Forgettable Moments to Remember

Do you remember the scene in "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" where Susan Sarandon is about to lose her mind taking care of several children with the stomach flu?  I won't bother posting a clip here since it's such a horrid scene that it terrifies women who haven't had children yet and reminds mothers of their own ugly moments that they've tried to forget.  But when my husband and I watched this movie for the first time, long before we had children, I remember him asking, "Where is the Dad?" 

Now, years later, his question pops in my mind from time to time with a twinge of resentment.  Like this week. All four of the children have been sick all week. I haven't been anywhere all week.  ANYWHERE. ALL WEEK.   For being a stay-at-home mom, I don't actually like to stay at home.  At least not for days and days on end. With sick children.  I have lost track of all the times I have dealt with sick children when my husband was busy at work (working hard to provide for us, I might add) or out of town. 

And although it is easy to feel like somehow I'm the martyr, I was reminded several times this week that although this is hard... and I mean HARD...there is no where else I'd rather be.  Okay, on a beach with a mai tai sounds pretty good, but what I mean is there is no one else I would want to console my suffering child besides me. There is no one else I would want to rub my child's back and sing to them and tell them that it was going to be okay and that mommy was going to take good care of them.  And although my husband is wonderful at caring for our children, when they are sick, I still feel like no one else can do the better job than me. It is a privilege and honor to care for them with tenderness and concern. 

There is nothing worse than watching your child suffer except maybe the thought of them suffering without you. And so, although it has been a long week, (and the weekend doesn't seem to hold much promise) I'm going to keep close to my kiddos and offer them what comfort I can and appreciate that normally we are in good health. There is so much to be thankful for. I'm grateful that we have access to the best healthcare in the world, and thankful for the invention of motrin. And really thankful that I had plenty of wine and frozen dinners on hand. 

And soon this week will be full of moments that I will have forgotten, but the message I have given to my children will be remembered always.

Multitasking: A FORCE To Reckon With

I have a love/hate relationship with Jillian Michaels.  I much prefer working out at the gym, most especially because of the day care, but sometimes like when I have a kid home sick or a baby that naps three times a day, the 30 Day Shred has been a great way to get in an intense workout in under 30 minutes. 

I can’t say that I actually like most of what she has to say. I am not working out so that I can look great in ALL those strapless dresses that I wear (ha!).  And if I were working out to look good in a bikini I would have given up long ago.  I don’t even usually listen to her anymore, I just turn on my itunes and mute the TV. But recently I had the volume on for some reason and she said,

“Most people don’t show up for their own lives.  They just go through their whole day without ever bringing their A game”.

(I know you’re asking yourself if she is seriously quoting the wisdom of Jillian Michaels?)

That’s me, I thought.  I often feel like I’m just going through the motions getting to the next task. As Yoda would say (now she’s quoting Yoda?)

"All his life he has looked away... to the future... to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was....what he was doing"

 

 

Now let me be clear… there is a big difference between perfection and “bringing your A game”. As a mother of four young boys, if I am looking for perfection I will be disappointed. If I wait for the perfect time to workout, I will never exercise.  If I wait for the perfect time to pray, I will be waiting a long time.  If I expect my house to be immaculate, I will drive myself and those who live here crazy.   Perfection is not something that’s attainable, but doing my best is what I am called to do. 

As Blessed Mother Theresa says, “We are not called to be successful, but to be faithful”

This has been a humbling realization.  My “A game” doesn’t always bring “A” results.   Maybe that’s why it’s easier sometimes to bring my “B” or “C” game… then when I get average results, it’s not so disappointing.

So I resolved to bring my A game that day.  But as I went through my day, I realized that thinking about paying bills while I was folding laundry and remembering to organize the carpool while I was in the shower was actually an important skill.  I think women have a unique gift in their ability to multitask.  While often men can be so focused on their reading or football game that they don’t even hear a kid talking directly to them, women often can hear what’s going on in four different rooms with all of her children while cooking dinner and talking on the phone.  And this is a gift.  Many times this ability has helped me save a child from danger... even if it means that sometimes the dinner gets burned.

Maybe not always having 100% of mind on what I am doing is actually a gift.  I mean, how much mind power does laundry or dishes require?  Dreaming gives us hope. If Luke Skywalker had brought his A game to every little farming chore, maybe he would have been too worn out to fight the dark side and save the galaxy. If he hadn’t been spending his time dreaming of how he wanted to make a difference in the world, maybe he wouldn’t have had the courage (and ego) to go and become a Jedi.  Dreaming for myself, my boys, and our family gives me a sense of the bigger picture and what I’m really trying to accomplish.  And while I can’t give all of my thoughts and energy to everything all the time, I think I’ll keep dreaming big and multitasking and save my “A game” for the moments that really count. J

Lowering the bar

Yesterday was the first day of summer and by 8:05a.m. I had already been asked, “What can we do?”  By 10 am I posted on my Facebook,

“It's the first day of summer and my kids somehow got the impression that every minute of summer is supposed to be blissfully fun and entertaining. I think I'll make the day extra boring just to lower the bar a little...”

Fighting through the boredom was tough at first. There was bickering, whining, and several requests for food even though they weren’t really hungry.  It required an act of the will on my part not to want to escape to the zoo, park, Chuck E Cheese, or at least turn on the TV. (okay we eventually did turn on the tv, and later rode bikes to the park).  But somehow I felt that the experience of boredom was good for them.

And after fighting through for a while, their creative side came out. And they launched a full blown NERF gun war.

And the fun and laughter and creativity that is what summer should be began.

That’s how I wanted the story to end.

But in reality my little guys wanted to go outside while the big boys were having this NERF battle, and since it was truly gorgeous out, we headed to the front yard. My one year old wanted EVERYTHING my three-year-old played with except when he was climbing the cement steps or trying to eat rocks.  Meanwhile his brother found a sippy cup with milk in the trunk of his Lil’ Tikes car, which had been there for who-knows-how long.  He had already taken several sips before I confiscated and smelled the very rancid milk.  The phone rang and while I’m on the phone my three year old whines incessantly for some fresh milk and one of the NERF warriors yells out the window for some injustice which demanded my refereeing skills.

Enough is enough… the front yard isn’t working…. let’s try the backyard.  Off we go… and the baby heads straight for the sandbox… and proceeds to play with something in there… I begin to wonder what it could be? A closer look reveals some sort of animal poop. Nice.  At this point I start completely losing it.  I call my husband hoping for some words of wisdom, advice, or encouragement. He suggests I start drinking. It’s only noon.

I tell everyone to come inside and turn on the TV and sit at the kitchen table wondering how I’m going to survive the summer.

I had been psyching myself up for weeks that this summer was going to be different. I wasn’t going to yell and get frustrated and turn to the TV as a babysitter. My kindergartner was actually going to do the summer packet his teacher had given him to work on this summer.  During the little ones naps, the big boys would read quietly and work on bettering themselves.  And we’d play lots of games and have lots of fun.  And family life would look just like how I imagine it should. And I’d be “the perfect mom”. 

While sitting at the table, between praying and contemplating taking my husband’s advice to pour myself a drink, I decided that maybe it wasn’t the kids that needed to lower their expectations of what summer would look like after all… maybe it was me. And suddenly I was ready to face the chaos again…

His Grace is Sufficient....

It was July 2010 early in the morning when I told my husband the news…. I’m PREGNANT!  The joy in my heart was obvious and my husband shared in it! Together we told our boys… and rejoiced.  To celebrate we decided to go to Mass that day and thank God for this new life. 

While I was truly overjoyed by the gift of this new life, I also knew it meant the next nine months would be far from easy.  I have had difficult pregnancies that seem to get harder each time.  We’ve lost two babies through miscarriage and then found naprotechnology which helped us discover I had low progesterone.  Thankfully it can be treated through shots twice a week. 

Having just had a baby a little over a year before, I knew what I was getting into.  It meant lab draws, shots, hormones that made me (and let’s be honest… everyone around me) a little crazy.  It meant carrying a puke bucket around for months and an exhaustion that was so fierce I wondered if I’d ever feel normal again.  And it meant an emotional rollercoaster of praying and hoping for my baby’s safety.

So when we arrived at mass, I was praying in thanksgiving, but I also was praying for grace to endure the suffering that would surely come.  And then I heard the first reading from Jeremiah, 1:4

                “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you”

My heart leapt.  I knew that God was with this baby and with me.

Then the Psalm 71:5-6

                “For you are my hope, O Lord:

                My trust, O God from my youth.

                On you I depend from birth;

                From my mother’s womb you are my strength”

I felt like God was telling me that he would protect this baby and not to worry. I experienced a deep peace and joy. 

Then the gospel was Matthew 13:1-9, the parable of the sower and the seeds.  I have heard this parable many times, but at some point since becoming a mother I began to hear it differently.  The same things that Jesus warns us can keep us from bearing spiritual fruit: trials, lack of roots, the anxieties of daily life and the lure of riches, are the same things that often keep people from bearing physical fruit: more children.

I felt so encouraged that this was the reading for the day.  So that nothing... not fear of suffering, financial concerns, or the anxieties of life with small children, could rob me of the joy of this new life growing inside me. 

The pregnancy was a time of suffering for me, but also of great consolation.  Jesus continued to give me great peace and encouragement.  The first time I went in for my lab draw I was feeling a little sorry for myself… here we go again I thought…. And on the secular radio station that was on in the lab was “I Can Only Imagine”.  It was a little gift to me. 

And there were moments that I drew upon the grace that was given to me that day at Mass.  One instance in particular when I was about four months along and I started bleeding.  I was at the ER and I kept almost hearing the word, “protected”.  I felt a deep peace even before the sonogram showed a little baby with a beating heart!

Our little boy was born, not only full term, but 8 days overdue!   Healthy and beautiful little boy!  And the suffering of those nine months was nothing compared to the joy of our new son.  

I experienced that God's grace is not only sufficient, but it is abundant!

p.s. My husband writes about this time in our lives also... check it out 

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

After my last post, I was thinking of all the times my kids have been late to school and the circumstances surrounding that and I remember one incident that really stood out.

A little background: my kindergartner is sort of a mix between a cuddly bear and the Tasmanian devil. My wild child is on his second backpack for this year. And it’s literally safety pinned together. He went through two winter coats and countless pants.  The kid literally runs circles around everyone all day long. I bought him a pair of Sketcher sneakers in October and when we were shooting baskets in the gym in December he kept slipping. I looked and his treads were completely gone.  At first I thought, "Boy they sure don’t make ‘em like they used to" (I have a pair of Sketchers from college which was… well, let’s just say… ages ago!).  But I realized he literally wore them out… in two months.

Here he is VICTORIOUS!

My husband and I joke about how this boy of ours came out ready for the marines.  He's the kid who when Grandpa says, "watch out for spider webs on the dock!" goes running chest out, arms open wide right into them, not because he has something to prove, but because he really just doesn't care.

check out the long walkway and imagine him running and  yelling and letting the webs go all over him...

This tough side is balanced well though with a sweetness and deep concern for others. He will be the first to run over to the baby and comfort him or to give a hug out of the blue. He is as sweet as can be, just a little fireball.

So when his brother came upstairs one day saying that my little sweet tornado had pulled the coat hooks out of the wall, I wasn’t as shocked as you would think.  He pulled so hard, they literally came out of the wall. Since the hooks were anchored into the wall, it left two huge holes.  They say I'll laugh at these things someday...

The next day he went to get his coat and it was up high. Being extremely resourceful, he tried to get it himself but couldn’t quite reach, so he got a cap gun, a nice solid metal one, and was throwing it up high in the air to try and get it to unhook his coat. Not such a great idea. Apparently the sharpest part of the gun landed on his head.

The next thing I know I’m looking at the clock thinking that although my husband was gone, I was actually going to get them to school on time… we still had plenty of time! It was a miracle… there’s a first time for everything!  WOW! I’m supermom!   That was until he came upstairs holding his head, covered in blood.

Now, there was a time when I was new to this mothering boys business that I became completely unglued at the sight of my child bleeding. But being the veteran that I am, and having experienced countless boys bloodied in battle… okay.... I still freak out at the sight of one of them bleeding. Every. Single. Time.  I’m not really sure if my reaction is because it’s so painful to see your child hurting, because my level of medical care doesn't extend beyond putting on a band-aid, or because I don’t want blood on my carpet… but I have yet to react calmly and rationally. 

Anyway, I quickly decided that if I was going to the ER, I’d rather have three children with me instead of four so I took my oldest to school while having my bleeding boy cover his head with an ice packet and a towel. And I called my sister who is an ER doctor.

And my sister saved the day again… she calmly told me how much head wounds bleed and how it probably wasn’t that bad and walked me through what to do to help him. She saved me an ER visit that day and a huge copay and it was only one of the many times I’ve been grateful for her!

Here she is with my little niece 

By the time I got to the pediatrician’s office my bleeding boy was doing fine and so was I. 

And I learned that being late to school isn’t the worst thing that could happen after all.  And that motherhood, like everything worth doing, takes a lot of blood, sweat, and tears! 

Perspective...

I haven’t been blogging lately. It’s not that the ideas aren’t there. Nearly every day there is some new moment with one of my children I want to capture forever or sometimes moments that I want to forget and I know that writing about it is therapeutic. But it’s just that life is so full of well, LIFE!  It reminds me of an old country song by DougStone, “I was too busy being in love”.  

Ever since my baby turned one, I’ve been wanting to soak up every last minute of his baby-ness before it melts away completely.

Here he is with his birthday cake!  

I see it happening right before my eyes and while I cherish each new word and step, I also can’t believe he’s growing so fast.  The next thing I know he’ll be wearing camo pants and lightsaber fighting with his brothers and saying, “hey Mom… look at this!” as he makes a basket.

(Or makes us pancakes on a Saturday morning!)

It’s like my life is on speed… and if and when it does slow down, I slow down too…and suddenly my long “to-do” list (with things like BLOG on it) looks like things that can all wait another day and I pour myself a glass of wine and curl up next to my husband and relax.

But today, I was blessed with an award for my blog! Can you believe it? AN AWARD!!!  

Thank you to Cynthia at Finding GreatJoy, whose blog I read regularly and always find both entertaining and inspiring. Check out one of my favorites.  So my new award was just the inspiration I needed to get the latest blog out of my head and into the computer.

Yesterday my husband had to get to work early so I had to get the boys to school all by myself. Now, I know that there are women who do this everyday… and let me tell you, you are the ones that deserve an award!  Somehow it is physically impossible, no matter how early I start, to get the two older boys to school  on time. Physically impossible I tell you!  Even when things look good and we leave with plenty of time (like on the first day of school this year) there is a diaper explosion of epic proportions and I am stuck with a poopy baby and carseat standing outside the school while everyone walks in their children and takes pictures and my kindergartner who is so excited he could burst keeps saying, “are you ready yet mom?” 

And of course I didn’t have a change of clothes in the diaper bag…

There is a whole history here of failure… and even when it isn’t really failure on my part… it feels like it, since I am, afterall, the responsible one… gulp.   

So yesterday I was barking orders like a drill sergeant and trying to make sure the older kids were dressed appropriately and had teeth brushed, and the younger ones had fresh diapers and everyone was fed… and amidst the demands of the morning I made a lunch that was forgotten on the counter and they were late to school… again.  And I felt like I had just ran a sprint but fell right before the finish line.

After I had dropped them off and was trying to recover, I was trying to tell myself how grateful I should be that my husband does this everyday. But I wasn’t feeling grateful.  And then I got behind a school bus that  had it’s STOP sign out and I waited.  And I watched as a little girl in a pink wheelchair was lifted onto the bus, and suddenly I was grateful. Very grateful.  And in a moment my whole mood and perspective changed and I was the luckiest mom in the world to four beautiful and healthy boys...two of which got to go to an amazing school and two of which got to stay home with me! I wonder if that brave little girl knows what a witness she is... maybe she should be getting the award!

An Award!!!

It turns out I won an award for my blog from my friend Cynthia at Finding Great Joy, whose blog I read regularly and always find both entertaining and inspiring. Check out one of my favorites.  The award was just the inspiration I needed to write again! 

The rules: 

1. Choose five up and coming blogs with less than 200 followers to give the award.

2. Show your thanks to the blogger who awarded you by linking back to them.

3. Post the award on your blog.

4. List the blogs you gave the award to by linking on your site. Leave a comment on their blogs to let them know you awarded them.

5. List five random facts about yourself.

First things first, I'm awarding the following blogs (ooooh...so hard to choose ONLY five!):

·         Sue at All Things Bright and Beautiful

·         Lindsay at My Child, I Love You

·         Molly at My Chaotic Beauty

·         Suzanne at The Growing Family

·         Amber at Blonde And Balanced

Five Random Facts:

• Kids can get into trouble faster than you can read this blog
• Last week, my one-year-old got a plastic Easter egg down from the table, opened it, unwrapped part of a Reeses chocolate egg and was well into delight when I found him.
• Two days ago I busted my one year old eating M&Ms from his brother's Easter egg... he had a look that said, "I know I'm in trouble but that was SO WORTH IT!" ...
• Which is exactly how I feel about chocolate
• Today, while I was scheduling a doctors appointment on the phone and my three-year-old was supposed to be drawing on the white board...

But instead he was drawing on his legs! 

And a little on the wall too if you look on the right...

And So Shines A Ray Of Hope...

It was one of those days where I woke up with an unexplained heaviness.  Even the simplest task felt like climbing a mountain. Dishes. Laundry. Meals. I had to keep reminding myself that I am blessed, which is absurd, because I truly am remarkably blessed. Then I felt guilty that I had to tell myself to be happy when objectively I should be happy anyway.  

My “to-do” list, which has had some of the items on it for literally months, all of a sudden seemed urgent and was written proof of my inadequacy.  Why was the fact that I couldn’t get around to changing the batteries in my smoke detectors suddenly throwing me into despair?  I was struggling with the sickness of perfectionism.  When I realized that this dread I was carrying around may just be hormonal, it still didn’t seem to help…

As I was throwing in yet another load of laundry, I realized that the voice inside my head was being particularly harsh.  I would never talk to anyone else the way I was talking to myself. What would I tell one of my friends if she called up saying she wasn’t hacking it as a mom because her kid didn’t have clean uniform pants this morning? And she skipped flossing their teeth last night!  Hardly abuse… even if it was the same day she’d gotten a lecture from the dentist about how important it is to floss.  I would probably laugh and remind her how hard it is sometimes and to think of all the things she did do for her family. 

The day trudged on and I along with it, trying to talk to myself as gently and kindly as I would to a friend. Trying to take life less seriously. Trying.   

As I was burping the baby, he looked at me and for the first time, clear as day, said, “Mama” and leaned in and gave me a big slobbery baby kiss. My heart stopped and the moment was suspended in time. Joy. 

And suddenly the critical self-talk and heaviness was gone. HE SAID “MAMA” J

You're Great...

When Keith and I were dating and engaged, we had the opportunity to spend a lot of time with a family who had four young children.  We got to glimpse family life up close, and yet, we proceeded (they say love is blind) J 

One of the many things I learned from the mom of this family, who is incredibly hard working and organized, was an idea that I’ve implemented in my own family. She has a plate that says, “You’re Special” on it and uses it to celebrate birthdays, good report cards, a great basketball game, etc.  Hers is really cute and probably from Pottery Barn or Crate & Barrel or Etsy.  Anyway, ours isn’t “designer”, but the boys LOVE it!

We made it through a Crayola-Create-Your-Own-Plate-Kit along with several other plates as a Christmas present to Keith a few years ago.  They have some similar items on amazon.  It is amazing how much it means to the boys to get the “You’re Great Plate”.  (It also serves well when you don’t want your two-year-old to use the fine china everyone else is using, while helping him feel special.) 

The joy they get at being told directly, “You’re Great”, is a good reminder how much they long for our affirmation and praise.   In fact, we all need that.  The other day, my oldest set the table and gave me the “You’re Great Plate” and it made my night.  We could all use a little pat on the back sometimes.

Therefore encourage one another and build one another up"

1 Thessalonians 5:11

Deals, Deals, Deals

In an effort to save money I’ve been doing more “extreme couponing”.  This involves matching coupons with sale items to get things sometimes free or very cheap.  On average I save about 50% on groceries, which is great.  However, it also involves lots of time and energy searching for the best deals, printing off coupons online, cutting coupons from the Sunday paper, organizing the coupons, and tracking sales. There are several websites that help with this, but it still takes time.  I also am not sure I’m actually saving any money at all because I buy more of the items on sale than I otherwise would and sometimes I’m buying things I would never buy otherwise. 

For example, I can get breakfast cereal on sale super cheap this way. So what, kids, if you don’t like All Bran? It was only $1/box. Nevermind that you use a dollars worth of sugar on it just to choke it down.

So I’m still perfecting my system and determining how to make this work best for us.  Sometimes it’s a hassle, like when I’m in Target with children trying to find a certain coupon to know how many Skippy Peanut Butters I need to buy to use my coupon, but it can also be kind of like a game… I was trying to explain it to my husband and the best analogy I could use was Texas Hold ‘Em.  You know how you want to kick yourself when you fold on a hand that you would have won on? That’s how I feel when I buy something and then later realize I could have gotten it cheaper somewhere else.   But when I know I got a great deal, I feel like I won somehow.

Anyway, if you too are a “thrifty” mom, here are a couple of my favorite tips, sites, etc.

1)      If your children go through hand soap like there is no tomorrow: buy a foaming hand soap (like Dial). After it’s gone (in like a week around here)… fill it about a fourth of the way full with any kind of soap (suave body wash, softsoap hand soap, etc) and the rest of the way with water. Shake and voila … hand soap at ¼ the cost!

2)      http://www.frugalmom.net/blog/

3)      http://passionatepennypincher.com/

4)      Often cities will have their own sites like http://www.denvermetromoms.com/ or http://www.kansascitymamas.com/

5)      http://organizingmadefun.blogspot.com/2011/09/31-days-to-cheaply-organize-your-home_30.html

6)      http://kidsactivitiesblog.com/save-money/

7)      http://penniesandblessings.com/2011/10/12-ways-of-christmas-ways-of-frugal-gifting/

8)      Also, Aldi is great which now has milk for $1.99. Their generic brands of chips, crackers, cereal, etc have been great.

9)      Amazon Mom Subscribe and Save can be great for diapers and other items… 20% off delivered right to your door.

10)   Costco also can be great for some items.  http://www.kansascitymamas.com/2012/01/costco-deals-top-15-list/

"He Gives Us Wine To Gladden Our Hearts"

I think sometimes we are afraid to pray because we think God is going to ask us to do something we don’t want to do, give up something we don’t want to give up, change something we don’t want to change, or add to the sense of guilt we already carry around us like a heavy burden.

But Jesus says, “My yoke is easy and my burden light”.  What does this mean?  Let me tell you a story of something that happened to me recently.

As I mentioned in my last post, money has been a little tight, and I’d recently resolved to really stay within our budget… hard core… like Dave Ramsey style.

My husband was working late several nights in a row and I had felt fried, frustrated, and desperately wanted a glass of wine.  I white-knuckled it for a few nights, but after a particularly bad day with the kids, I stopped and bought a bottle of my favorite red, Menage a Trois.

This wasn’t in the “spending plan”, but compared to a trip to the looney bin, I figured it was cheap therapy. J I did have a hint of lingering guilt however.

After I finally got the kids to bed, and poured myself a glass, I remembered that the next day was  my women’s bible study on The Mass by Dr. Edward Sri.  I knew I didn’t have the mental or spiritual capacity to do all the reading and prep that I was supposed to do, but I figured I’d at least look at the one question that I specifically had been assigned.  This is what I read:

“You bring bread forth from the earth and wine to gladden our hearts” – Psalm 104:15

“Wine is very life to man if taken in moderation. Does he really live who lacks the wine which was created for his joy?” – Sirach 31:27

“Chief of all needs for human life are water and fire, iron and salt, The heart of the wheat, milk and honey, the blood of the grape, and oil and cloth” Sirach 39:26

And I smiled and laughed and felt very loved by such a tender and gentle God who has such a great sense of humor.  And I decided that despite all my Bible Studies, and classes, and years of doing ministry, I still don’t really know God.  He surprises me and is not who I expect sometimes.

So while I fall into the trap sometimes of thinking of prayer as one more thing on a long list of personal needs that I have trouble finding the time to meet, I am reminded when I do take the time that this is not just one more task to cross off the list. This is about relationship with a God who loves me.

And I added a line item in our spending plan for wine. J

Financial Skydiving

My husband and I have tried (although imperfectly) to follow what we believe is God's will for us, even sometimes if it doesn't make financial sense.  God has proven time and time again, that indeed, "all these things shall be added unto you" (Mt 6:33).  

Despite this, we sometimes worry and stress out about finances.  One morning, as Keith and I were talking, I said, “I guess I’m waiting on God to solve this financial problem for us”.  He said he felt the same way. We have been entrusting the situation to God in prayer and have seen His ability to provide enough times to know that He can indeed solve this problem.

That same day… I opened a Christmas card with no return address with $300 in cash inside.  That same day. Amazing.   While that didn't solve our problem completely, it was as if God Himself had written me and said, “Trust Me”. 

Fast forward a few weeks later when the surprise and gratitude of that gift had begun to wear off and a new bill came in the mail, I began to worry once again.  My toddler brought me a book and asked me to read it to him. I told him it was a book for grown ups. Wouldn’t he rather read “The Grinch”?  But he insisted and I read:

“It is important to know one thing: We cannot experience this support from God unless we leave Him the necessary space in which He can express Himself.  I would like to make a comparison.  As long as a person who must jump with a parachute does not jump out into the void, he cannot feel that the cords of the parachute will support him, because the parachute has not yet had a chance to open.  One must first jump and it is only later that one feels carried.  And so it is in the spiritual life: ‘God gives in the measure we expect of him,’ says Saint John of the Cross.  And Saint Francis de Sales says, 'The measure of Divine Providence acting on us is the degree of confidence we have in it.'” 

                        -Father Jacques Philippe “Searching for and Maintaining Peace”

I am humbled and amazed by the many ways God finds to speak to us.  How He knows just what we need and gently and loving encourages us.  And I do feel like we have jumped and are feeling those parachute strings holding us… now we’re just hoping for a nice soft landing.  Having jumped many times before, I am growing more and more in my trust in God’s providential chute. I just wish I could enjoy the beautiful view from up here a little more and worry a little less. J

Time Management

“The heart has become a battlefield between love and lust” – John Paul II

I think JP II wasn’t just speaking of sexual lust, although in this culture especially it certainly is a real struggle. I think our hearts struggle with all kinds of lust… lust for comfort, for pleasure, for material goods, for affirmation, for power, for food and drink, for just about any good. I know lately with four small children I have struggled with a lust for time. With so few moments to myself, when I finally get a chance to have some time, I want to hoard it. I don’t even want to share it with God in prayer, even though He’s the one person who is guaranteed to give more than he takes from me, who is the author of time, and who can actually give me the peace I seek.

My husband read this first paragraph and said, “lust for time?...that doesn’t really work. Maybe a need for time or desire for time, but lust?” I replied that he only felt that way because he isn’t a mom.  A mother with young children actually lusts for time to herself.

An example: It’s naptime. On the agenda for me is some much needed prayer time, a workout (just 20 minutes of Jillian Michael’s 30 Day Shred… I mean who can’t talk themselves into 20 minutes) and a shower (also much needed). If I’m really lucky, maybe I’ll even shave. I'm tempted to scrap it all and take a nap myself. But first I sit down at the computer (of course, since that was nowhere on the list of things to do). I spend at least ten minutes looking at all kinds of things… some more worthwhile than others… from this

(Star Wars Superbowl Commercial falls under the less worthwhile)

to this

October Baby - In Theaters March 2012!

to this

http://momastery.com/blog/2012/01/04/2011-lesson-2-dont-carpe-diem/

Then I drag myself away from the computer and open up the Bible for that needed prayer time (although the voice in my head is getting louder saying just to get a few minutes of shut eye too). Oh, but I notice that my two year old left his play-doh out and it’s getting hard and ruined by the minute… better put it away.

By this point I hear my two year old who hasn’t napped in five days singing loudly. Loud enough, I’m afraid, to wake the baby. So I go in there and instead of threatening him within an inch of his life (which is what I’m tempted to do) I try and calm him down, rub his back, and leave. But while I’m trying to quiet my two year old the baby wakes up… what? 30 minutes? That’s it? Didn’t anyone around here get the memo that this is nap time? It’s only 1:00. A good two hours before school pick up and you boys are supposed to be sleeping! This is my only chance. For self-improvement, for change, for basic hygiene for goodness sakes!

And so my lust for time is left unsatiated and I’m reminded that nothing will make me more improved, holier, or happier, than doing God’s will in the present moment, which apparently doesn’t look the way I thought it would.

A Child At Heart...

Being one of three girls growing up, my knowledge of the male psyche was limited to my father, who usually pretended to be pretty refined, although his inner "boy-ness" could be spotted from time to time. Fast forward a few years and here I am the mom of four boys and I am getting quite the education. 

I’ve heard that men are really little boys in grown up bodies. I get to witness this in all kinds of humorous and sometimes eye-rolling ways.  Like how my husband likes to tease the boys… usually playfully, but sometimes he can’t help himself and pushes the wrong button. Or how he gets just as giddy and excited about showing the boys his favorite scene in Star Wars as a little kid.  Whether it is watching the Bronco game together or telling them a bed time story about a little bunny whose gas is so smelly it can wipe out the enemy in seconds, I have plenty of evidence that indeed, my husband is just an overgrown boy. 

The most recent way my husband has been nurturing his inner child was by buying a bb gun for the two oldest boys for Christmas.  As a mother, I was less than enthusiastic about this idea.  I could give the boys a wet noodle and they could find a way to hurt themselves….  So the idea of a weapon seemed a little..... mmm....  risky to me.  But you should have seen my husband.  He had the excitement of a little boy on Christmas morning combined with Fourth of July fireworks.   Just the thought of giving the boys this gift put a smile on his face so big that I would have to be the Grinch himself to stop it. 

And so, while I do not trust my boys for one second with our Daisy Red Ryder 650 shot bb gun, I told my husband that I do trust him.  (Hear that honey?  I TRUST YOU!)