Category: mommyhood

I normally don’t have a car through the day. But due to an unfortunate break down we had to borrow a family member’s vehicle. We haven’t taken it back yet so that allows me to have some FREEDOM!

I packed up the boys and headed out for the day – the whole day! I didn’t care where, we were just GONE!

It was a glorious day. Not without hiccups and potential bodily harm. It’s mostly Elias because he’s my – for lack of a better term – naughty acrobat. He fell out of a shopping cart onto his head in Walmart, not without taking the whole rack of toys down with him, fell off of a wooden bench in the Mall injuring my shoulder and got his finger pinched in a door trying to escape a Restaurant.

Cue end of our day out.

The day after

My boys are close in age: three, two and seven and a half months old. You can be rest assured every single day is a hectic and somewhat tough day. Today though…ten times harder!

The minute my threenager (heard this “term” recently…love it!) woke up he was upset with me. Boy, how could I mess up so soon after he opened his eyes for the day?? Something about having a car. Something about me not saying what I always say. I didn’t understand him, not because he isn’t able to speak clearly, but it was so jumbled by emotions.

At the breakfast table, what continues, but his untamed attitude. I sent him back upstairs to do an attitude adjustment. He came back down with a clear head.

Middle child, aka “naughty acrobat”, continued his naughtiness but turned it up to a new level. He decided to pull out all the decorative beads in my wedding bouquet that I have displayed on the piano. Every thing he knows he is not supposed to get into he managed to “find” in 3 hours. Whining. Screaming. Yelling. “No,” “no” and “no”….to everything.

I caught myself yelling, not loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but loud enough that it past the stern and confident level. I stopped abruptly and said, “I’m not going to raise my voice anymore. I am going to say it like this…” using my current tone as the example, “and if you don’t listen the first time then there will be consequences.”

Unfortunately I failed. I failed a little more than a time or two.

It continues

Little one decides that he’s not taking his usual three hour nap but instead to be awake after less than an hour. And refuses to go back to sleep despite all interventions.

Laundry. Oh yeah! I pull the laundry out and start throwing it in the dryer. What are these chunks of white disgusting goo?? Took me a little bit to figure it out. Yes, I washed a pull-up. It was all throughout the washer. And the dryer because I threw pieces in before I realized.

Meanwhile, middle one decides to nap less than an hour and to scream a warning that he pooped his pants. (He is potty-trained.)

Piece by piece I walk the laundry outside to shake off the white goo. Walk each piece back in and lay it on the floor. After each piece is out of the washer I wipe it down and run a load empty.

Middle child maintains a whiny attitude so he gets warned and then sent back up to bed to finish his nap. He does end up sleeping another hour or so.

I start to put clothes back in the now clean washer and realize I never pulled the goo’d up clothes from the dryer. So piece by piece again, I march the other half of the laundry outside. I bring them back in and wipe out the dryer.

The two older boys need lunch. Nothing is what they want. And yet what I give them isn’t enough. Little one wants to nurse and sleep. Of course I can’t withhold a nap of some sort since he only slept a tidbit of a nap earlier.

I can’t even recall all the reasons the two older ones were told to sit in their chairs, but it has gone on all day. Even in his chair with the seatbelt on, middle one managed to possess the play tunnel that goes with their big fabric tent. What do I see out of the corner of my eye but him ripping it in half; a big gash right in the middle. Oh yes! This momma is not very happy. It was a gift and they love it.

Oh shoot! Meat. Supper. (Yes, my memory consists of one word thoughts.) I forgot to pull meat out of the freezer for supper. No wonder we always end up with frozen fried foods! I decide to switch meals around to compensate to my lack of memory due to lack of time to think.

The two older boys are sitting quietly so I steal a moment to start thoughts on a blog. But I’m interrupted from my thoughts as I remember the little one is upstairs napping. He can’t nap too long or it’ll mess up bedtime.

I look around the house. What did I even accomplish?? I guess this is the day when my husband comes home and asks, without the use of words, what did you do all day?

What are the boys doing now? Asking for a snack. Asking me to play with them. Asking for their father to come home….actually so am I – I’m begging!!

…and we’re just entering into the “witching hour”! *sigh*

A lesson in everything

There is a lesson to be learned in everything. After all, that’s why God allows even the smallest of things in our lives. Do we always see it? Can we always see it?

The lesson is that there will be days like this. But one day I will look back and wish I still had young children. I will only have the memories in my head and a few (ha!) pictures to remember these times.

Lighten up. And be glad in it; for this season, too, will end soon.

I have been intently observing my youngest son, Uriah, for the past few months; every movement, every milestone and development, every interaction, even more so than I did with my first two sons. (If you are new to our family, then I will say briefly: since around four months Uriah has been displaying whole body uncoordinated movements. He has had several tests done over the past few weeks and all the results have been normal. This rules out some things but is inconclusive to others.) At his first appointment with neurology, the doctor discussed his suspicions for Uriah’s difficulties. I already had the same suspicions.

I researched even more. I prepared myself.

But hearing the doctor unofficially confirm the possibility of one of two diagnoses yesterday, has made reality hit me straight in the nose.

I was not prepared after all.

Fear of the unknown set in. Fear of the challenges that lie ahead. It’s called worry. It’s not pleasant. It does not reap peace or thankfulness. There is bondage. There is unhappiness. There is insecurity.

This morning was probably the first time that I really felt sad, and more than just pure concern for Uriah. I held back the tears as they threatened to spill down my cheeks. What does his future, our future, hold? I know for certain, apart from God’s healing hand, Uriah’s care right now, at 7 1/2 months old, will be his easiest. I don’t know exactly what the future holds, but if God chooses not to heal him, I know he will need, at the very least, therapy and most likely numerous other interventions.

I grabbed my Bible as it lay in front of me. I was lead to this simple verse:

Psalm 112:7 He is not afraid of bad news; his heart is firm, trusting in the LORD.

WOW! There could not have been a more perfect verse for the moment!

I am not saying this verse makes me feel less sad or concerned. Simply, my heart and my mind should be fixed on trusting God and resting in His divine purposes for our family. To be open to God’s plan and glorify Him through it.

I should accept concern, ditch worry and embrace God’s will for our lives. I need to trust that we are in God’s hands, and in those hands I need not fear!

Yesterday was Mother’s Day.

It was like every other day, full of daily routine…whining, dishes, fighting, changing diapers, disobeying, laundry, missed naps, broken down cars. Oh wait, no, the broken down car is new.

It was not the day I expected. It was not entirely special. In fact, the car situation was very un-special.

I can look back at the day with 2 perspectives.

First perspective

This perspective is the easiest and comes most naturally. It is from the very depths of my selfish heart.

The day was to be about me – honoring me, as a mother. Nothing about the day was about me. It did not feel special. I still changed the soiled diapers, I still wiped my child’s hind end, I still did the dishes, I still dealt with the endless and annoying whining from two out of three of my children, I did not sleep in, I still did laundry, I still cleaned up after the family, I still did laundry…and the car. Yes, the broken down car. How is any of that about me?

But as I moped about the day, I felt like I was slapped in the face! How easily we can be so forgetful of what we’re given! How ungrateful of me!

And so I chose to change my perspective and turn my day into a rejoice in the Lord always…

Second perspective

This takes a bit more work. It goes against our natural tendency. I can be disappointed that my day didn’t feel special like I expected or I can be grateful that it was a day like every other.

A day like every other means that we are all still alive and thriving! God has given me another day of normals!

It means that I still have my husband to be irritated with. I have kids that are healthy enough to warrant the changing of diapers and wiping of hind ends. Having dishes to wash means we have food to eat. Even the whining and crying from the kids means they are still breathing and able to vocalize. Piles of laundry (I rarely have piles!) means God has provided clothing for us. Fighting means I have another opportunity to teach the boys. A broken down car; yes, I can still be thankful for that too! A broken down car means God is using this in my life to teach me more about Him, to allow me to grow and to show me that He will provide. (Actually, because our garage is so close to the house we got to walk home.  Take a walk – check.)

And though there was nothing spectacular…there were cards. Important cards that spelled out in specific words, how much I meant to each of my family members. And there were flowers. Handmade flowers and a handmade candle. Each made from the preciousness of the heart. My second perspective has to remember these simple but special gestures.

Mother’s Day is a wonderful day of honoring mothers. But sometimes it’s okay to be reminded that we are still alive and able to take care of our household. I may not have been able to take a nap or get out of doing the dishes, but it does not mean I was not honored.

I am honored to be a mother!