Sometimes We Need Them More

At the prompting of a dear friend, I'm going to write about a lesson I've recently learned. It seems I've had my thinking a bit backwards...

You see, I have a child who has rocked my world. Unlike some children with different needs, you might not know at first glance which kiddo has rocked my world. In fact, unlike many more children, depending on the day, you might not even know which child after spending an afternoon with us. But believe me, I know.

I know because I often plan my life around this child. Of course, if you've never had such a child, that will sound crazy to you. If you have been blessed with such a child, you know exactly what I mean. From canceling plans at the last minute to letting go of a job, I've done a lot to ensure that I can give me children what they need.

Not long ago, a friend sent me an email that I'll never forget. In it, she reminded me that I'm exactly the mama God had in mind for my three children. As I read her words, I was humbled. She challenged me to view as an honor what I'd once seen as a burden. That was the first shift in my attitude change.

The second change has come over the recent months. If I'm honest, I could tell you that if my difficult child had a different personality, this parenting thing would almost be a breeze. Though I've truly never wished for life without this child, I have often desired that my child had a more flexible and easygoing personality. That dream is typically followed with thinking of all I could do if that child was just, well...easier. Life would likely be simpler and dare I say more enjoyable. And yet, I've come to realize that my life wouldn't be better. In fact, it would be worse. This child has made me who I am. This child has made me more fully understand grace. This child has made me know what it's like to empty myself until I feel there is nothing more to give. This child has made me realize that there is always something more to give. There's always something more to give because of grace.

If it weren't for grace, I don't think most of us would still be taking care of our children. Surely a parent's love is a decent example of grace. These children come to us unable to do anything for us. If anything, they do nothing but disrupt our lives and ignore our needs and yet we love them. We love them so deeply that we would die for them without a second thought. Remind you of anything?

I believe parenting in general teaches us much of God's love. Parenting my challenging child has taught me even more. It didn't take much to help me to understand that my child needs me. Of course a child needs someone who won't give up on him or her. It blessed me tremendously to think of the fact that maybe God had looked around and decided that I could do it. I could parent the kiddo that many others might give up on. Yes, that was humbling.

Yet, even more humbling than being chosen to parent a challenging kiddo (and really, aren't they all somewhat challenging?) was the realization that as much as this child needs me, I need this child. I shudder to think of the person I might be if I hadn't had this child. I'd be full of pride, not grace. Grace is so much better.

One of the most important lessons I've learned in my life is that the right thing is hardly ever the easy thing. Being the mama to a challenging child is never the easy thing, yet I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it's the right thing. I know I'm better for it and it's my prayer that my child is as well.

Not Too Little

It was a typical morning at our house. One of the children was asking me where something was that had been misplaced. If you're a mom, you're probably also the go-to person when someone has lost something. Most of the time, I know where the item is. In fact, it's rather amazing to me that I can know where tiny toys are at any given moment. It must be an acquired skill with the birth of your first child, but I digress.

Unlike usual, I couldn't find the lost toy. My son was looking for his favorite stuffed bear. It used to be my husband's. He calls it Cubby because it's a red and blue Chicago Cubs bear. My son loves Cubby. Despite it being a rushed morning, I had a soft spot for him looking for his favorite toy. I could tell he was trying not to get upset, so I joined the search party.

He went to his room to look once more and I went to mine suspecting it might have fallen off of my bed. I remembered he'd climbed into my bed the night before and might have brought his stuffed friend with him. Sure enough, there was the beloved bear tucked in between the wall and my bed. I scooped him up and headed to my son's room.

As I entered his room and announced that I'd found the bear, I noticed that he was sitting on the floor with his head bowed. I asked him if he was okay.

"I was just praying," he said. "I was asking God to help me find Cubby," he further explained.

I almost cried. Such sweetness.

Right there I was reminded that nothing is too little to bring before God. I recalled something I'd read in a recent Bible study about if something is important to us, then it's also important to God. Yes, even if it's "just" a teddy bear.

I was also reminded that those who seem too little can have some awfully big faith!

A Way of Escape

So, I might as well admit it, sometimes during Bible Study I'm making my grocery list or my to-do list. I know I shouldn't, but somedays I have a hard time focusing. Shocking, right?

Today was NOT one of those days.

I focused the entire time and only stopped to jot down prayer requests that were either shared or that popped into my head. (Whoa, sounds a little self-righteous!)

Anyways, the study was about sin. Near the end of the session, the speaker, via video, reminded us of I Corinthians 10:13. "No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to humanity. God is faithful and He will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation He will also provide a way of escape, so that you are able to bear it." (HCSB)

I zeroed in on that verse and knew God had something for me there. Then, it hit me.

I haven't been getting much sleep lately thanks to two of my little ones. Needless to say, my patience is wearing thin. This is especially the case when I'm putting the children to bed and my husband isn't able to be here to help. They aren't mellow kiddos. It isn't unusual for them to be going strong right up until they get into bed and crash. I'm not exactly the same way. I'd like to have an hour or so of calmer activity at our house before bed, but that doesn't happen without lots and lots of nagging on my part.

So, unfortunately, it happens more often than I'd care to publicly admit, that I snap at my children before they head to bed. I'm unkind. To sum it up, I'm sinful. Sure, it isn't that I totally lose it, but a few short words here and there add up. Last night, I'd barely uttered something like, "I don't want to be your mom right now!" when I was convicted and felt horrible.

After tucking everyone into bed, I felt defeated. How on earth was I going to have more patience with these children when their behavior so often tempted me to lash out with my tongue.

That Bible verse reminded me today that there is NO way on earth that I'm going to have more patience, but there is a way in heaven and He has promised a way of escape.

The other thing that caught my eye and worked it's way into my heart was that He promised to provide a way of escape in order to bear it, not to get away from it all! It doesn't mean that night time will go exactly as I plan with a few stories, a little devotion, hugs and kisses and lights out. No, there will still be children who need water and to go potty, etc., etc.

However, my God will provide me with a way to keep from sinning even when I'm about to lose it. He's promised me that and I'm holding Him to it!

Of course, I already had once chance as we left Bible study and two of my children started yelling in the car. In my head, I repeated over and over, "He'll give me a way of escape, He'll give me a way of escape." Lo and behold, He did and the incident passed.

Being impatient with my family NEVER helps the situation. Sure, I know I'll mess up plenty of more times, but today I'm choosing to be thankful that He has promised never to fail me, even when I fail miserably.

He is so good and I'm so grateful!

Letting Moments be Moments

Let me paint a little picture for you...

Earlier today, we left Bible study. I handed my two younger children their lunches. They happily munched while I drove and got a cold drink for me and a some juice for them...little treats for us all.

We happily listened to childrens music about dinosaurs, books, and doodle bugs. (A Laurie Berkner CD is one of their current faves.)

After glancing at the clock, I realized we had more than enough time to run the quick trip to the grocery store that I've been needing to do for a few days.

It's amazing that after having children for nearly six years and three children for two and a half years, that I somehow still think it's possible to have an uneventful trip to the store.

The shopping itself went rather smoothly. I may have mentioned a time or two that I wouldn't get the double seater cart next time if they didn't actually sit in it. Other than that, it was good. I let my little man pick out some yogurt and he thought he was big stuff.

By the time we'd checked out, I was nervously glancing at my watch. We had just enough time to load the kiddos and groceries and get to my son's school.

I was ten steps from the door when both of my children started asking for the bathroom. Well, truthfully, they asked earlier, but I assured them they could wait. It was clear from their faces they could NOT wait.

I sighed and headed to the bathroom. (Why do they always time these things so poorly?)

We went to the bathroom, little man to one stall and my two year old to another with me so I could help her. It turns out I wasn't much help. Somehow she got situated on the toilet so that she wet everything but the actual toilet. Her clothes, her shoes, my leg, and my shoes.

Now, in my head I was fuming, but my words were something like, "It's an accident, it happens to everyone sweetie." Of course, that isn't exactly true because I don't remember it happening to my other daughter, but I'm sure it happens. Again, I'm not sure why those things always happen when we're running late.

I got us both cleaned up and assured her that I had extra clothes in the van. I called for my son who loudly announced, "I'm going stinky." Of course he was. I saw a couple of people try not to grin or even act like they'd heard.

I sighed again and gave another glance at my watch.

A few minutes later I helped him wash his hands and we were off. I tossed the groceries and the kids in the car. (I was a bit more gentle with the kiddos.) I pushed that silly double seater cart right over my foot as I returned it to the cart corral. Perhaps that's why people don't return carts?

A woman noticed me get hurt and I simply mentioned it wasn't my day.

I slumped in the car and thought, "What did I just say?" Hadn't the earlier part of the day been just fine? Did the last ten minutes really define my day?

It was then I realized what has been one of my biggest challenges of parenting young children. I have a hard time remembering that moments are simply that, they are moments. It doesn't matter if they are filled with temper tantrums (mine and theirs), potty accidents, boo-boos, or otherwise. They are simply moments. Sure, some days have many, many more than others, but they still don't have to define our days.

I pondered that as I drove while once again jamming to some serious kids tunes. I took a deep breath and I put that moment behind us. As I did, I realized it was actually quite comical.

My son was on time for school. He walked in with a wave and a smile.

"Let moments be moments," is something I feel I'll probably be telling myself a lot from now on. Perhaps even a moment from now.

She's Growing Faster than I Think I Can!

A favorite book of mine as a child was There's a Monster at the End of this Book. Lovable, furry old Grover from Sesame Street spends the pages of the book begging the reader not to turn the page because he is afraid of the monster at the end of the book. Of course, the delighted reader turns each page only to discover that an embarrassed Grover is in fact the monster at the end of the book. I'm sure I laughed every bit as much as my children do each time we read that story. Since the book is so special to me, I suppose it isn't surprising today that I feel a bit like Grover.

This morning, right before Ann's dentist appointment, I discovered that one of her top teeth is loose. I did the whole mom thing and shook my head in disbelief that she could be possibly losing her third tooth when she just finished teething, or so it seems.

I felt the same way last week when she discovered Silly Bandz. Now, she proudly sports a wrist full of those and other bracelets. How did my baby get in on a fad?!

I could go on and on about the things she does that make me realize that she is getting older and bigger. There is that little fact that she is soon going to full day kindergarten.

Meanwhile, I feel like Grover wanting to "block" her way. It isn't that I'm not happy for her and excited about all she has yet to discover, it's simply that like Grover, I'm a bit scared, for both of us. Until now, I've known what she is doing almost every minute of the day and that is now about to change.

So, like Grover I've wanted to keep her from turning the next "page." Of course, the pages of life must be turned. And so, the story goes on.

Yet, a week or two ago, I felt like Grover does at the end of the story...almost embarrassed. You see, as I drove along thinking about Ann going to school, I told God that I just love her so much and can't bear the thought of the world hurting her. Though I know it will and must happen, I still don't like to think about it. After I prayed those words, I heard Him whisper, "I love her more."

I couldn't help but smile and sit up a bit straighter. Though I can't understand it, I do believe it. God loves her more than I do. I know how much I love her so I know that's a whole lot. It's hard to be too frightened when I know she'll be constantly watched over by One who loves her more than I know.

I suppose it's time to switch my mindset to another favorite story from my childhood, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...." I think I can be confident about my sweet girl going to school. It's going to be great!

A Reminder from the Crib

What a day! The day started with a bed wetting incident that I had to clean up. I recall that there was some other crisis but I don't remember exactly what it was!

We progressed on to the older two kids going to Vacation Bible School and Jane and I heading to Walmart to replace the tire that blew out on the way home from church yesterday afternoon. (Thankfully we were all safe and both a friend and a state trooper came to our aid.)

By the time I had finished at Walmart and ran another errand, it was time to pick up Ann and Chris. It took me about two seconds to see that they'd had an amazing time and it was going to be a long afternoon.

Sure enough it was. It was made longer by the fact that Tony is flying home today and won't be home until well after the children are asleep.

So, imagine my surprise when Jane chose tonight of all nights to demonstrate her ability to climb out of her bed and open doors.

Bed time was quite the three ring circus. Yet, in the middle of it all, I was reminded of something--it won't always be this way.

As I hauled Jane's crib mattress out of her bed I became nostalgic. That crib has been a constant in our house for over five and a half years. Yet soon, it will come down and be passed along to someone who needs it.

In the midst of a night full of tears and frustration (mine and theirs) that crib served as a reminder of how fleeting this time is. Yes, there are days like today that are hard, so hard. But, all in all, this is such a sweet, sweet time.

So, as I took another look at that crib and at the sweet face of my youngest sleeping on a mattress on the floor, I sighed.

I headed back into the two rooms of my older children and smiled through gritted teeth as I reminded them I loved them. In other words, I was "faking it until I made it."

Do you know what? Eventually my smile became genuine and I was reminded of how blessed I am.

Not more than five minutes passed until my son disobeyed and came out of his room and downstairs to find me. This time my perspective was right. Though I still had to discipline him, somewhere in my mind I was able to remember that one day I will miss that little curly head coming down the stairs for one more hug or to tell me something "really important."

Thank you, Lord for using a crib to remind me of what's really important. (Not necessarily the things my son says to delay bed time!" I am blessed.

Time to Lace Up

Today marked the first time I went on a walk with one of my children when I was the one who had to struggle to keep up. To be fair, Ann was riding her bike and I made the mistake of thinking I would just walk and keep up with her. That isn't easy to do when you're wearing sparkly flip flops and jeans!

As I trailed behind her, I couldn't help but think how much our ride/walk symbolized my life as a mother right now. Slowly but surely, I'm leaving the season of sippy cups and afternoon naps. (I hope that completely leaving behind afternoon naps will be very slow in coming!) Sometimes I find myself struggling to keep up.

Often, I'll be getting ready to do something for one of my children and they will have already done it. My oldest makes her bed, fills her water cup, feeds the dog, sets the table, sorts her laundry and more. Yes, I like that she does these things. After all, we've trained her to do them. However, with each new skill she learns, I'm reminded that she is ever so surely decreasing her dependence on me. Of course, that is how it is supposed to be and I have every intention of celebrating with her even if I occasionally wipe away a tear or two.

This week we will be going to her end-of-year PreK program. She is registered for Kindergarten and I know it won't be long until we're shopping for school supplies and packing her lunch for her first day of school. You see my thoughts haven't kept up with her development. In my mind she is still a three-year-old meeting her little sister for the first time as she holds her one-year-old brother's hand. She is the two-year-old who eagerly anticipated our move back to Kansas. She is the one-year-old who had a most impressive vocabulary. In my head, she is most definitely not a five-and-a-half-year-old who grows less dependent by the day.

Apparently my mind is wearing some flip flops. I suppose it's time to get myself in a running-shoe frame of mind. After all, as much as I'm going to miss these toddler/preschooler days, I sure don't want to miss any of the fun that's sure to come.

Time to lace up.

More Than Enough

Whew! What a day!

The day started with my son spilling water on my cell phone. (It survived.) From there it progressed to a potty-training toddler who missed the toilet and somehow managed to get some poo stuck underneath a door. (Seriously?!)

Unfortunately, I didn't take the hint and craw back in bed. Instead, we headed to a meeting about one of our kiddos to find out if maybe we should be taking more action or getting more assistance with said kiddo's behavior. Instead of learning anything new, I left feeling very, very frustrated. I felt as though I'd wasted two hours and had no new insight into how to best help my child.

So, as I drove home to where my friend was watching my other two children, I took a deep breath. I prayed and realized that God will help us to train our children in the way He wants them to go. Now, though I became more peaceful I was still frustrated.

Later on in the day, Tony called to check in and see how things were going. At the time, they weren't going so well. However, he also had called to inform me that he had been given a surprising and generous raise.

Though I couldn't be more proud of Tony, it was something else that struck me as I hung up the phone. I knew in that way that I'm not quite able to describe in words, that God was reminding me that He loves me. He is taking care of things even when I don't realize it. Though I might be looking for one answer and focused on what I'm not getting (answers to my child's behavior) He is reminding me of how much He loves me and will always take care me.

So, I'm not ending the day any closer to answers for how to best train our child. However, I am very much reminded of how much God loves me and how freely He gives. (Both materially and spiritually.) That is more than enough.

What a Day!

Despite the fact that it poured rain all day long, life around here was more like living in a sun-scorched land.

The day began with a cranky child before the said child even got up for the day. It progressed to bickering siblings, some of whom resorted to kicking, biting, hitting and name calling.

From there, we moved on to getting children to the right preschool and dance class all in the pouring rain.

Basically there was more screaming, fighting, potty talking, and general chaos that I like to recall. It actually got bad enough that I was nearly in tears before we made it home from the gym.

As we drove home, I noticed a break in the clouds. Finally! I couldn't help but think of how God offers us so much hope and my heart was encouraged.

Instead of putting the kids to bed as quickly as possible, I followed our usual routine of reading books and then reading a Bible Story.

As I lay belly-down on the floor with my 5 and 3-year-old, the clouds truly began to break in our day. We shared a couple of silly stories and then we began to read from The Jesus Storybook Bible.

As I read about Adam and Eve, my children began to ask questions. We had a wonderful conversation about Jesus and His sacrifice for us. The more we talked, the more their eyes began to sparkle. I could see that they were starting to just barely comprehend the hope we have when we choose Him.

I indeed began to feel like a well-watered garden.

I guess it's not surprising that I'm ending the day feeling like it was a good one. Funny how those last twenty minutes in the day made up for the crazy previous twelve hours.

"The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." Isaiah 58:11

I Keep Thinking It's Supposed to Get Easier!

Recently, some of my friends have added little ones to their families. Interestingly, they have all added third babies to their brood. During this time, my youngest has turned two. And when I say she has turned two, I mean SHE HAS TURNED TWO! (Good thing that I think two-year-olds are the cutest!)

Anyways, all that to say, I'm no longer the one running around with the youngest kiddos in the bunch. It's like all of the sudden it made me realize maybe I should have my act together at least some of the time.

However, that isn't always or usually the case. In some ways, I find three preschoolers more challenging than when they were all a bit younger. Still, I set expectations for myself that are rather unreasonable. I extend grace and have understanding for others, but when it comes to me, I figure I should have the hang of this being a mom of three after two years.

Thinking like this can wear a girl out!

That's exactly how I felt as I drove to Bible Study on Monday night. I was tired of always needing to be one step ahead of my kids. I had even cried earlier that morning before a meeting that I was supposed to help lead. It wasn't that it had been a bad morning, it was just that the good mornings are still rough!

So, as I sat their sipping my decaf, enjoying some fellowship, and getting ready to watch a Beth Moore DVD, I was a bit down still.

As we reviewed our homework, a verse truly nearly jumped off the page at me.

"The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." Isaiah 58:11

I don't know about you, but being a momma can sometimes leave me feeling like I'm in the midst of a sun-scorched land!

These words reminded me that it's okay if I'm worn out and tired. He isn't and He has promised to be my strength. I don't pretend to understand exactly how that all works. I'm just glad it does! Thank you Lord!

The Red Crayon

It's Sunday, which means Monday is tomorrow. Obviously.

Like most households, I assume, Monday is when we get back to our regular schedule after a fun couple of days doing mostly what we'd like. Two days of fun also make for a house that needs to be whipped back into shape. Laundry has usually piled up and everything is just a bit out of place from the different comings and goings. Add all of that to the fact that Monday is a day full of activities out of the house for us and it can get pretty crazy.

That brings me to my point...

This morning, I decided to be proactive with how our week started. I made a list yesterday of all the things that I should get done this weekend so I could start the week off on the right foot. I was going to finish my chores from the week, get a head start on this week's chores, and start my research for an article that has a fast-approaching deadline. Well...

My first step to getting a head start on my week was to change loads and fold the load of clothes that I'd left sitting in my dryer yesterday. I put some bread in the toaster and went to do just that. Unfortunately, the clothes were still damp as it was a rather large load. That was the first glitch in my perfect little plan, but since the clothes didn't smell of mildew, I just set the dryer for a bit more time and went back to fixing breakfast so we'd get to church on time.

After breakfast, I headed back to the dryer and began tossing the clothes in the laundry basket. As I did so, I noticed red marks on almost all of the large load of clothes. I looked closer and realized that it looked like wax. Before I could even finish my thought, a crayon wrapper tumbled to the ground. It was a red crayon wrapper. The mystery was solved and I wanted to cry or scream.

Instead, I did what every modern mama would do and I turned to facebook. My friends came through and suggested all sorts of things that should help me get the crayon out of the clothes. Oddly enough, no one mentioned what I actually did which was to toss all the clothes in a bag until I have the motivation and time to actually tackle them. I'm hoping to get the laundry caught up first. Of course, if I wait for that, I might never work on the stained clothes...

The rest of the day went pretty much as it started. Little inconveniences seemed to pop up here and there and I realized I had a choice. I could either get upset that my day wasn't going according to plan or I could let go of my illusion of control. With God's help, (and a quick email to a friend) I chose the latter.

As the day turned into evening and I received some phone calls making one of my activities a bit more challenging tomorrow, I just sighed and thought, "it's just like the red crayon." I can either be upset about what happened or count my blessings.

I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've cried over the red crayon, or spilt milk or whatever. However, today I was reminded of how it's up to me as to whether I let something so little (though very annoying) ruin my day.

Perhaps I'll even leave some of that clothing stained as a reminder not to make big problems out of little problems. (At the very least it would be an excuse to skip what is sure to be a tedious task.) Regardless, I do pray that more and more I would learn from the "red crayons" in my life, because like it or not they will be there. Fortunately, so will He, helping me through both the big and little inconveniences of life!

Back in Time?

A few weeks ago, my sweet four year old, Ann, asked me something about what age I'd like to be once more. I thought about it and decided I wouldn't really like to be any other age as I like where I'm at right now.

Later that night, I started thinking some more I realized there is a time in life I wouldn't mind reliving if just for a bit. I wish I could take back the first four months of Ann's life.

Ann pretty much destroyed my hopes of what life with a newborn would be like. She wasn't the type of baby who slept away the first two weeks and then got just a bit fussy. No, she fussed from day four which was conveniently the day we got to bring her home from the hospital. In fact, she fussed the whole way home from the hospital.

As new parents, we spent most of those first months just figuring out exactly what it meant to be parents. (We're still doing that.) I can remember laying Ann on the floor and lying beside her as I played a lullaby CD very loudly in the hopes that it would somehow drown out her incessant screaming.

Another time, I recall putting Ann safely into her crib and heading out to the front stoop where I called my friend long distance and told her that "I didn't really like this mommy thing." She understood and told me that it was just fine to sit outside for ten minutes and get a breather from all the crying. She was right and I felt much better upon returning inside the house.

I could tell you stories of how I paced from the front door to the back door and counted how many times I would do this in the hope that Ann would fall asleep or at least stop crying.

I invented errand after errand because I knew she would fall asleep in the car and I could enjoy just a bit of peace and quiet. (Good thing gas was a bit cheaper four years ago.)

As I recall those days, I think of all the time and energy I spent fretting about something not being right with our parenting or worse, something not being right with our sweet baby.

Nearly five years later, Ann is incredibly smart and unbelievably strong. (I know all parents think that about their offspring, but with her it is absolutely true!) Sure, she has her moments and can be less than loving to her brother and sister, but I wouldn't trade her for the world. In other words, Ann is just fine and so are we.

As I thought about that time in our lives and how I wish I had savored it a bit more, I don't have regret so much as a realization that I could have enjoyed that time so much more if only I'd known. Isn't hindsight a tricky thing?

I'm at a similar point right now. In all my five years of parenting, I'm in the midst of one of the hardest times yet, but not because of anything terribly tragic. (Does that even make sense?) Rather, it is the daily challenges that make me weary. We almost always have some sort of meltdown before 8 in the morning. One of our children doesn't sleep well so we haven't actually slept through the night in more than three years. Our house is in a constant state of disarray and sometimes destruction despite our best efforts. Our children sometimes show no signs of the effort we take to train them and instill godly character traits in them. I worry when I see them be the bullies on the playground or in the play place. The list could go on and on and on...

Still, there is a place deep inside of me that knows that one day I would probably gladly take back the sleepless nights, tempter tantrums, potty training, diaper explosions and the rest of it, if only to rock my babies just one more time.

I know I'll miss seeing this little guy as a three year old who plays with blocks and dinosaurs and likes dressing up with a cape or a cowboy hat.

I'll miss Ann's four year old self and her cheesy camera smile.

I'll even miss this sweet one's antics when she awakes only an hour after we put her to bed for the night. (I took these pictures when she awoke shortly after her siblings went to bed. I brought her downstairs for a bit of milk and she turned on the charm. We wanted her to sleep, but the sweet memory of a few moments of alone time with her were worth it.)

Just seeing those sweet faces makes me feel so blessed.

So, I'll continue to count my blessings (even the ones that wake me in the middle of the night) and I'll try to look beyond the everyday challenges and see how I can be a blessing to those I love both inside and outside of my home. It might not be easy, but then again, nothing worth doing usually is...

She Knows Where to Bow Down

We recently drove by a sculpture that I thought the children would like. I pointed to it and amazingly, both Jane and Chris looked out the right window and observed the sculpture.

Within a few seconds Chris commented that it looked like clouds. I understood how he could think that and agreed.

Ann was quiet. I didn't think she had cared much about it. A minute or two later I heard her say that it is "bad to bow to statues." I quickly realized that she was referring to the story of Daniels' three friends, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego from Daniel 3 in the Bible.

I told her she was absolutely right while Chris asked her what "bow" means.

As she began to answer, I prepared myself to hear her say "to bend down" or something similar. Her answer pleasantly surprised me.

Ann told Chris that bowing down to a statue means that you say "I like this (statue) better than I like you, God." She once more told us that we shouldn't bow to statues.

Moments like that remind me of why it is we, as parents, do what we do. It is humbling. It is an honor. It is something I don't want to take for granted.

Double the Grandparent Love

I don't suppose children ever want their parents to divorce, yet that is what happened to both Tony and me when we were younger.

At that time, I didn't think much good could come of something like divorce. To this day, I still sometimes think about how things could have been different.

Yet, God is able to make good things come of less than desirable situations.

My children now have eight grandparents who shamelessly love on them.

This summer, all eight grandparents have come to visit us and by us, I mean the kids because Tony and I aren't nearly as cute or entertaining. (Well, Tony is pretty cute, but that's besides the point.)

Anyways, I love that it is next to impossible to tell which grandparents are related by blood and which are related through marriage. They all just love our kiddos so much and are so good to them.

Perhaps our family lives didn't end up the way we'd hoped, but I'd say the grandparent situation is very, very good. For that, I'm grateful.

Here is one of many pictures demonstrating that awesome grandparent situation.

My Dad with Chris

(Try to ignore the quality of the photo. It's what happens when you've got a dirty lens and a lazy photo editor!)

The Kind of Friends I Have

It shouldn't surprise me. I really shouldn't be caught off guard by the kindness of my friends, but sometimes...

Sweet Avery went to be with Jesus on Tuesday night. Tony and I knew we would be there with our friends to celebrate her too-short life. We just weren't sure how we were going to manage that. A seven-hour trip is a bit much for three children four and under especially if the destination is a service where they would need to be on their best behavior.

We don't have grandparents in town so there weren't many family members to call on to help watch the children. However, I knew I could call upon my friends and I knew they would say yes, but they did more than that.

I called two dear friends and each of them, practically before I could finish asking the question said yes. Yes, they would watch one of my children for a couple of days while we went to be with our friends who are grieving. There was no sign of hesitation in their voices.

I'm not sure if my friends had plans for the weekend that they'll have to cancel. They might, but I know they would never tell me. They wouldn't want to me feel badly about imposing on them.

As I hung up the phone with each of them, I was almost in tears (as I am now just thinking about it).

Now, as if that wasn't enough, two other amazing friends have offered to let us stay with them in their homes while we're traveling. Friends like mine are such an amazing blessing and a testimony of God's love. I hope they know that I don't ever take them for granted.

Because I'm Having a Hard Time Savoring the "Brownness"

Like most of you, I've gotten into Facebook. I like reading my friends' statuses and looking at their pictures. I sometimes try to post witty little status updates, though I'm sure they're never as clever as I'd like to think they might be.

Today however, I posted a status update to get some sympathy. Truthfully, I did the same last night as well.

My run in with the "brownness" started last night as I pulled a load of laundry from the dryer. I was going to fold it as I watched that show with a couple of parents, a set of twins, and sextuplets. (Yes, I've been sucked into that as well.)

I was a bit surprised to find that every single article of clothing but one was covered in something brown. It looked like chocolate which meant it also looked an awful lot like something else. I went through the entire load desperately hoping that I hadn't accidentally tossed a dirty diaper in with the wash. (Trust me, that could totally happen around here.)

I didn't come up with a dirty diaper, but I did find a brown crayon wrapper. Apparently the warm/cold cycle was just enough to melt the crayon so that it bled all over the clothes, but didn't actually wash out of them. Fun.

So, I posted about that on Facebook. It felt good to know I wasn't the only one who had had a laundry mishap.

Today when I posted about something brown, it was, unfortunately, in regard to the stinky brown stuff.

I'll spare you the details except to say that there was poo on my couch. Yuck. I'd like to say I reacted well when I saw what happened. But, I'll be honest and say that my voice got a bit too loud with my son and I'm pretty sure I made him feel horrible, which of course, made me fell horrible. (At least it did a bit after the fact once everything was a bit cleaner and better smelling.)

Anyways, a friend of mine commented on my status that she has had all kinds of things grace her couch. Since she went on to say how thankful she is for Resolve, I'm pretty sure she wasn't talking about lovely things. She then added that perhaps when the kids are grown and on their own, we'll have clean houses. "Until then," she wrote, "savor the brownness."

You see, that is the problem. I'm not savoring the "brownness" right now. Instead, I'm dreading it and resenting it. I'm into this parenting thing when all is going well and we're all cheerful and being kind. But then we all wake up in the morning and don't always make the best choices. The fighting, fussing, and mess-making just gets old.

It makes me tired. I let it make me cranky. It isn't really a pleasant way to to share my days with my little ones.

Honestly, it is probably why my blog has been a bit quiet these past few weeks and perhaps even months. I'm having a hard time savoring those annoying moments. I'm even having a hard time at least appreciating that I can turn them into silly little blog posts. (Gasp!)

I was thinking about that this afternoon and remembering a billboard I once saw. It said something about little kids making big stinky (I added that word on my own) messes. Then, it encouraged the reader to "parent with patience."

It's so easy to say and so hard to do. I'm so glad I've got a Helper. I know with Him, I'll somehow learn to "savor the brownness." Even the stinky kind. Even when it seems impossible.

More Than Siblings

Countless times I've turned up the music in the van to drown out the unhappy sounds of my children. A newborn's cries and a preschooler's tattling are both more unpleasant in the enclosed space of a van.

Tonight was different.

As we drove home after a lovely evening with friends, I found myself first turning down the music and then turning it off.

Ann was asking me for a guinea pig when our dog "goes to heaven."

Chris said he didn't want the guinea pig to bite him.

Ann quickly reassured him that she wouldn't let that happen.

Convinced of his safety, he added that he'd like a monkey.

Ann confidently told him that he couldn't have a monkey because they need trees and we can't have those inside.

On and on the conversation went. I answered questions as they asked them, but mostly I just listened.

I thought back to when Ann was nearly two and Chris was just a baby. He cried each and every time we got in the car. Nothing would soothe him. For those five seemingly long months that he screamed any time we were in the car, I would have never imagined how in just a short while he and his sister would be carrying on friendly chatter as we drove peacefully through town.

Next I caught myself daydreaming about what they might be talking about 10, 20, or 30 years from now. Before I could even begin to imagine them as adults, I found myself hoping and praying that they would be good friends.

Seeing and hearing my children enjoy each other's company as we drove made me feel even more blessed than usual. It also served as a reminder that the tedious and exhausting job of helping my children learn to get along day in and day out may one day be richly rewarded.

If my prayers are answered, my children won't simply call each other brother or sister, they will call each other friend.

A Lesson From My Eyeballs

Back when I wore contacts, I frequently stuck my finger in my eye and moved my contact around until it was just right. I would sigh and be able to see once more.

Oh how I'd like to do that right now. Except of course, I can't. Well, I suppose I could, but since I had eye surgery just a few days ago, I'm guessing that isn't the best idea.

Fortunately, I'm going to the doctor in just a bit for a follow-up. I'm really hoping that the bandage contacts are removed.

Meanwhile, I'm ashamed to say I've been a cranky wife and an even crankier mommy.

I keep thinking how silly it is of me to be so frustrated by something that was elective, sort of even cosmetic surgery.

It is at times like these that I realize how much I need to change to be the person God wants me to be. Progress sometimes seems so slow when it comes to bearing such fruit as patience.

However, I know that God won't give up on me. Just like my recovering vision, the process might be slower than I'd like, but I know the end result will be worth it.

It's Not My Thing

Recently, another mom surprised me by saying something other than the usual, "you have your hands full."

Instead, she commented about how having several small children was "obviously my thing."

Really? I don't think so. It really isn't at all.

I mean I do love this job and wouldn't trade it, but most of the details involved just aren't my thing. I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Five years ago, if you'd told my newly-pregnant self that I would soon have three small children, I wouldn't have believed you. If you had gone on to say that I would learn how to ignore temper tantrums while nursing a baby and reading to a preschooler, I would have looked at you like you were crazy. I would have even doubted that doing all of those things at once was humanly possible.

Then again, before I had a baby I doubted that living on a mere few hours of sleep was possible not only for a day, but for weeks.

You see, much of motherhood isn't my thing. It really isn't my thing to change dirty diapers, wipe snotty noses, and answer hundreds of questions each day. Those things are tedious and take huge amounts of patience.

The snuggling, trips to the park, and reading of stories are all great fun. However, those things don't make up the majority of my day.

By God's grace, I'm learning to make all of motherhood my thing. I'm a work in progress.

No, it isn't my thing It's His thing. I'm just honored to be a part of it.

The Funny Thing About a Blog

A mom blog is a funny thing. It gives one a glimpse into others' lives, but we must remember it is only a glimpse.

A few nights ago, we had a wonderful moment in the van. We were on the way home from some friends' house. They live on quite a bit of land so the area around their house was quite dark. Ann and Chris were going on and on about being scared of the dark.

Once we started driving, they stopped saying that they were scared. (They really weren't anyways.) It was the conversation that followed that made me smile. Ann was telling Chris that there was no reason to be afraid of the dark since God is always with us.

I knew that was a moment that I wanted to document. Yet, since I've been doing a lot of thinking about "being real" I also thought a bit of how posting that little story would paint one picture of our life together. If I only posted about similar moments, it would certainly seem that we have perfect children who gently encourage one another all day.

Before I even had a chance to think more about this, much less post it, I once again found myself listening to my children in the van. Of course, it was impossible not to listen to them as they were screaming.

At one point, Chris began yelling, "Ann is looking at me!" His tone made it perfectly clear that he didn't want her looking at him.

Now, if I only shared those type of stories, the picture of our life together would certainly look different.

The stories are both true, but they are obviously quite different, just like our days. I want the picture I paint of our lives to be real. I want to remember what these days were really like. They aren't always full of giggles and grins.

Perhaps I don't even know the point I'm trying to make. The more I think about something, the harder time I have at expressing myself.

Maybe all I want to say is that our life is so much more than the recordable or blog-worthy moments. In fact, the things that don't seem worthy of remembering and the things we try hard not to remember may be the most important things of all.

It is those "negative" experiences that make hearing your daughter tell your son that God will take care of him all that much sweeter.