop, take a breather, then proceed to wander the fantastic isles of Target without a mention of wanting to see toys or get a snack or “I want to go home” or having to assuage a two year old breakdown. 

It’s funny looking back to the things I would never do as a parent… I would never let my kid do this or that or talk to me this way or that.  And how can parents not see that their child is doing this?  I still thought this way after having b.  B. was such an easy child.  He would sit in a stroller and stay there until 3 years old.  Then I had D.  At two, he is mastermind of escaping confinement in any form or fashion.  I have been in the amusing situation of carrying a carseat of a screaming baby, while wrestling the hand of a defiant two year old who refuses to get off the floor while comforting the emotional breakdown of a four year old because we didn’t see the toys.  I judged moms like me.  How can she not have perfect, well behaved children?  She isn’t disciplining enough… she should have a better handle on the situation.  And let me tell you… the Lord has humbled me, humbled me greatly.  Three children has been challenging for me.  So challenging, in fact, that right now, I would like to wait at least 2 years before even thinking about more children (subject to change).  I envy mothers who have child after child and their children are loving, disciplined, and godly, and they love day in and day out and find joy in it all and want more and more children…I do desire a large family but often wonder if it’s for me.  If I’m breaking down this much with 3, how will I handle 6 or 7? The burden of raising Godly children weighs so heavy… the regrets at the end of the day, of not living life to the fullest, not loving to the fullest, not being fully there…yes, I know it shall pass.  I’ve heard all the clichés.  I’ve heard all the “motherhood in the trenches” remarks and encouragement.  I’m writing this not to complain but so that I won’t forget what this is like.  To remember and look back one day, through God’s grace, to see how I’ve grown in Him.  Each day is a sacrifice.  Motherhood is the best (and quickest) way to learn that life cannot be about just you.  That sacrifice is love and love is sacrifice.  Each day, I’m learning little by little to put down that book I’m reading or turn off the show I’m watching to play Star wars.  I don’t like to play Star Wars, I don’t want to play Star Wars.  But me playing Star Wars will show that little boy how much I love him and want to delight in him and be with him.  Me choosing to watch my show over choosing to spend time with my son will show him that my time is more important than him.  And we all know what that looks like when they grow up… A son who confides in anyone else but his mom.  And oh, it makes me cry to think of it, to think of the many times I’ve chosen me over him.  So I ask the Lord to show me ways that I can delight in my children, how I can manifest love in the best way to each one.  B. is time.  D. is undivided attention and praise.  E. just needs me to smile and talk to her and hold her and cuddle her because they aren’t babies long. 

Pinterest will not teach us to be better moms.  Facebook won’t.  Christian Mommy blogs won’t.  Only Christ, in His death and sacrifice, can teach us how to truly love.  And love covers a multitude of sins.

@alli

Reflections on Being a Mama

A rainy Spring day... Miraculously, the kids are all "resting" at once.  And even though the house has diapers and toys on the floor and dishes in the sink, I'm choosing to write.  It feels good to write again.  If you don't use it, you lose it, right? 

I haven't seriously blogged in over a year.  It's the all too common story.... life gets busy, you get writers block, and if it slides down the totem pole of priorities, well, it just won't ever get done.  Yes, I've had a baby.  Yes, I spend my life nursing and burping and changing diapers and soothing and swaddling... all of this while chasing an adorable two year old master of destruction and a lovely, talkative, imaginative four year old who always wants to play Star Wars.  For a while, I thought I was on the brink of insanity....after telling everyone weeks after delivering how easy of a baby E. was and how much easier the transition was than I thought it was going to be.  Then, at 5 weeks, for one reason or another, E. became insatiably fussy, her face looked like a 13 year old going through the worst bout of pubescent acne you've ever seen, and she was still only going about 4 hours... on a good night.  And at the same time, my cute mischievous D. was getting into everything he could find and not responding to discipline.  My poor B. was getting the brunt of Mama's tiredness and stress and was often neglected, with the TV as his only companion.  And the guilt of that just added to my stress.  I never thought of myself as a controlling person until I became a Mom of three.  I quickly realized that I was outnumbered entirely, and instead of controlling the mess, it became containing the mess.  And my OCD was not having it.  By the grace of God and the tenderness of my sweet husband, I've since come to place less importance on cleanliness and more importance on just being a Mom.  It's still hard for me to put down the dishes and pick up a light saber or put down that project that has been years in the making to just lay down and smile and talk to my baby.  But I'm learning.  And each time I forfeit the job for the person, I'm never disappointed.  Yesterday, I decided to sit down and play Legos with B.  As I pranced around as a squared off and yellow headed Lego man, we laughed and laughed.  And that smile and giggle will stay with me forever.  I mean.... c'mon... who doesn't want to see that dimpled grin?

B.  has always been easy going.  He's the perfect eptiome of a first born child.   He's an organized, creative, happy, outgoing, sweet boy.  He talks to E. in his "baby" voice, and it cracks me up.  He's so affectionate with D.and E. and says "I love you" probably 50 times a day.  It's why I'm writing... I never want to forget it.  His generous "I love you's".  I never want it to end, even though I know it will.  I want it forever ingrained in my memory... a memory of a dimpled boy smiling up at me, calling my name just to say "I love you".  And it has taught me to be more generous with my "I love yous".  I can already tell he's smart and disciplined.  He loves "school" and is always counting and writing letters and numbers.  He asks me to add numbers all the time.  "Mom, what's 4 and 2?" That combined with his love for building (and taking apart) has caused M. and I to foresee engineering in his future.  He loves his screen time and would rather play video games with Dad or play Legos inside than play outside.  This is in stark contrast with his brother who could spend ALL day outside. B. does play outside a lot, especially now that the weather is warmer and nicer, but given the choice, he's definitely a home body.  

 

D. has since learned to play with actual toys.  No really.  His favorite toys were things he could find on Dad's night stand, or the refrigerator, or glass water cups.  I think he broke about 4 glasses in the past two months.  He opened every safety door knob, and I could literally never "baby proof" the house enough.  He climbed tables and chairs and toilets and flooded sinks... in a matter of minutes.  The only thing he couldn't escape (which surprised me and relieved me) was his pack 'n play.  So every time I would nurse E. I would have to cage him.  And if you have ever caged a two year old, you know that there is a lot of screaming involved.  When my father-in-law asked how the transition was, I told him the hardest part about having 3 was D.  Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love and adore my D.  He has the personality that would win even the devil over (pardon the expression).  He is bubbly and fun loving and laughs and hugs, but he is strong willed, determined, and exploratory.  All those things that make for a hard two year old, but an amazing man when bridled and channeled in a Godly manner.  And those eyes....beautiful, big, brown.

 

E. is entering the happy 3-6 month baby stage.  I still can't believe she will be 12 weeks this Mother's Day.  My favorite part of the day has to be walking into her room in the morning to see her looking up at me with a smile so big, it makes her whole body wriggle.  Clocking in at over 12 pounds, she's chunky like her brothers were, but with a much more dainty stature.  She has the longest fingers and toes I've ever seen on a baby.  I'm always amazed at the difference in appearance from 2 months to 3 months....

 She's doing all the things 3 month old babies are doing: smiling, cooing, rolling, being happy for any portion of their tummy time.  Her hair has lightened into an auburn (can't seem to escape the red).  And it's looking like she will be keeping her blue eyes! I'm so excited she will have blue eyes like her Daddy's.  (Also, I can live vicariously through her since I always wanted blue eyes, haha!). She's in love with her brothers and follows them around the room and smiles.  And.... she's totally sleeping through the night!  She sleeps a minimum of 7 hours every night and has been for several weeks now.  She has been my best sleeper by far.  She brings so much joy to our family.... and having a girl after two boys?  It's so incredibly fun!  To see her brothers love on her and protect her makes me so happy.

So, that's my life in a nutshell of baby nutshells.  I know it's cliche, but it's all true... being a mom is hard and rewarding and fun and exhausting and emotional and physical and beautiful and so many things.  God has called me to be a mom, and it's no small job.  But it's always been the job I've wanted, not always the job I imagined, but the job that I love.

@alli

Ellie Belle is Here!

Abounding in Hope

The washer spins and stops.  Perturbed, I mash the on button once again... the fourth time today.  The clothes sopping in suds and clothes piled high on deck to be washed.  Household things breaking... it's enough to send this woman mad.  It's one of my faults, my husband says: to look at things as impossibilities instead of making it a possibility.  And it's an amazing ability my husband has: nothing is impossible; everything can be fixed with the right application of force and determination.  I love him for it.  And here I am... my washer breaks and life as I know it has come to an end.  My husband was out of town, so I took matters into my own hands, for once.  I googled and you tubed, and drained nearly 3 gallons of backed up, smelly water from a stopped up filter.  Yes! I did it! I wash the towels I just dirtied, proud of my excellent work.  The washer still wasn't fixed.  Pause after pause, it just didn't want to run through a full cycle.  So here, I could take two different turns.... I could dismay over an annoying, semi-broken washer or I could turn my thoughts toward a solution.  What's the worst that could happen?  I end up washing my clothes in the tub and taking them down to my working dryer (which I'm so thankful works like a charm!).  NOT a big deal.  My point?  My mind is weak.  I tend toward laziness and quick fixes despite my OCD perfectionism.  It's easy to just let my mind go to its natural state of complaining over this or that.  It's strength of mind that looks at a solution instead of dwelling on the problem.  New Year's resolution, perhaps?  Training my mind, taking EVERY thought captive, striving to hope... as I read in Romans 15 today.... May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. I want to be a hopeful person.  It's different.  It's strength.  It produces peace and joy!

So I pray... to overcome the stress of broken things and procrastination, knowing that God's grace is new every moment.  I pray about my broken washer because I have the hope of Christ and know that I don't have the power to fix everything in my life.  I pray about the bill that needs to be taken care of because I know He provides strength to those who ask.  Training my mind to take my knees to the floor first... because that's where the hope can be found.

Pursuing Joy

I haven't written on my blog for about a year.  We moved, we got pregnant... life changed.  I fight depression, and even the joy of writing seems drudgery.  But my husband encouraged me to start again...

Both sweeties are resting in their beds.  My husband has gone to a convention.  And I'm surviving.  Weary of a traveling husband who has been gone 3 weekends in a row, feeling the pangs of homesickness, and the tiring day to day by myself with the kids... belly bulging with life, an explosion of energetic boy, and a strong willed squealy one.  Coffee {and the sweet gentle reminders of the Lord} seem to keep me going these days. But I'm not sad.  It's the striving for perfection in an imperfect world that makes me sad.  The unwashed dishes make me sad.  The laundry load in a heap makes me sad.  The harsh, bitter comment from the innocent eyes looking up at me makes me sad.  It's everyday, and it makes me sad.  The Lord says, let go.  And I do, some days.  Constant repentance, constant prayer, constant "I don't know how to do this, but I will trust you".

I turn away from my husband, mad almost for leaving me this much.  It's not his fault, but yet the tears stream down, and I know the feeling of waking up in dread of another day without waiting for his face to walk through the door.  Knowing the constant nurturing, teaching, and patient rearing will be all mine to deal with for another day.  But somehow, the Lord helps me.  He knows weary, and He teaches me His wisdom.  How can I live in dread like this, Lord, when I know I have the ultimate hope?  What brings me to this level?  I seek it out.  And it's not what I can do to stop it, it boils down to finding out more about who He is.  And the scope of life becomes clearer, the peripherals opened.... it becomes living out worship, no matter what life flings our way.  When my child whines, it becomes arms wrapped around in love.  When the dishes aren't clean, it becomes singing hymns while diligently working, serving my family.  When the laundry piles high and no clean socks are to be found, it becomes joyful work and solving a problem.

I pray for joy in my life.  I don't always have it.  But joy comes with knowing God.  And oh God, to know you.... to be free from the constraints of social pressure of what it means to be a good wife, a good mom, a good housemaker... to just be more like you.  And that simplicity reassures me that joy is out there, mine to take, promised by God, secured by Christ.

And I have to post this... that my wise husband wrote and chatted to me, that literally made me cry and which I read everyday.....

We are in a protracted war of good vs. evil, where we have been slaughtered by grace to arise on the side of the good and struggle in everything and in every facet against a world of darkness supported by an unbeatable God and still exposed to the harshness and cruelty of trenches and mire and weapons, secure in our soul, but in perpetual hazard for our bodies and minds. You bear children not for amber tinted photos of cute childhood moments, but to face horrors and cruelty and to not fade or buckle---perfection is always strived for defiantly, with knowledge of its impossibility, but convinced that it is already an unrealized reality. No setback is discouraging because loss is gain. Even in parenting it is not a set of behaviours, but grappling with a human soul beset by the same vile nets of avarice and lust from which you have been liberated, but yet fight. It is a messy, bloody, dishelved battle on all sides. But you know it is a victory won, just as of yet unwon. It's a love that insists that every detail is perfect, but cares not when none are---that is war, that is love.