Wear The Beads

Posted on April 13, 2015

Lately, I’ve been struggling with what to tell people when they ask “So, what have you been up to?” It seems to me I should be able to sweep my arm in the direction of my three young children with a flourish and say, “Exhibit A.” I don’t want to be a one dimensional person, but really, I don’t have any other answer right now. When real life happens, it doesn’t always translate so well into a short and sweet small talk answer. Maybe when there has been a major life event, there is a good answer. But when there has been no big one thing? What does a mom of little kids say? We haven’t gone to Tahiti. We haven’t moved. We haven’t had a disaster of any sort. There have just been days one after the other like beads on a string. And I’m not talking pearls. No, no. These have not been pearly, luminescent days, though they all have their gorgeous, unforgettable moments. These days have been the clear plastic bead on a piece of yarn kind. The kind full of dishes, play dates, grocery shopping, cracker crumbs, breakfasts/lunches/dinners, sick children, sick self, and so much coffee.

Nothing special has happened in the last few months. Until I remember this: every moment.

Though they can seem like just a bunch of mundane minutes, these clear bead days are precious, too, and who decides that pearls made by some ugly oysters on a dark ocean floor are more lovely than the gift a five-year-old considers a work of art? The clear beads are everywhere in my house right now, under dressers and in corners, clogging up the filter in the vacuum cleaner. They’re like the in-your-face, never ending responsibilities of mothering littles that can completely overwhelm me. But the curve of soft, round cheeks? The plump little toes in their first pair of sandals? The freckles appearing out of nowhere under sea blue eyes? Those facets of my right-now life can overwhelm me in a whole ‘nother way if I just see them with the right pair of eyes on.

I could choose to wear the necklace made up of those clear beads all tinted green, purple, pink, and blue and in no particular pattern or order, and know there is love in these days hidden all over the place and also bowling me over every morning as I roll out of my (absolutely wonderful) bed. Really, literally, bowling me over (Hello, 3-year-old son). I won’t ever have a day when I feel like everything about motherhood is perfect. Peachy. Pearly. Almost every good thing is disguised in something sort of annoying when you’re in the thick of things. A hug when you’re tired of being touched. Really beautiful singing about Jesus when the baby is asleep. These things are beautiful and an exquisite gift and are driving me crazy all at the same time. But if I don’t want to go crazy? There’s really only one good choice to make when I’m overwhelmed by all these clear beads rolling around my house and I need an answer for where all the minutes are going.

Wear them.

Wear the beads.

Everyday Life, Parenting

The Bird Feeder

Posted on February 26, 2015

I have a bird feeder in my backyard.

Big deal. Everyone has a bird feeder or a bird table.

Well, actually, it is kind of a big deal. I used to kind of scoff at bird watching. Yep, I am pretty much a terrible person. But I’m growing up. (It turns out, growing up just means you buy your own groceries, you decide for yourself when the speed limit is too fast on a certain road, and you scoff less). However, I didn’t realize I was such a scoffer when it came to bird watching until early January of last year, when one day I found myself staring through my kitchen window at the frantic birds scrounging around in the soggy, bleak backyard. My hands deep in the hot, sudsy water, rubbing grime off dishes that had sat in the sink too long, I watched the birds’ fretful hopping and pecking and was deeply thankful I had a grocery store right down the road. Then I realized, “Wait, why am I identifying with those birds? I’m bird watching! I’m like those people I’ve always laughed at.” And that’s when the self realization dawned: “<Gasp> Why do I laugh at bird watchers??!!” There it was, another bit of snobbery realized in my life.

A few days later, it snowed. My house was the warmest, coziest place it has ever been, but I found my eyes wandering out to those same little birds that I had watched a few days before. It turns out they were chickadees. I was watching them, and I was actually worrying about them. Where are they going to find any food? Why don’t I have a bird feeder? What kind of horrible human being am I? Wait, why am I worrying about this?

But those birds…they had a hold on my mind all of a sudden.

Then it didn’t seem so much like I just coincidentally started noticing birds. It was like it was all part of a plan. I attended the IF: Gathering at a friend’s home a month later in early February 2014 and listened to Shelley Giglio talk about birds. Why birds? What in the world? Well, birds are often used in the Bible to show men and women how God cares for his creation and how much more he cares for us. Shelley Giglio’s talk focused on verses from Psalms that have two bird references:

“1 How lovely is your dwelling place,
Lord Almighty!
2 My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.
3 Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may have her young—
a place near your altar,
Lord Almighty, my King and my God.
4 Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
they are ever praising you.” Psalm 83:1-4 (NIV)

Giglio went on to explain that a swallow is a very plain bird, brown and ordinary. The swallow in these verses was going about her natural work, being a mother, but the thing that stood out is that she was mothering in the presence of God. It was such a beautiful reminder to me that I don’t have to wait to seek God until all is quiet and still, I can bring my young and be with God in all things. I can dwell in my daily life, and the work of motherhood- the building the nest and having the young – can intersect with the sacred God who loves me as I am, ordinary and plain.

A year later, I still don’t exactly watch birds. I asked for a bird feeder for Christmas and it’s outside my kitchen window. The chickadees come and go on the frozen winter mornings, and it makes me happy to see them and give them a few seeds, but I’m still not fascinated by the actual creatures that I’m feeding out there. What I love is that anytime I see that bird feeder, I remember all I have learned in the past year. I know the work I do is sometimes mundane and not at all profound – it has all been done before. Yet, it is sacred. I’m in the presence of God in this nest of mine, and my children are, too. I’m reminded to scoff less, to appreciate the way I am cared for by my creator, to delight in the work of my hands. It’s amazing what one bird feeder can do. Who knows, maybe next year I’ll be carrying around a copy of National Audubon Society Field Guide for North American birds. At this point, I wouldn’t put it past me. All kinds of things can happen when you’re growing up.

Everyday Life, Parenting

This Hurts Me More Than It Hurts You: Disciplining Myself Before My Kids

Posted on February 5, 2015

It was a hot, hot August day when I figuratively picked up my favorite piece of parenting advice and flung it out the window. If I had known how much damage I would do before the day was done, I might have thrown something more tangible out of the window, like say, a Tickle Me Elmo. Because why not? What’s one more broken thing?

Baby Violet had just turned three weeks old. It was the first week of August and my three children and I had been staying home a lot. We were going stir crazy. Our MOPS group was having a play date at a local splash pad that my kids love. I knew it would be a huge challenge to care for my newborn while trying to wrangle my boisterous 3-year-old boy and his side-kick sister into following the splash pad rules (“No running! Stop running!” Don’t they know little boys don’t even know how to walk? That they are born with one speed and that speed is “running?”). But I was prepared to do the crazy thing and try. I even announced to the kids we were going. Now there was really on turning back.

Or was there? The towels were packed, the sunscreen applied, the swimsuits on, but the kids were just plain misbehaving that morning. Nothing I said seemed to get into their ears. “Don’t tip your chair back.” “Please go brush your teeth.” “Stop hitting your sister!” Honestly, my children are usually people I enjoy being around, but I guess we were in the “acting out” phase of having a new baby in the family. As the minutes passed by and the time to leave for the splash pad got closer, the utter disregard for my authority grew. I tried pleading. I tried cheerleader-ish encouraging instructions. “Let’s get those shoes on quick, how quick can you do it!! Go, team, go!” I tried The Look. I tried yelling (tsk, tsk, I know). I knew what I should do, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to say, “You know what? We can’t go out when you are behaving like this. We are staying home.” Because I really, really didn’t want to stay home.

But we did. After I finally made the decision, I managed to say it pretty calmly: “I’m sorry, I wanted to take you to the splash pad, but you are not listening to me. We have to stay home today.” There were some tears, but I think I was sadder than they were. I had broken my favorite parenting rule: “When you punish your kids, do not punish yourself along with them.” I first heard this advice when my oldest was still an infant. I thought it sounded so good, I told myself, “Oh yeah, I’m making that rule my own!” I mean, what parent needs worse punishment than being The Punisher?

Apparently, this parent.

At that moment, it became very clear that I had to let that parenting rule go. Because if I’m honest, I need just as much discipline as my children. In fact, I’m starting to realize the cruel truth of parenting is that if I want any of this discipline I’m doling out to work, I have to be the most self-disciplined of all.

Sigh. It was a sad moment of realization, but it felt right. Like when you decide to take back that shirt you bought but didn’t need when you were at Target last week.

The kids straightened up their attitudes a few minutes after I delivered the crushing (to me) blow of staying home. A bit later, I told them I would turn the sprinkler on in the backyard for them. Maybe we can redeem this day after all, I thought. That didn’t happen the way I thought it would, though. As I went out to turn on the sprinkler, I pulled on the hose a bit too hard…hard enough to pull the spigot out of the foundation of our house. I stood there for a minute, listening to the water gushing out of the broken pipe under our house, just feeling like life was really unfair. This is what I get for doing the right thing and staying home? Then I snapped out of it and did what every good homeowner does when they have a leak, which is, of course, turn off the water supply. But I couldn’t turn the knob on the valve for the life of me. Maybe it was really stuck, maybe I was too weak only three weeks postpartum, but at life seemed pretty unfair.

My husband was out of town. My in-laws were at the beach. I couldn’t reach my dad. All the while, the water flowed out of the pipe under my house. If I hadn’t been so tired, I might have turned on my own waterworks. I felt so abandoned by everyone and cheated by my good intentions of doing the right thing.

$300 later, the pipe was fixed, the kids were fed, the Little Einsteins were on, and we were all doing okay. I sat feeding my baby, trying to make sense of all the thoughts in my head (this is a big process when you’re sleep deprived). I was positive I had been the one learning the most about discipline that day. I learned in a very real way that parents have to do the right things, even when it’s hard, and that the right things aren’t always fun. They can even involve broken pipes if you’re not careful. The reward isn’t immediate and the hard things can just get harder before you see any of the good that follows. I’m still figuring this all out, but I have this feeling that pursuing discipline in myself first will be a real game changer in my home. Without my own self-correction, teachability, and humility, I don’t think the discipline I give to my children will have good lasting effects. My theory is any “discipline” I give my children will just be punishment, not training, if I’m not growing and learning right along with them.

It’s been six months since I threw my favorite parenting rule out the window. The practical side of this theory is starting to make sense in real life now. I recognize that when the kids are throwing a fit over turning of the TV after just one show, it’s a result of my own lack of discipline. Have I fallen into the habit of letting them watch more like an hour of TV? Yes. My own lack of discipline in my practices has brought us to this point of rebellion and tears and tantrums. It’s still not an appropriate response from my children, that is undeniable. And they will get some sort of consequence, probably along the lines of no TV tomorrow, which means no down time for me tomorrow. But at this point I know if I had drawn the line and stayed on the right side of it, we all would know that the line was not to be crossed. Now my children think there’s a totally different line then the one I meant to set and they feel I’m doing them an injustice. I know I am the one in this situation that the discipline starts with.

So I’m replacing my old favorite parenting rule with a new one: “Discipline in my family starts with me.” I’m praying we’ll all be better for it.

I’m just hoping it doesn’t involve any more broken pipes…

Everyday Life

31 Days to Clean

Posted on January 22, 2015

2015-01-22 10.05.32 — This is the least of our messes.

Yeah, I’m one of those people who looks up from a book one January day and sort of wakes up to the house around her and says, “How did this happen?” And then “How can this un-happen?”

Sometimes life gets messy in bad and ugly ways, but most of the time, life is messy in good ways. Blue, glittery toothpaste caked on the sinks. Unique, wonderfully made finger prints on everything. Craft supplies still spread on the table that would make a month’s wages for someone in Uganda, but we just play with for fun. The amazing amount of lovely, clean clothes in laundry baskets all over the house. The mess is actually a blessing, and it’s not my intent to complain about having it. But…the goodness still needs to be managed or it will get us down! For me, the Realization of Mess Day usually happens on a rainy day. The clouds make the clutter seem that much more consuming, the kids are spreading things out all over the house, and the only words that come to mind are from Dr. Seuss and play over and over in my crazed stream of consciousness:

“And this mess is so big
And so deep and so tall,
We cannot pick it up.
There is no way at all!”

I know I’m not alone. I’ve talked with several women in the past few days are in the same post-holiday rut.

But maybe there is a way to pick it all up! And it’s not even a machine like The Cat in the Hat had (though if those are available, I’ll take one). I’m following along with Sarah Mae’s 31 Days to Clean challenge over at her blog. It started yesterday, but I’m telling you, if you just do your dishes, you’ll be done with Day 1. It’s that basic and bite-sized. And I sure hope it works. Because I have a pile of library books due in 10 days that still must be read.

31 Days to Better Priorities will happen next month.

Ha ha.

Everyday Life, Parenting

To The Mom Whose Toddler Is Always Sick

Posted on January 14, 2015

It starts in October, November if you’re lucky, and it doesn’t stop until April.

If you have a little person in your house, you know about the common colds that come and go and come and stay during the winter months of your small child’s life.

The snot. How it flows.

And you know it’s not really about the snot. I can tell, because you’re not grossed out one iota by the word “snot.” No, what it’s really about is your child’s inability to breathe at night, the lack of sleep your whole family experiences, the resulting ear infections, maybe bronchitis, or worse. It’s about how many events or days of work you’ve missed, how much time and money you’ve spent at The Minute Clinic, or maybe just how guilty you feel that your beloved small one is under the weather again.

Believe me, I’ve been there. The effects of the common cold in children under two or three are far reaching –no one sleeps, everyone is exposed to the germs because what little child knows how to contain their own germs?, and the total inability to effectively blow his or her nose is just really discouraging. Not to mention the effects on your furniture…but let’s not go there. And I am the last person who would make light of 3:00 a.m. worry fests. I’ve gotten up at odd hours of the night just to make sure my baby was still breathing about a million times now. Sometimes I go in and listen to my three-year-old and five-year-old breathe, even though SKDS (Sudden Kid Death Syndrome) is not a thing. It’s just the way moms are. We like to know our children are okay. And seeing them sick is hard.

But, there is hope, dear mother of a constantly sick toddler. Here are two things for you to remember today as you cuddle that snotty tot and read Goodnight Gorilla five more times today.

#1 It’s not your fault.

Repeat after me: “It’s not my fault.” And I’m serious. I’m not trying to pad your inner psyche with down feathers and soften reality. Your little children are being exposed to a world of germs for the first time ever. They are getting sick because their bodies haven’t built up immunity to certain common germs. I’m not a doctor, but it stands to reason that sometimes you have to get sick first to build up immunity. It stinks, but it’s the way it goes. And maybe there are some ways to boost their immunity a bit, but whether you’re using crazy awesome vitamins or hitting the essential oils harder, those little children are probably still going to get their fair share of viruses. Sure, it’s possible that day care or preschool is causing your child to be more exposed to germs than is really good for him or her. I would encourage you to consider your options there, but the main thing I’m trying to communicate here is all children get sick at this age, and they get sick way more often than we as moms think they should. It’s pretty natural in this messed up world of sicknesses. End your guilt trip and come home to this reality: you’re a good mom, even if your child gets sick.

#2 It will get better.

A few years ago, I had a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old. We didn’t go anywhere but church, ballet class, and the occasional play date, but somehow we were still sick off-and-on for a large part of the winter. Now I have a 5-year-old, a 3-year-old, and a baby. And you know what? The 5-year-old is hardly ever sick. The 3-year-old is sometimes sick. But it is so different than when there was a toddler in the mix. Toddlers just pick up everything! They still put stuff in their mouths more often than is appropriate or necessary. And the affectionate ones, while particularly heartwarming, sure do give a lot more hugs and kisses than is absolutely necessary! But when those toddlers become preschoolers, it actually does get better. They don’t get sick with every single thing they come in contact with, and when they do get sick, they can do amazing things like blow their noses, take cold medicine, sleep on a pillow…the list could go on and on. In a few years, sicknesses will still come and go in your household, but it won’t put a hex on the whole family’s ability to function as normal human beings like it does when you have a sick toddler.

So now that you know It’s Not Your Fault and It Will Get Better, here’s the important thing. It’s temping to just shut it down and not go anywhere. Amazon groceries, anyone? Maybe that’s a good option for certain situations. But for the vast majority of us parents, keeping our children from life to protect them from sickness has much worse consequences than the sicknesses themselves. For one thing, you’ll all go stir crazy. I’m an introvert to the core, and I still go crazy after a while of not interacting with other adults. For another thing, holing up in your home may be a good idea for short periods of time, but I’ve found it really squashes our ability to care for our friends. You know, to say, “yes, we are totally up for a play date today” or “sure, I can watch your child for a couple of hours.” I would much rather my children learn to care for people than stay completely healthy all the time. It’s hard to swallow my desire to control as much as I can about my children’s wellness, but building long lasting character in our families is way more important than preventing fleeting illnesses (I know, I know, they sure don’t feel fleeting sometimes, but back to Point #2…).

And you know now that I’ve written this down my whole family will be down with the flu tomorrow. It’s pretty much a done deal. So I’ll say to myself, “I am still a good mom and sickness is inevitable. This will get better. And friendships still matter.” Even in January/February/March.

This post is featured on the blog carnival “Works For Me Wednesday” over at Giving Up On Perfect. It’s a great place to get some ideas or perspective on life.

“And this mess is so big And so deep and so tall, We cannot pick it up. There is no way at all!”

#1 It’s not your fault.

#2 It will get better.

“And this mess is so big
And so deep and so tall,
We cannot pick it up.
There is no way at all!”