A couple weeks ago, I went to see a woman comedian at a local church with some friends. I had no idea what to expect, but I was up for a girls' night out, and I'm always up for a good laugh, so I figured it would be fun. This woman was beyond hilarious. She spit out one (clean!) joke after another and had us laughing so hard I was sure my side was going to split. She even did a few dances on stage which only caused the audience to erupt in laughter again. As she slowed down and began to share her story, her more serious side came out. She shared how she had grown up in an especially conservative home and had always felt she had to live up to a certain standard that she felt she could never attain. She felt different in church, as she just wanted to break out of those ugly choir robes and start doing the Macarena up and down the aisles! She finally came to realize that God had made her the way she was for a purpose, and instead of trying to fit into a mold that didn't fit, she embraced herself as she was. She joked about being the antithesis of the Proverbs 31 woman, whom she found quite intimidating becuase the woman woke early, went to bed late, always kept her candle burning and gathered her food from afar. "That food, ladies, I'm sure, was take -out," she joked. As she came to a close, I felt tears prick my eyes, for I felt as though her story could have been mine.
I'm not a famous comedian, nor do I think I'm super witty, but I have always felt that God made me, well, a little different. Growing up, I never quite felt like I fit into the typical mold. My mother tried teaching me to sew, but it turned out terribly disastrous. I nearly flunked home Ec, which is nearly impossible to do. I got the worst grade in the class on an atrocious crocheted reindeer I sewed; the teacher did not find the Scotch tape I used to piece it together amusing. My mother tried numerous times to teach me to sew, but I had an aversion to reading directions, following directions, or doing anything with the word "directions" for that matter. I got upset that the scissors were too small and the pattern was too flimsy and nicked myself with the stupid needle a hundred times before I even got it threaded. I finally wound up with a pair of elastic waist pants for a genie costume I wore to a Halloween dance in junior high, but I had to hold them up all night as I made them way too lose. Needless to say, that was the end of the sewing for me. I've since found a wonderful Vietnamese dry cleaner that sews buttons and hems pants for next to nothing. They dont speak English, but I don't care. We are lifelong friends.
Next, my mother tried teaching me to bake, but that didnt go over particularly well either. I didnt much like using recipes and preferred to concoct my own "creations" in the kitchen. This often resulted in a huge mess of melted chocolate and various dry cereals stuck to the bottom of a mixing bowl that I never got around to washing out, but I didn't care. To this day, I rarely use a recipe and if I do, I feel compelled to change it up a bit. Just to be rebellious, I suppose. Sometimes, this works out, but other times, not so much. These are the days we have a lot of leftovers in the fridge.
And then there were the athletics. I never aspired to be a stare athlete, but I thought that perhaps trying some sport might be good for my self esteem. I should have known when I got picked last for kickball year after year in grade school that I wasnt meant to participate in anything that involved a ball. Or a bat. Or, well, you get the point. I tried tennis lessons, but didnt have much luck with them. A season of girls softball didnt prove to be any more successful. I was more interested in the cute boy sitting in the stands and the sour candy at the snack bar than I was in playing outfield. When high school rolled around, I worked up the guts to try out for cheerleading. That didnt work out so well either. I forgot the routine halfway through and proceeded to do a bunch of impressive looking kicks that obviously didnt wow the judges. The result was a pulled muscle and wounded pride. Those were the end of my athletic days. I didnt really mind, to be honest, but I really thought it would be cool to have a picture in the yearbook of me doing something. Yearbook club, chess club, drama club, surely, I could have picked something! Instead, when one flipped to my name at the back of the yearbook, there was only one sad little page number next to it. And if one turned to that page, they would see a sad mug of a girl with a bad perm who would be forgotten by most the day we graduated.
And then there was the music. I started piano lessons at age seven and (shocker!) I actually took quite well to playing. So well, in fact, my teacher insisted I would be a concert pianist in no time. But I didnt really want to be a concert pianist. I just wanted to make up my own songs and play in my living room for an invisible audience. But I did play, sometimes in front of hundreds of people while my heart thumped wildly in my chest and my face turned beet red. And one time, I did forget my song and walked off the stage with my head held high. But that didnt keep me from playing. I was born to play, and nothing would stop me.
Since the piano was going so well, my mom suggested I try the violin, but that wasn't such a great idea. My mother, who happened to be a violin teacher, painstakingly tried showing me over and over how to hold the instrument in my arms and stand in proper position. I then remembered why I'd never tried violin in the first place: it was too much work! Why stand till your feet ached when you could sit at a piano bench? It was a no brainer!
When band time rolled around in fifth grade, I opted for the drums. Why? I simply didnt want to have to blow into anything. Again, too much work. I wanted to save my lungs for more important things, like gossiping. So I took up the drums. The bass drum, to be exact. All was going well until the day the mallet slipped out of my hand and hit the drum teacher square in the forehead. He wasn't so pleased, to say the least. Many said drums were for boys, but I chose to disagree. Plus, we had all the fun in the back of the room. While the rest of the band members had to sit in stiff chairs and squeak out parade tunes, we could take turns sticking our gum to the cupboards in the back of the room and eat potato chips when no one was looking.
When I gradutated and got married, I figured all the pressures were gone. I didnt have to impress anyone with my skills, my sports, my abilities. Wrong! Now came a whole new set of expectations as I dove into motherhood and became a homemaker. Homemakers, I learned, are called just that for a reason. They make a home. They cook gourmet meals, they decorate Martha Stewart style, they host fancy parties, they dust on a weekly basis, they have clean toilets and perfectly folded laundry, and of course, they are crafty. For years, I tried to keep up. I threw the fancy parties, slaved away at dishes I could hardly pronounce, and tried keeping a clean house, all to no avail. Humbling to me was the day a woman came to visit my new baby and offered to mop my kitchen floor! Granted, there were sticky things wedged under the chairs that had been lying dormant for weeks now, but still! I was so embarrassed. And then there was my lack of, shall we say, crafting ability. I spent five years in MOPS, where I enjoyed wonderful speakers, a brunch and new friends. What I did NOT enjoy was the craft. Inevitibly, we'd have to make some stupid popsicle stick picture frame or, heaven forbid, something involving paint, and that always turned out disastrous. Most of my projects ended up in the garbage when I got home, or, if they were halfway decent, I'd claim my kindergartener made it and say "We are just so proud of him!" On one occasion, I was actually quite proud of my hand painted apron I'd created. But by the time I got it to the car, a huge gust of wind kicked up and blew the darned apron straight into my face. Paint everywhere. You get the picture. Another one for the trash.
For years, this went on. Me trying to be the Proverbs 31 woman, wondering why on earth God hadnt made me a morning person, wondering if I'd ever "get my act together" and have a clean, well organized house like my next door neighbor. I attended seminars on organization, but I fell asleep in the middle of them. To organize things, you had to be organized, and that just wasnt me. It's like being pregnant. You either are or you aren't. And I'm not.
And then there was the church thing. The super "good" church ladies prayed elegant prayers and made the best croissants for the brunches and volunteered at all the functions and said just the right thing at the right time. And then there was me, with my sincere but sort of embarrassing prayers, always sticking my foot in my mouth. As for the croissants? Mine were usually store bought, or if they were homemade, I'd usually forget an ingredient or two, and then wonder why a whole plate of them was left after the function. Always a day too late and a dollar too short, as my grandmother would say. I just couldnt get it "right."
But over these last two years (the most difficult of my life) I've learned to give myself grace. I've come to learn who I truly am, and I'm finally okay with that. Someone once said that growing up is about learning not just who you are, but who you arent. I finally understand who I'm not. I'm not a prim and proper gourmet Martha Stewart cook whose house could be pictured in Sunset magazine. I'm not a seamstress, I'm not a crafter, I'm not an athlete. For years, I've thought it would be cool to run a marathon, but I've finally resigned to this idea. For me, running is, well, pure torture. While others find it exhiliarating, I find it excruciating. I wonder why anyone would want to purposely inflict pain on themselves. I mean, I get it, the cute shoes, the medals, the adrenaline rush..I just cant do it. But guess what? I love to kickbox. I love lifting weights, I love walking, and I love sleeping (which I've deemed a new sport for all those new mommies out there!)
Other things I'm not? Super clean, super disciplined, super smart. But you know what? I'm okay with that. Why? Because I know who I am. I'm fun (at least I've been told that on occasion), I'm a writer, I'm a musician (even though I flunked violin and cant hold a tune to save my life!) I'm a good friend, I'm a decent mom, I'm a semi good cook (semi because the recipes only turn out good some of the time..but when they do, they're really good!) I'm deep but not super serious, I'm sarcastic and absent minded, I'm sensitive and compassionate. I dont need to be my mother, your mother, or anyone else's mother. I dont need to be Martha Stewart (who by the way I never wanted to be anyway!) and I'm not Beethoven or Serena Williams. I'm probably not the person you'd want heading up your bake sale or organizing your prayer meeting, but I do make a pretty mean potato casserole. If you come to my house, you might find things stuck the floor, the pillows might not be fluffed and the kids might be runing around half naked. But I can gurantee a good conversation and a nice shoulder to cry on.
I wish I'd figured this all out before, but alas, it's taken me 33 years to just sort of scratch the surface. Still, I must say, I feel more free than I have in my life. I'll never forget that comedian, for she helped me to see that we dont all have to fit into a nice, pretty box, that we dont have to be who "they" (whoever they is, anyway!) say we have to be. God's made us all different, all unique, and if I'm going to keep telling my kids that I'm going to have to start believing it too!
May 2, 2010
Mar 6, 2010
Beware...Work in Progress!
Wow! I glanced at the last blog date and realized it has been over a year since I've posted on here! Where does the time go when you're uh, having fun?! I started this blog to share lighthearted stories about the adventures in mommyhood, but with the recent events in my life, I thought I'd expand my "genre" in hopes that you might be encouraged, or, perhaps, encourage ME! :)
In November of 2009, my husband was laid off from his job...one of the many victims of the terrible economic crisis in the U.S. A month away from completing his masters degree, my husband, who also holds a CPA license, never dreamed it would be his turn. Jobs had always come easily to him in the past..a bit too easily, to be honest. Boy, were we about to be humbled.
I found out about his job loss on my way home from a doctor's appointment, during which the doctor had informed me that my oldest son had broken his foot. This came on top of another medical crisis..my younger son had sliced his finger open with a knife three days earlier, cutting through a nerve and a tendon. He would need surgery the following week. Having struggled with my own set of health problems for the past two years, I felt I was literally at the cracking point. So, it may not come as a surprise to you that when my husband delivered the news (via cell phone..as I was pulling out of the doctors parking lot) that I laughed half the way home and then cried the rest of the way. My oldest son simply patted my arm and told me "God wants us to have joy in our trials, remember, Mom?" Pretty impressive coming from a 13 year old. I'm embarrassed to say I had a hard time swallowing his advice. Sure, I knew the verse (James 1) but joy seemed the farthest thing from my mind at the moment. Panic? Yes. Exhaustion? Check. But joy? Not so much.
Its' been four months since that day. My husband is still out of work, without one call back on the dozens of resumes he's sent out. To summarize, it's been a roller coaster ride. One day, I'm up, the next day, I'm down. Some days, it's all I can do to pull my body out of bed. I wish I could tell you that I have tremendous faith, but some days, it feels more like that little mustard seed. I want to see the end result.and I want to see it now! I'm a victim of the microwave society that wants everything fixed in a moment's time. Internet down for five minutes? Let's hope we don't have a heart attack! Three cars in front of us in the Taco Bell drive thru? A litle faster, please! We want to snap our fingers and solve the world's problems, including our own, but sometimes it's not quite as simple as that. You see, there's work to be done. Things God wants to show us. Lessons to be learned. Grace to be found. Joys to be shared. And none of that could be possible if we lived in a perfect world without trials. We want comfortable, but how does one grow when everything's peachy keen 24/7? Boy, if anyone needs work, it's me! Just like a house in the middle of a remodel, I'm a work in progress. Most remodels take longer than expected. The process is sometimes painful, agonizing and frustrating. But the results? Stunning. A few years ago, our friends remodeled their home, nearly doubling the square footage. You can imagine all the work that was involved. The project was expected to take six months but ended up taking two years! It was through much blood, sweat and tears that that house was finally complete. It is beautiful, let me tell you. Granite counters, cherry wood cabinets, an ornately carved front door that sets the stage for what's to come inside. But it wasn't always this way. Dust and nails littered the floor, light fixtures hung half finished from the ceiling, holes in the drywall made one wonder if the house might literally come crumbling down in the process. But in the end, our friends got the beautiful house of their dreams. Oh, the landscaping still has yet to be done. Weeds cover the front and back yard, an afterthought in the process. But the overall project is complete. And if you ask my friends, they'll say it was all worth it.
I like to think my life is something like that remodel. Years ago, I didnt think I needed a remodel. I thought I was just fine the way I was. Life was going along swimmingly, and I was content, comfortable. And that was just the problem, you see. I was comfortable. It was when the trials began to hit...my son's special needs, a health crisis, a devastating move, the loss of a dear friend, the foreclosure of our home, and most recently, a job loss, that that comfy little bubble began to crack. Everything I thought I was and everything I thought I knew was shaken to the core. Oh sure, I knew the verses. I knew the sermons. I knew the songs. I knew what to do, but did I really believe it? Did I really believe God was good, had a plan, cares about our every need, provides for the birds and provides for his kids? Sometimes, I wasn't so sure. I got angry at God, plain mad. One evening, I went out into my garage and threw things at the wall. Before you write me off as crazy, hear me out. It was one of the most exhiliarating things I've done in my life. I picked up everything on the ground that looked invaluable and threw it as hard as I could at the wall. Bam! Bam! Boy, it felt better than kickboxing at the gym! And then, after a few minutes, I took a deep breath, walked back inside and read a bedtime story to my daughter. I never did it again, but I sometimes think about that moment and laugh to myself. A remodel? I need a full demolition, I'm afraid! :)
The good news is, those dust and nails on the ground don't stay there forever. One by one, we pick them up, throw them away and start polishing that new floor. And little by little, we see glimpses of the road ahead, the one that points to hope. A hope that can only come from a God who cares, despite what we think or feel at the moment. Perhaps one of the most exciting things in this process has been to see how God has provided for our family. Sometimes it's in the big things, like a family member helping with our rent. And sometimes it's in the little things, like a free fast food coupon that comes in the mail, or a friend saying "Coffee's on me today." At Christmas time, two different anonymous friends sent sweet cards with money tucked inside. I was truly touched and so thankful for their generosity. My son's youth group paid his way to winter camp a few weeks ago, a huge blessing, as he certainly couldnt have gone without that help. A rebate check from Costco came just in time last week, providing groceries for the week. A group of wonderful strangers at a yard sale found my missing wallet and stuffed money inside and prayed for me (that's another story in itself!) Several companies have asked my husband to come and do contract work for them part time, which has equated to nearly a full time job! Just when we think the work might be drying up, more seems to come. The publishing company I write for has acquired more work the past few weeks, another answer to prayer! The bills are being paid...on time! Only God can take the credit for all that!
Our future hangs before us like a giant question mark. If work does not come eventually, do we pack up and move away? I've always been a planner to some degree. I like to glance at my calendar and know what's going on in three months, six months, even a year from now. But the last few years have shown me that, as the verse says, a man can try to plan his life, but it's God who determines his path. I like to believe I have some control over the situation, that if I only pray harder, trust more, something will soon turn up. I like to think that if I could just see that everything's going to be okay in four months, I could get through the next three.But I forget that's in the waiting that the work is being done. One by one, those old windows are being ripped out, replaced by beautiful, clear ones that shine from across the room. I dont want to be an old window. And if it takes getting dirty and dusty in the process of being replaced, so be it. And so we wait. And trust. And believe. Even when it feels like a mustard seed and a mountain.
The recent Haiti quake didn't just rattle a foreign, impoverished country. It rattled us all. Once again, we were reminded that we aren't in control, that in an instant, our world as we know it can come crashing down. We were reminded that only one thing remains constant, certain, the same. God doesn't waver. He doesn't change. He's still got it all figured out. Nothing is too hard for him. And even when we don't get it, and wind up in the garage throwing old plastic lunch boxes at the wall, he isn't shaken. He's the one sure thing.
In the meantime, I'm riding out the roller coaster, trusting, questioning, wondering, waiting, believing. Up, down, up, down. I joke to my husband that as long as both of us aren't down at the same time we'll be okay. So far, so good. I'm remembering my blessings and taking nothing for granted. Hot water, clothes on our back, a (mostly) running car, four healthy kids? Thank you, God. Simplifying's not such a bad thing either. Who knew a game of Connect Four on a Friday night could be so much fun? And, I admit, I've become rather obsessed with finding deals. The challenge of a bargain holds almost as much thrill as a grande nonfat White Chocolate Mocha from Starbucks, and that's saying a lot for a coffee snob like me! Clipping coupons from the Sunday paper is the highlight of my week. Literally. And if you pity me, please don't. I'd take a good yard sale over a Macy's sale any day of the week.
So, in a nutshell, that's my life. I'm a work in progress. You might not want to step inside my doors right now, becuase there's an awful big mess inside. But little by little, God's cleaning it up. Restoring, refinishing, remodeling. Don't you love those "re" words? They hold so much hope! And that, my friends, is what we must hold onto. Hope for tomorrow, hope for a new day, hope because we know that in the end, the finished product will be beautiful. And worth it.
In November of 2009, my husband was laid off from his job...one of the many victims of the terrible economic crisis in the U.S. A month away from completing his masters degree, my husband, who also holds a CPA license, never dreamed it would be his turn. Jobs had always come easily to him in the past..a bit too easily, to be honest. Boy, were we about to be humbled.
I found out about his job loss on my way home from a doctor's appointment, during which the doctor had informed me that my oldest son had broken his foot. This came on top of another medical crisis..my younger son had sliced his finger open with a knife three days earlier, cutting through a nerve and a tendon. He would need surgery the following week. Having struggled with my own set of health problems for the past two years, I felt I was literally at the cracking point. So, it may not come as a surprise to you that when my husband delivered the news (via cell phone..as I was pulling out of the doctors parking lot) that I laughed half the way home and then cried the rest of the way. My oldest son simply patted my arm and told me "God wants us to have joy in our trials, remember, Mom?" Pretty impressive coming from a 13 year old. I'm embarrassed to say I had a hard time swallowing his advice. Sure, I knew the verse (James 1) but joy seemed the farthest thing from my mind at the moment. Panic? Yes. Exhaustion? Check. But joy? Not so much.
Its' been four months since that day. My husband is still out of work, without one call back on the dozens of resumes he's sent out. To summarize, it's been a roller coaster ride. One day, I'm up, the next day, I'm down. Some days, it's all I can do to pull my body out of bed. I wish I could tell you that I have tremendous faith, but some days, it feels more like that little mustard seed. I want to see the end result.and I want to see it now! I'm a victim of the microwave society that wants everything fixed in a moment's time. Internet down for five minutes? Let's hope we don't have a heart attack! Three cars in front of us in the Taco Bell drive thru? A litle faster, please! We want to snap our fingers and solve the world's problems, including our own, but sometimes it's not quite as simple as that. You see, there's work to be done. Things God wants to show us. Lessons to be learned. Grace to be found. Joys to be shared. And none of that could be possible if we lived in a perfect world without trials. We want comfortable, but how does one grow when everything's peachy keen 24/7? Boy, if anyone needs work, it's me! Just like a house in the middle of a remodel, I'm a work in progress. Most remodels take longer than expected. The process is sometimes painful, agonizing and frustrating. But the results? Stunning. A few years ago, our friends remodeled their home, nearly doubling the square footage. You can imagine all the work that was involved. The project was expected to take six months but ended up taking two years! It was through much blood, sweat and tears that that house was finally complete. It is beautiful, let me tell you. Granite counters, cherry wood cabinets, an ornately carved front door that sets the stage for what's to come inside. But it wasn't always this way. Dust and nails littered the floor, light fixtures hung half finished from the ceiling, holes in the drywall made one wonder if the house might literally come crumbling down in the process. But in the end, our friends got the beautiful house of their dreams. Oh, the landscaping still has yet to be done. Weeds cover the front and back yard, an afterthought in the process. But the overall project is complete. And if you ask my friends, they'll say it was all worth it.
I like to think my life is something like that remodel. Years ago, I didnt think I needed a remodel. I thought I was just fine the way I was. Life was going along swimmingly, and I was content, comfortable. And that was just the problem, you see. I was comfortable. It was when the trials began to hit...my son's special needs, a health crisis, a devastating move, the loss of a dear friend, the foreclosure of our home, and most recently, a job loss, that that comfy little bubble began to crack. Everything I thought I was and everything I thought I knew was shaken to the core. Oh sure, I knew the verses. I knew the sermons. I knew the songs. I knew what to do, but did I really believe it? Did I really believe God was good, had a plan, cares about our every need, provides for the birds and provides for his kids? Sometimes, I wasn't so sure. I got angry at God, plain mad. One evening, I went out into my garage and threw things at the wall. Before you write me off as crazy, hear me out. It was one of the most exhiliarating things I've done in my life. I picked up everything on the ground that looked invaluable and threw it as hard as I could at the wall. Bam! Bam! Boy, it felt better than kickboxing at the gym! And then, after a few minutes, I took a deep breath, walked back inside and read a bedtime story to my daughter. I never did it again, but I sometimes think about that moment and laugh to myself. A remodel? I need a full demolition, I'm afraid! :)
The good news is, those dust and nails on the ground don't stay there forever. One by one, we pick them up, throw them away and start polishing that new floor. And little by little, we see glimpses of the road ahead, the one that points to hope. A hope that can only come from a God who cares, despite what we think or feel at the moment. Perhaps one of the most exciting things in this process has been to see how God has provided for our family. Sometimes it's in the big things, like a family member helping with our rent. And sometimes it's in the little things, like a free fast food coupon that comes in the mail, or a friend saying "Coffee's on me today." At Christmas time, two different anonymous friends sent sweet cards with money tucked inside. I was truly touched and so thankful for their generosity. My son's youth group paid his way to winter camp a few weeks ago, a huge blessing, as he certainly couldnt have gone without that help. A rebate check from Costco came just in time last week, providing groceries for the week. A group of wonderful strangers at a yard sale found my missing wallet and stuffed money inside and prayed for me (that's another story in itself!) Several companies have asked my husband to come and do contract work for them part time, which has equated to nearly a full time job! Just when we think the work might be drying up, more seems to come. The publishing company I write for has acquired more work the past few weeks, another answer to prayer! The bills are being paid...on time! Only God can take the credit for all that!
Our future hangs before us like a giant question mark. If work does not come eventually, do we pack up and move away? I've always been a planner to some degree. I like to glance at my calendar and know what's going on in three months, six months, even a year from now. But the last few years have shown me that, as the verse says, a man can try to plan his life, but it's God who determines his path. I like to believe I have some control over the situation, that if I only pray harder, trust more, something will soon turn up. I like to think that if I could just see that everything's going to be okay in four months, I could get through the next three.But I forget that's in the waiting that the work is being done. One by one, those old windows are being ripped out, replaced by beautiful, clear ones that shine from across the room. I dont want to be an old window. And if it takes getting dirty and dusty in the process of being replaced, so be it. And so we wait. And trust. And believe. Even when it feels like a mustard seed and a mountain.
The recent Haiti quake didn't just rattle a foreign, impoverished country. It rattled us all. Once again, we were reminded that we aren't in control, that in an instant, our world as we know it can come crashing down. We were reminded that only one thing remains constant, certain, the same. God doesn't waver. He doesn't change. He's still got it all figured out. Nothing is too hard for him. And even when we don't get it, and wind up in the garage throwing old plastic lunch boxes at the wall, he isn't shaken. He's the one sure thing.
In the meantime, I'm riding out the roller coaster, trusting, questioning, wondering, waiting, believing. Up, down, up, down. I joke to my husband that as long as both of us aren't down at the same time we'll be okay. So far, so good. I'm remembering my blessings and taking nothing for granted. Hot water, clothes on our back, a (mostly) running car, four healthy kids? Thank you, God. Simplifying's not such a bad thing either. Who knew a game of Connect Four on a Friday night could be so much fun? And, I admit, I've become rather obsessed with finding deals. The challenge of a bargain holds almost as much thrill as a grande nonfat White Chocolate Mocha from Starbucks, and that's saying a lot for a coffee snob like me! Clipping coupons from the Sunday paper is the highlight of my week. Literally. And if you pity me, please don't. I'd take a good yard sale over a Macy's sale any day of the week.
So, in a nutshell, that's my life. I'm a work in progress. You might not want to step inside my doors right now, becuase there's an awful big mess inside. But little by little, God's cleaning it up. Restoring, refinishing, remodeling. Don't you love those "re" words? They hold so much hope! And that, my friends, is what we must hold onto. Hope for tomorrow, hope for a new day, hope because we know that in the end, the finished product will be beautiful. And worth it.
Feb 14, 2009
Confessions of a Not So Perfect Mommy
1. I sometimes hide in the closet, the pantry or bathroom when things get a bit too hairy at my house. These seem to be the only places I am able to make and carry on phone calls as well. I sometimes bring a book in and stay a while, even if the pounding on the door gets louder and louder. I wish my house was bigger sometimes so there were more places to hide...
2. I am not very good at playing. Meaning, I don't particularly enjoy getting on the ground and zooming Matchbox cars around or dressing up Barbie in a prom gown. I know that I did it as a child, but it was somehow a lot more fun back then. I am, however, a great story reader, so that makes me feel a bit better about my mothering abilities.
3. I get super mad (inside of course) when my kids try to steal a sip of my precious four dollar Starbucks drink or sneak a bite of my Chipotle taco. I share everything with them, and have given up everything from my body to my bed to my sanity..can't a girl have one thing to herself once in a while without feeling guilty?
4. I sometimes let my kids watch too much TV, or play too many computer games. I know, terrible, but they've learned so much..it's practically like sending them to college for free!
5. I sometimes get resentful that I cannot blast my "mommy" music in the car and instead must subject myself to certain, um, tunes. Barney, thankful, has never been one of them, but if I hear "Them Bones" one more time I'm gonna....
6. I grit my teeth when I hear "Mom!!" when I've already tucked my kids into bed and then tucked myself into bed under my comfy covers. I do not want to trudge downstairs to get one more glass of water when I've already "expired." I do, however, sometimes fear that the cry wolf scenario might play out and I might ignore the cries and find someone tied up downstairs when I wake up. But so far, that hasn't happened...
7. I did mention I am a super good story reader, but I will now confess that I sometimes skip words in a story. Lots of words. Like, almost all of them. But now my six year old daughter can read, so I have to be more careful.
8. I never really liked breastfeeding. In fact, I didn't like a minute of it. I never understood the "bonding" everyone talked about. I just felt like a giant milking cow the whole time. My husband wasn't too keen on it either. But, I did it because it was good for them, and it seems to have paid off as they're pretty healthy. So it was worth it, I think...
9. I throw away the kids' Sunday School papers as soon as we get home. Unless, of course, it's a super cute Noah's Ark or a hand printed Valentine or something special. But honestly, what's a mother to do with a zillion coloring pages? Even Grandma's fridge is getting too full...
10. I am sometimes still in awe that God thought me fit to raise four beautiful kiddos. I feel so humbled sometimes when I think about all my shortcomings. This is where his amazing grace comes in, which I'm eternally thankful!
P.S. I love my kids to death. This, I must confess! :)
2. I am not very good at playing. Meaning, I don't particularly enjoy getting on the ground and zooming Matchbox cars around or dressing up Barbie in a prom gown. I know that I did it as a child, but it was somehow a lot more fun back then. I am, however, a great story reader, so that makes me feel a bit better about my mothering abilities.
3. I get super mad (inside of course) when my kids try to steal a sip of my precious four dollar Starbucks drink or sneak a bite of my Chipotle taco. I share everything with them, and have given up everything from my body to my bed to my sanity..can't a girl have one thing to herself once in a while without feeling guilty?
4. I sometimes let my kids watch too much TV, or play too many computer games. I know, terrible, but they've learned so much..it's practically like sending them to college for free!
5. I sometimes get resentful that I cannot blast my "mommy" music in the car and instead must subject myself to certain, um, tunes. Barney, thankful, has never been one of them, but if I hear "Them Bones" one more time I'm gonna....
6. I grit my teeth when I hear "Mom!!" when I've already tucked my kids into bed and then tucked myself into bed under my comfy covers. I do not want to trudge downstairs to get one more glass of water when I've already "expired." I do, however, sometimes fear that the cry wolf scenario might play out and I might ignore the cries and find someone tied up downstairs when I wake up. But so far, that hasn't happened...
7. I did mention I am a super good story reader, but I will now confess that I sometimes skip words in a story. Lots of words. Like, almost all of them. But now my six year old daughter can read, so I have to be more careful.
8. I never really liked breastfeeding. In fact, I didn't like a minute of it. I never understood the "bonding" everyone talked about. I just felt like a giant milking cow the whole time. My husband wasn't too keen on it either. But, I did it because it was good for them, and it seems to have paid off as they're pretty healthy. So it was worth it, I think...
9. I throw away the kids' Sunday School papers as soon as we get home. Unless, of course, it's a super cute Noah's Ark or a hand printed Valentine or something special. But honestly, what's a mother to do with a zillion coloring pages? Even Grandma's fridge is getting too full...
10. I am sometimes still in awe that God thought me fit to raise four beautiful kiddos. I feel so humbled sometimes when I think about all my shortcomings. This is where his amazing grace comes in, which I'm eternally thankful!
P.S. I love my kids to death. This, I must confess! :)
Oct 27, 2008
My Guilt Free Holiday Season
The holidays are just around the corner, and as the panic starts to rise inside of me at the thought of digging the Christmas decorations out of the dusty closet in the garage (I never did find the fall ones..is it too late for those?) I refuse to let the guilt get ahold of me this year. Therefore, before any of the madness even starts, I will make myself some guilt-free rules.
1. I will not beat myself up because I don't know how to make those cutesie little bows on top of packages, even though I was hired as a gift wrapper at a department store years ago and had an employee show me over and over how to make them. My presents may be simply wrapped (or gift bagged, for that matter!) but I will remember that it is the gift inside that matters, not the packaging.
2. I will not spend hours trying to get the perfect family photo to send out to friends and family (ie: the photo in which all six family members are matched to the tee, smiling, standing up straight, and arranged in front of the Fashion Island Christmas tree) If I have to use a family photo from the beach this summer in which we are all sandy and mussy-haired but accounted for, I will do so.
3. I will not fret about baking twelve dozen cookies for the annual cookie exhange this year. If I do muster the energy to bake myself into an oblivion, I will not feel bad if mine are not the prettiest on the table and/or if they are the bar kind you can cut into teeny little pieces.
4. I will not spend hours at the mall, Target, etc in search of the perfect gift for each person on my list. I will do my best, but if I have to resign to online and catalog shopping, so be it. And if the perfect gift cannot be found within reason, I will remind myself that the people on my list should love me just as I am, not for the gifts I might buy them.
5. I will not let it be the end of the world if I have to settle for an e-mailed Christmas card this year, as the thought of licking 75 envelopes, addressing them by hand and purchasing stamps seems a bit daunting. (Thank you, facebook, blogs and the like. You can all see my family at their finest on your computer and save it forever)
6. I will not worry if my house is not picture perfect when the family arrives, or if there are dust bunnies under the guest bed and crumbs on the floor. The most important thing is spending time with those we love, not impressing them, right??
7. I will not feel bad if we don't eat on our Christmas china or make hot cocoa in those adorable glass snowman mugs I have because I simply don't feel like doing four loads of dishes. Paper plates are a wonderful invention, and even come in festive colors. Though, if we eat on plain white, I won't bat an eye at it either.
8. I will not cry if we have to set up the fake Christmas tree instead of trekking up to the mountains or the Home Depot parking lot in search of a perfectly symmetrical pine tree. Fake trees can be decorated nicely these days, and some even come with a fresh pine scent. No fire hazard included.
9. I will not fret if I have to wear the same black dress I wore to the annual work Christmas party last year. I will remind myself that I am being economical and practical, that no one will really care what I wear anyway, and that I should be thankful it still fits after my dive into the fudge tin last Christmas.
10. I will not, under any circumstances, bear any guilt if I regift a present this year. (Don't worry, it won't be yours. )
1. I will not beat myself up because I don't know how to make those cutesie little bows on top of packages, even though I was hired as a gift wrapper at a department store years ago and had an employee show me over and over how to make them. My presents may be simply wrapped (or gift bagged, for that matter!) but I will remember that it is the gift inside that matters, not the packaging.
2. I will not spend hours trying to get the perfect family photo to send out to friends and family (ie: the photo in which all six family members are matched to the tee, smiling, standing up straight, and arranged in front of the Fashion Island Christmas tree) If I have to use a family photo from the beach this summer in which we are all sandy and mussy-haired but accounted for, I will do so.
3. I will not fret about baking twelve dozen cookies for the annual cookie exhange this year. If I do muster the energy to bake myself into an oblivion, I will not feel bad if mine are not the prettiest on the table and/or if they are the bar kind you can cut into teeny little pieces.
4. I will not spend hours at the mall, Target, etc in search of the perfect gift for each person on my list. I will do my best, but if I have to resign to online and catalog shopping, so be it. And if the perfect gift cannot be found within reason, I will remind myself that the people on my list should love me just as I am, not for the gifts I might buy them.
5. I will not let it be the end of the world if I have to settle for an e-mailed Christmas card this year, as the thought of licking 75 envelopes, addressing them by hand and purchasing stamps seems a bit daunting. (Thank you, facebook, blogs and the like. You can all see my family at their finest on your computer and save it forever)
6. I will not worry if my house is not picture perfect when the family arrives, or if there are dust bunnies under the guest bed and crumbs on the floor. The most important thing is spending time with those we love, not impressing them, right??
7. I will not feel bad if we don't eat on our Christmas china or make hot cocoa in those adorable glass snowman mugs I have because I simply don't feel like doing four loads of dishes. Paper plates are a wonderful invention, and even come in festive colors. Though, if we eat on plain white, I won't bat an eye at it either.
8. I will not cry if we have to set up the fake Christmas tree instead of trekking up to the mountains or the Home Depot parking lot in search of a perfectly symmetrical pine tree. Fake trees can be decorated nicely these days, and some even come with a fresh pine scent. No fire hazard included.
9. I will not fret if I have to wear the same black dress I wore to the annual work Christmas party last year. I will remind myself that I am being economical and practical, that no one will really care what I wear anyway, and that I should be thankful it still fits after my dive into the fudge tin last Christmas.
10. I will not, under any circumstances, bear any guilt if I regift a present this year. (Don't worry, it won't be yours. )
Sep 12, 2008
On the other side now..or somewhere in between...
I had a small epiphane today in Target, of all places. I was passing the baby aisles, and for the first time in what seems like ages, I kept on going! Yup, no baby wipes to buy, no diapers in bulk, no bibs, baby spoons, teensie rattles, rash ointment...you name it, don't need it! Whew! What a strange feeling! Four kids and one tubal ligation later, my baby years are officially behind me. I should have been thrilled for this moment, should have literally stopped mid tracks in Target and done a cartwheel or two. But to be honest, I felt a twinge of sadness as I steered away from the diapers. I paused, racking my brain to think of someone I could buy diapers for. Or anything baby. Those teeny overalls are simply irresistible! And those chenille baby blankets? I want one in my size, please! Alas, no one came to mind. All of my friends, you see, are past their baby years too. What a strange feeling! Years of going to showers, oohing and aahing over pink baby booties and flowered dresses and tiny velcro hair bows...poof..over! Sleepless nights covered in baby spit up and crusty breast milk...gone! Again, you'd think I'd be jumping for joy, and truly, I have no desire to don those nasty nursing pads or DD nursing bras anymore, thank you. But right there in Target, for just a second, I actually missed it. All of it. The weary, bleary days of pushing the double stroller through those very aisles, absentmindedly grabbing for any generic pack of diapers that seemed to remotely fit my child. Frantically juggling a crying baby and screaming toddler at the check out line as I plopped my coupons down on the counter and fished for my Visa card in a sweat. Staggering out to the parking lot, breathing heavily, near panic attack, only to sit there for a good half an hour while the ice cream melted in the trunk as I nursed my howling, hungry baby. Turning up the radio to drown out the noise as I sped on home, praying that someone, anyone would fall asleep, and wishing at the same time that someone could be me!! Yes, I miss those days...maybe just a bit. Not enough to return, but enough to look back with fondness, laughter, and tears. The kindly woman at the check out line who gently tapped my shoulder and said "It goes so quickly, dear" was so right. With three kids in school, I now have time to actually saunter over to the Starbucks counter, ponder my options for more than two seconds, and enjoy a hot cup of coffee at my leisure before I begin my shopping. There is no wailing baby in the car seat strapped to the cart, no leaking boobs in the shoe aisle, no need to buy diapers, wipes...did I already say that?? And so I enter a new phase of my life. Not quite an "old" mom, but not so new anymore. Seasoned, I guess you could say, considering my oldest just started junior high. Not seasoned enough, though, that I can resist calling my mother in tears when my youngest wets his pants at Disneyland on the train ride. Not seasoned enough that I can safely say the temper tantrum days are behind me. No, I'm just hanging out somewhere in between. Reminiscing, enjoying, looking forward. Someday, these days too will be behind me. I'm thankful I'm now sane enough to enjoy them.
Sep 8, 2008
Journeys
Okay, so I am a bit addicted to Facebook. I didnt think I would ever get caught up in something like that, but it is actually pretty cool! I've found old friends and new alike, and come to discover that it's a great way to stay connected. Plus, it seems a bit more, shall we say, adult? than myspace. Or at least that is what I tell myself when I'm chatting away with my friends at midnight online!
One of the most interesting things about it is finding out where people ended up and what they are doing. I recently found one of my childhood best friends on there. She ended up becoming a chef, which didn't surprise me in the least, as growing up, her step dad was the most fabulous cook I'd ever met. She is married and has three kids and lives in Oregon. Another friend from junior high turned out to be a chemist (I always knew she was smart!) and is now getting her PhD in Europe! Wow! Puts me to shame!
As I think about these different friends, it strikes me as amazing at the different journeys we all ended up taking. As children, we were all the same, for the most part. We spent our days running through the sprinklers and licking Popsicles made from Tupperware molds, and crossed our fingers for a decent grade on our science fair project. We had crushes, made friendships in 2.2 seconds on the playground, and hoped for our favorite teacher each year. We had pesky siblings, watched Disney movies at sleep overs while rolling our hair in big curlers, and tried to not act too cool when we shaved our legs for the first time.
Now, here we are in our thirties, some of us with children, some not, some married, some not, some living on opposite sides of the States, and even the world! Who would have ever guessed these things growing up? Who could have known?
I, for one, knew I wanted to write since the first grade. My teacher told my mother I was an aspiring writer, and that was that. I never wanted to be anything else. I wanted to get married, and have two girls and a boy. I hadnt a clue the twists and turns life would take me on as my future unfolded.
The girl in the silly pink curlers at the slumber party didn't know she'd find herself a single mom at the age of 19, when most kids are still deciding on junior college. The girl in the Taco Bell uniform (yup, that was me, thank you very much!) hadn't a clue that one day she'd meet her husband on the Internet of all places, and wind up in a whirlwind romance that began on a pier in San Francisco and ended up in southern California. And the girl who dreamed about two little girls and a boy? Well, not quite. Three boys and one girl later (thanks to lots of prayer!) I got my sweet little red head and a car full of stinky soccer cleats!
Journeys. Where we begin, where we end up. My journey continued as the Lord led us to Arizona and then back nearly three years later. I found myself in a desert place, literally and spiritually, wondering if perhaps we'd made the biggest mistake of our lives. And then understanding, of course, that there are no mistakes, that God has already designed our journey for us. He's ridden ahead, paved the path, completely aware of each twist and turn our lives will take. Knowing he's a few paces ahead helps me keep focused on the path I'm on, even if I don't always know where I'm headed.
I don't know where I'll be in two years. Five years. Ten years. I knew a woman who plans her life ten years at a time. How can you, really? Sure, we can plan, we can dream, we can assume, but only the Lord holds the map.
Just tonight, I made plans that went terribly awry. I had evey intention of going some place that I very much wanted to go, and things did not go as planned. If you'd asked me this morning where I would be tonight, it wouldnt have been where I sit right now. The old me might have been disraught over this. And I admit, I am a tad disappointed. Okay, a lot. But it was not meant to be.
Not knowing where we're going is almost more exciting than knowing where we're going. Not knowing keeps us relying on God, the one who has no beginning, no end. Our future lies in his hands. The journey has just begun!
One of the most interesting things about it is finding out where people ended up and what they are doing. I recently found one of my childhood best friends on there. She ended up becoming a chef, which didn't surprise me in the least, as growing up, her step dad was the most fabulous cook I'd ever met. She is married and has three kids and lives in Oregon. Another friend from junior high turned out to be a chemist (I always knew she was smart!) and is now getting her PhD in Europe! Wow! Puts me to shame!
As I think about these different friends, it strikes me as amazing at the different journeys we all ended up taking. As children, we were all the same, for the most part. We spent our days running through the sprinklers and licking Popsicles made from Tupperware molds, and crossed our fingers for a decent grade on our science fair project. We had crushes, made friendships in 2.2 seconds on the playground, and hoped for our favorite teacher each year. We had pesky siblings, watched Disney movies at sleep overs while rolling our hair in big curlers, and tried to not act too cool when we shaved our legs for the first time.
Now, here we are in our thirties, some of us with children, some not, some married, some not, some living on opposite sides of the States, and even the world! Who would have ever guessed these things growing up? Who could have known?
I, for one, knew I wanted to write since the first grade. My teacher told my mother I was an aspiring writer, and that was that. I never wanted to be anything else. I wanted to get married, and have two girls and a boy. I hadnt a clue the twists and turns life would take me on as my future unfolded.
The girl in the silly pink curlers at the slumber party didn't know she'd find herself a single mom at the age of 19, when most kids are still deciding on junior college. The girl in the Taco Bell uniform (yup, that was me, thank you very much!) hadn't a clue that one day she'd meet her husband on the Internet of all places, and wind up in a whirlwind romance that began on a pier in San Francisco and ended up in southern California. And the girl who dreamed about two little girls and a boy? Well, not quite. Three boys and one girl later (thanks to lots of prayer!) I got my sweet little red head and a car full of stinky soccer cleats!
Journeys. Where we begin, where we end up. My journey continued as the Lord led us to Arizona and then back nearly three years later. I found myself in a desert place, literally and spiritually, wondering if perhaps we'd made the biggest mistake of our lives. And then understanding, of course, that there are no mistakes, that God has already designed our journey for us. He's ridden ahead, paved the path, completely aware of each twist and turn our lives will take. Knowing he's a few paces ahead helps me keep focused on the path I'm on, even if I don't always know where I'm headed.
I don't know where I'll be in two years. Five years. Ten years. I knew a woman who plans her life ten years at a time. How can you, really? Sure, we can plan, we can dream, we can assume, but only the Lord holds the map.
Just tonight, I made plans that went terribly awry. I had evey intention of going some place that I very much wanted to go, and things did not go as planned. If you'd asked me this morning where I would be tonight, it wouldnt have been where I sit right now. The old me might have been disraught over this. And I admit, I am a tad disappointed. Okay, a lot. But it was not meant to be.
Not knowing where we're going is almost more exciting than knowing where we're going. Not knowing keeps us relying on God, the one who has no beginning, no end. Our future lies in his hands. The journey has just begun!
Jul 28, 2008
Lessons along the way
So I'll be 32 next week. Not a big deal, depending on who you talk to. My "middle aged" friends tell me I'm a baby, my younger friends like to remind me that I'm "getting up there". It does seem hard to believe that nearly 15 years have passed since I graduated high school. I still don't quite feel like an adult, though I suppose I should having four kids! I'm still as carefree as ever, but life has grown me up a bit, especially in the last couple of (rather rough) years! As I reflect on the past couple decades of my life, I realize I have learned quite a bit. Thanks to older and wiser folks, my precious children, life experience, and of course, God himself! Just a few things I've learned along the way:
1. Life sucks sometimes. I don't know how else to put it. I think it would make a great book title, actually. Life can be a real drag once in a while. We've all been through super sucky stuff! I grew up rather naieve, assuming that once I had a family of my own and could do things "my way" things would all fall into place and there would be no more problems. Ha! I was pretty cluess back then, to say the least! Instead of whining about it, I've learned to adjust my perspective. And of course, rely on God. Which brings me to number two:
2. People are not always constant, but God is. I knew all my life that God was constant, but realizing how often people let us down is a great reminder of just how constant God really is. He never leaves, never fails, never changes. I'm a dreamer. I like to believe things will always be good, that people will always be there, but let's face it...life doesn't always allow for that. Six moves later, I finally figured it out. People come in and out of our lives like a revolving door, but God remains put. Which brings me to number three:
3. Sometimes friendships are just for a season. My friend Jeanine reminded me of that this summer. I'm a loyal person by default. Be my friend, and watch out, I'm here for life. You'll have to try awfully hard to get rid of me. :) But because of the ever changing seasons of our lives, sometimes people are only in them for a short while. I have a handful of friends I've had since childhood, which I think is pretty good these days. Then I have my mommy friends, which mainly came from MOPS over the years. I've stayed in touch with a few of them, but many of them drifted in and out of my life like the tide. I'm okay with that. At the time, we were in the same place (usually that place was in the back of the room at MOPS, changing diapers or nursing on the floor together, or, hey Jen, nursing babies under blankets flapping in the wind at the park while trying to chase our toddlers up the slide!) Now my kids are getting older, and three out of four will be in school next year! I'm not so needy of the playgroups and such as I was a couple years ago. My life is changing, and so are other people's. Instead of grieving, I am learning to embrace it, to keep my eyes open for new friendships, and be thankful for them, no matter how long or short they last.
4. It's okay to be okay with yourself. Took me a looong time to realize this. I was super short growing up, always wanted to be at least six inches taller. My dad always said boys liked short girls, but I suspect he said that just to make me feel good. I finally discovered high heels, and got over it. I still wish my legs were longer, my lips fuller, my skin smoother, my uh, chest bigger. But as I get older, I realize that I don't much care what other people look like, and I'm pretty sure the feeling's mutual. Just yesterday I spent a day at an outdoor spa, where hundreds of women of all ages and shapes and sizes wandered the pools. Seeing a fifty year old woman in a bikini gave me a newfound confidence. I'm sure she's acknowledged her jiggly parts, but she's come to terms with them. And so have I. For the most part. Of course, appearance is only one factor. I'm also learning to be okay with the rest of myself. The person who will never, ever have a completely immaculate house, who will never be able to find her keys at a moments notice, who continues to burn cookies each time she makes them because she refuses to set the timer or completely forgets about them baking all together. So I'm a bit scatterbrained. But I'm okay with that. (So long as I don't lose my children...that I havent done yet! :) I do other things that make up for that. I think I'm pretty good at concocting meals without using a recipe, I play the piano pretty decently, and I keep up a good sense of humor that gets me through life. Oh, and I'm a child of God, which means I'm okay just the way I am, because it's how He made me! And that is okay.
5. My mother is really cool. Growing up, my mother and I didnt get along a lot of the time. I thought she was too rigid, she thought I was too free spirited. And I couldnt sew a button to save my life, which devastated her, I'm sure, as she could whip out a bridal gown with some thread and a needle in a matter of hours if she wanted to. But now that I'm grown with kids of my own, I see just how great she really is, how fun she can be, and what a great listener she is. We still have our differences, but I love her more than ever, and thank God for her in my life. I can't count how many times I've called her for a recipe, a piece of advice, a house cleaning question, or just simply to vent. And she's always there. A friend of the best kind.
6. It's okay to be real. I was never much for putting on a facade to begin with, but life has a way of sort of beating you up, making you question if you should wear your heart on your sleeve. We've all spilled our guts to someone, only to have them either blab it to someone else or brush us off in our dire straits. I now realize that it is definitely okay to be real, but we don't need to be completely transparent with anyone. We can be choosy about those we open up to and those we remain surfacy with. Good rule of thumb: if they don't ask, don't tell. As my wise friend Missy said once "Everyone doesn't need to know everything about me." Husbands are great, but any woman knows she needs her gal pals for a true heart to heart, especially when it comes to topics of feminine hygeine, bathing suit bulges, and PMS. Being real can mean being accountable, which is especially important as Christians. But spilling our guts can leave us vulnerable, so being careful who we share with isn't being snobby..it's being wise.
7.It's okay to do nothing sometimes. I learned this lesson the hard way these past few months when I got so sick. I had no choice but to do literally nothing at times! My eyes hurt so badly I couldnt even read a book, one of my favorite pasttimes! So I took naps, listened to sermons on the internet, prayed, took long baths, and called friends I hadn't talked to in months. And it felt good! I used to feel guilty if I (heaven forbid!) stopped moving for even a moment of the day. Resting meant something around the house wasn't getting done. Now I realize much of this guilt was self induced. My husband wasnt telling me to do more, my kids weren't telling me to do more, my friends weren't telling me to do more. If anything, they were all happy for me for resting after what feels like years of living in a whirlwind! These days, I know it's okay if the dishes don't get done, or the laundry doesnt get put away. No one ever died from eating hot dogs and canned Ravioli three nights in a row.
8. Most exciting things are really not that exciting at all. I used to try to plan these lavish vacations for the family, assuming my kids would be utterly bored if we didnt fill up every minute of the day with energizing activities. Then I realized they were perfectly content digging in the sand, throwing a ball around, rolling on the grass, telling silly stories, and twirling on a tire swing. Viola! Money saved and happy kids, which means everyone wins! We live in a world that practically demands that we schedule ourselves silly. Have a fifteen minute block of spare time? Yikes! Hurry and fill it up! Surely you can squeeze two more things in! Sure, I'm into the whole soccer thing, and I think music lessons are pretty cool. But sometimes just sitting at home watching a cartoon or making a fort out of pillows is just as much fun, if not more!
9. Taking care of myself is not being selfish. Ahh...it's the ultimate mommy mantra: But I have no time for myself...I have to put the kids first! We can't be good mommies if we can't even take care of our basic needs. I learned this lesson, again, the hard way this past year. I reaonsed I could not "find time" to eat, so my blood sugar got so low the doc said she was amazed I didnt go into a coma. Not good! I took a good look at myself in the mirror and winced. Years of skipping the sunscreen on my face "becuase I didnt have time" has left me with more sun damage than I care to discuss. My hair has six inches of split ends because I never "find the time" to make an appointment at the salon. And my clothes? Let's not even talk about them! If I didnt get them off the Target clearance rack, they most likely came from a garage sale and sport holes and stains on them. Yikes! I'm not saying I feel led to spend thousands of dollars trying to doll myself up, but it wouldnt hurt to make a trip to the dentist and the hair salon every now and then. And what's wrong with having a few new outfits to feel good about? Yes, I splurged on a $150 pair of 7 jeans last year. But they made me feel like a million bucks, even if I paired them with a three dollar tank top from Target. Happy, healthy mommy equals happy, healthy kids. Or at least that's the idea.
10. Marriage is worth it. I'll be honest. I dont like my husband a hundred percent of the time. Maybe not even ninety percent of the time. But all in all, he's a great guy, and definitely worth keeping. I've seen a lot of marriages fail in the past few years, mostly because one or both decided to give up. It breaks my heart, but in an age that says "If it doesnt work for you, be done with it!" I'm not surprised. Thankfully, God is for marriage! He wants us to succeed! Sadly, Satan is not. He'd love nothing more than to get into each of our homes and destroy. He tried pretty hard when we were in Arizona. I remember one day looking sadly at my husband in bed and wondering why on earth he hadnt left me already. We were just NOT getting along! Thankfully, God is so kind, patient and merciful. He gently steered us back in the right direction, and today we're doing great! (Most of the time) I still get irritated when he leaves his socks on the ground, or even worse, throws his used floss on the carpet instead of the trash (He would kill me if he knew I was revealing this!) But I've learned to deal. I've seen a friend lose her husband, and I'm sure she would give anything today to have him leave his socks on the ground. Marriage can be fun and exciting! My parents are just now renewing their marriage, enjoying each other's company with an empty nest, and traveling to Hawaii after 30 years of talking about it! They are a picture of hope, because there was a time when things weren't super terrific between them. I'm in it for the long haul, because it's worth it.
11. Chocolate, not diamonds, is a girls best friend. I never was much into diamonds. I lost my diamond ring a couple years ago, which was devastating, but if I never get another one, I'll live. Living without chocolate, however, is not an option. Thankfully, it's a tad cheaper than the shiny gem, and comes in many forms. Any works for me. Candy, ice cream, chunk, dark, milk, white, chip, you name it, I'll eat it. Especially two days before my period. Bless, bless, bless the person who discovered the cocoa bean. May they have a special reward in heaven.
12. I'm not done learning. I'm only 32. Assuming I don't overdose on chocolate, I might be around for a few more years. I'm sure I'll have many more lessons to learn along the way. And that's good. Living means learning, and learning means living. I'll take the good with the bad. Because it's worth it.
1. Life sucks sometimes. I don't know how else to put it. I think it would make a great book title, actually. Life can be a real drag once in a while. We've all been through super sucky stuff! I grew up rather naieve, assuming that once I had a family of my own and could do things "my way" things would all fall into place and there would be no more problems. Ha! I was pretty cluess back then, to say the least! Instead of whining about it, I've learned to adjust my perspective. And of course, rely on God. Which brings me to number two:
2. People are not always constant, but God is. I knew all my life that God was constant, but realizing how often people let us down is a great reminder of just how constant God really is. He never leaves, never fails, never changes. I'm a dreamer. I like to believe things will always be good, that people will always be there, but let's face it...life doesn't always allow for that. Six moves later, I finally figured it out. People come in and out of our lives like a revolving door, but God remains put. Which brings me to number three:
3. Sometimes friendships are just for a season. My friend Jeanine reminded me of that this summer. I'm a loyal person by default. Be my friend, and watch out, I'm here for life. You'll have to try awfully hard to get rid of me. :) But because of the ever changing seasons of our lives, sometimes people are only in them for a short while. I have a handful of friends I've had since childhood, which I think is pretty good these days. Then I have my mommy friends, which mainly came from MOPS over the years. I've stayed in touch with a few of them, but many of them drifted in and out of my life like the tide. I'm okay with that. At the time, we were in the same place (usually that place was in the back of the room at MOPS, changing diapers or nursing on the floor together, or, hey Jen, nursing babies under blankets flapping in the wind at the park while trying to chase our toddlers up the slide!) Now my kids are getting older, and three out of four will be in school next year! I'm not so needy of the playgroups and such as I was a couple years ago. My life is changing, and so are other people's. Instead of grieving, I am learning to embrace it, to keep my eyes open for new friendships, and be thankful for them, no matter how long or short they last.
4. It's okay to be okay with yourself. Took me a looong time to realize this. I was super short growing up, always wanted to be at least six inches taller. My dad always said boys liked short girls, but I suspect he said that just to make me feel good. I finally discovered high heels, and got over it. I still wish my legs were longer, my lips fuller, my skin smoother, my uh, chest bigger. But as I get older, I realize that I don't much care what other people look like, and I'm pretty sure the feeling's mutual. Just yesterday I spent a day at an outdoor spa, where hundreds of women of all ages and shapes and sizes wandered the pools. Seeing a fifty year old woman in a bikini gave me a newfound confidence. I'm sure she's acknowledged her jiggly parts, but she's come to terms with them. And so have I. For the most part. Of course, appearance is only one factor. I'm also learning to be okay with the rest of myself. The person who will never, ever have a completely immaculate house, who will never be able to find her keys at a moments notice, who continues to burn cookies each time she makes them because she refuses to set the timer or completely forgets about them baking all together. So I'm a bit scatterbrained. But I'm okay with that. (So long as I don't lose my children...that I havent done yet! :) I do other things that make up for that. I think I'm pretty good at concocting meals without using a recipe, I play the piano pretty decently, and I keep up a good sense of humor that gets me through life. Oh, and I'm a child of God, which means I'm okay just the way I am, because it's how He made me! And that is okay.
5. My mother is really cool. Growing up, my mother and I didnt get along a lot of the time. I thought she was too rigid, she thought I was too free spirited. And I couldnt sew a button to save my life, which devastated her, I'm sure, as she could whip out a bridal gown with some thread and a needle in a matter of hours if she wanted to. But now that I'm grown with kids of my own, I see just how great she really is, how fun she can be, and what a great listener she is. We still have our differences, but I love her more than ever, and thank God for her in my life. I can't count how many times I've called her for a recipe, a piece of advice, a house cleaning question, or just simply to vent. And she's always there. A friend of the best kind.
6. It's okay to be real. I was never much for putting on a facade to begin with, but life has a way of sort of beating you up, making you question if you should wear your heart on your sleeve. We've all spilled our guts to someone, only to have them either blab it to someone else or brush us off in our dire straits. I now realize that it is definitely okay to be real, but we don't need to be completely transparent with anyone. We can be choosy about those we open up to and those we remain surfacy with. Good rule of thumb: if they don't ask, don't tell. As my wise friend Missy said once "Everyone doesn't need to know everything about me." Husbands are great, but any woman knows she needs her gal pals for a true heart to heart, especially when it comes to topics of feminine hygeine, bathing suit bulges, and PMS. Being real can mean being accountable, which is especially important as Christians. But spilling our guts can leave us vulnerable, so being careful who we share with isn't being snobby..it's being wise.
7.It's okay to do nothing sometimes. I learned this lesson the hard way these past few months when I got so sick. I had no choice but to do literally nothing at times! My eyes hurt so badly I couldnt even read a book, one of my favorite pasttimes! So I took naps, listened to sermons on the internet, prayed, took long baths, and called friends I hadn't talked to in months. And it felt good! I used to feel guilty if I (heaven forbid!) stopped moving for even a moment of the day. Resting meant something around the house wasn't getting done. Now I realize much of this guilt was self induced. My husband wasnt telling me to do more, my kids weren't telling me to do more, my friends weren't telling me to do more. If anything, they were all happy for me for resting after what feels like years of living in a whirlwind! These days, I know it's okay if the dishes don't get done, or the laundry doesnt get put away. No one ever died from eating hot dogs and canned Ravioli three nights in a row.
8. Most exciting things are really not that exciting at all. I used to try to plan these lavish vacations for the family, assuming my kids would be utterly bored if we didnt fill up every minute of the day with energizing activities. Then I realized they were perfectly content digging in the sand, throwing a ball around, rolling on the grass, telling silly stories, and twirling on a tire swing. Viola! Money saved and happy kids, which means everyone wins! We live in a world that practically demands that we schedule ourselves silly. Have a fifteen minute block of spare time? Yikes! Hurry and fill it up! Surely you can squeeze two more things in! Sure, I'm into the whole soccer thing, and I think music lessons are pretty cool. But sometimes just sitting at home watching a cartoon or making a fort out of pillows is just as much fun, if not more!
9. Taking care of myself is not being selfish. Ahh...it's the ultimate mommy mantra: But I have no time for myself...I have to put the kids first! We can't be good mommies if we can't even take care of our basic needs. I learned this lesson, again, the hard way this past year. I reaonsed I could not "find time" to eat, so my blood sugar got so low the doc said she was amazed I didnt go into a coma. Not good! I took a good look at myself in the mirror and winced. Years of skipping the sunscreen on my face "becuase I didnt have time" has left me with more sun damage than I care to discuss. My hair has six inches of split ends because I never "find the time" to make an appointment at the salon. And my clothes? Let's not even talk about them! If I didnt get them off the Target clearance rack, they most likely came from a garage sale and sport holes and stains on them. Yikes! I'm not saying I feel led to spend thousands of dollars trying to doll myself up, but it wouldnt hurt to make a trip to the dentist and the hair salon every now and then. And what's wrong with having a few new outfits to feel good about? Yes, I splurged on a $150 pair of 7 jeans last year. But they made me feel like a million bucks, even if I paired them with a three dollar tank top from Target. Happy, healthy mommy equals happy, healthy kids. Or at least that's the idea.
10. Marriage is worth it. I'll be honest. I dont like my husband a hundred percent of the time. Maybe not even ninety percent of the time. But all in all, he's a great guy, and definitely worth keeping. I've seen a lot of marriages fail in the past few years, mostly because one or both decided to give up. It breaks my heart, but in an age that says "If it doesnt work for you, be done with it!" I'm not surprised. Thankfully, God is for marriage! He wants us to succeed! Sadly, Satan is not. He'd love nothing more than to get into each of our homes and destroy. He tried pretty hard when we were in Arizona. I remember one day looking sadly at my husband in bed and wondering why on earth he hadnt left me already. We were just NOT getting along! Thankfully, God is so kind, patient and merciful. He gently steered us back in the right direction, and today we're doing great! (Most of the time) I still get irritated when he leaves his socks on the ground, or even worse, throws his used floss on the carpet instead of the trash (He would kill me if he knew I was revealing this!) But I've learned to deal. I've seen a friend lose her husband, and I'm sure she would give anything today to have him leave his socks on the ground. Marriage can be fun and exciting! My parents are just now renewing their marriage, enjoying each other's company with an empty nest, and traveling to Hawaii after 30 years of talking about it! They are a picture of hope, because there was a time when things weren't super terrific between them. I'm in it for the long haul, because it's worth it.
11. Chocolate, not diamonds, is a girls best friend. I never was much into diamonds. I lost my diamond ring a couple years ago, which was devastating, but if I never get another one, I'll live. Living without chocolate, however, is not an option. Thankfully, it's a tad cheaper than the shiny gem, and comes in many forms. Any works for me. Candy, ice cream, chunk, dark, milk, white, chip, you name it, I'll eat it. Especially two days before my period. Bless, bless, bless the person who discovered the cocoa bean. May they have a special reward in heaven.
12. I'm not done learning. I'm only 32. Assuming I don't overdose on chocolate, I might be around for a few more years. I'm sure I'll have many more lessons to learn along the way. And that's good. Living means learning, and learning means living. I'll take the good with the bad. Because it's worth it.
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