Saturday, July 3, 2010

you Know You're A Mom When...

You know you’re a Mom when...

You wake up before your alarm clock and while your body still sleeps
You find yourself in the kitchen pouring milk and forget how you got there
You find yourself bombarded with “urgent” questions the minute you sit down on the potty
You call it “the potty” even among other adults
You can nurse a baby, fix your daughter’s hair, and sip coffee all at once
You wish you could be put in timeout instead of the ones who are sitting there
You find that your once filled plate of food has been eaten, but none of it went in your mouth
You discover yourself snacking off your kids’ plates in kind
The smell of someone else’s poop indicates what time of day it is, or where you are in your daily routine
Apple juice is one of the beverages you offer your guests, along side coffee, tea, & wine
You find yourself using your shirt to wipe someone else’s nose
You discover baby’s breakfast on your shoulder after you arrive where you were headed
Pee on the floor (or elsewhere) means right of passage to being big kids and wearing undies
You catch a glimpse of yourself doing the “yay for potty” dance in the hall mirror
You realize you just spent $50 to entice your child to poop
Your kitchen timer is your best friend, that is, until Daddy gets home. 
You learn speaking “cutesy” comes naturally, and even unbidden, and sometimes at the wrong time
You find yourself staring at your “mini-me” wondering if you really do sound like that
You crack up at nonsense and your child makes you smile even when you aren’t with them
Making it out the door with everyone’s shoes on is not a requirement but a miracle
Being on time looks more like 10 minutes late... on really good days
You hear yourself saying, “Stay close to Mommy,” to whomever happens to be with you
Your only response to the screaming child at the supermarket is relief that it’s not yours
Chicken nuggets and hot dogs live in your freezer
You can actually hear 4 people talking to you at once and know who needs what
You fall into bed without batting an eye at the Elmo tooth brush, action figures, My Little Ponies, cheerios, or the “Emergency!” screaming fire engine that beat you to it
You find yourself vacillating between immense guilt over not meeting everyone’s needs, and intense love that is unconditional and motivates you to do it all over again tomorow
You find yourself eating all your “smart” words and revising all the “intelligent” parenting vows you made before it was your genes running amuck for all the world to comment on

But most of all, you know you’re a Mom when you cannot imagine life without it all, and wouldn’t trade any of it for life before “Mom” prefaced your given name. 



Monday, June 28, 2010

a Special Debate #2

This weekend my husband got distracted by a billboard depicting a woman’s naked back, shoulders and arms.  As a woman, my senses went on high alert.  Immediately I was offended and comparing myself.  Not even at a conscious level to begin with.  But, I soon became aware of why I was so edgy, especially as we walked around other “more” beautiful women.  
My husband is a normal guy - and has had his fair share of struggles here - but he is truly amazing to me when it comes to guarding himself, his eyes and his thought life.  The area of women and lust is a whole new one for me, and my understanding of the male psyche is still very limited. But, my husband goes out of his way to make it clear to me that he only has eyes for me, something I dearly love about him.  
The down side to all this is that when my husband is angry, upset, stressed or distracted, with me or otherwise, his guard slips.  He can send a zinger my way with one stray look.  My heart, my self-esteem, my confidence, even my gentleness deflates and gets sliced in two.  
Asking myself “why” led me to this: I want to be special in my husband’s eyes.  I want to feel that to him I am the most beautiful.  Which in turn often leads me to this: Am I more attractive than her?  What is her best feature and how to I compare?  What drew his attention, do I have that?  How do I make myself into that?  
So this is it.  I want to be special - to someone.  But, if I was okay with not being special - okay with not being as attractive, as alluring, as head-turning - would I still be okay?  If my place in this world is not as one who is special, would it be so offensive or deflating when someone else “more” special (in this case, attractive) walks by?  
If it’s not my place to be special, but it is my place to be one who is loved, might I just maybe find that I am at peace with myself?  If I accepted my place as a normal, non-uniquely beautiful, but loved woman, would it be less intimidating to pass billboards? Might I get my feelings hurt less often?  
Maybe it boils down to this; if I am okay with not being special, then perhaps I will be less consumed with myself and more available to love others.  Primarily my husband.  And, perhaps to other women who struggle too.


Saturday, June 26, 2010

mother-In-Law

In talking with my hubby recently about our first several years of marriage, we began to realize something... his mother taught him well, as a mom she was one-of-a-kind, devoted, loyal, zany, passionate and godly.  But, when it came to her boys getting married she did one thing that wasn’t so smart.  She started in on me, “teaching” me how to love her son. 

My husband said to me, “in her defense, Lins, that was her world, taking care of her man.”  Sure.  I buy that.  I can respect that.  But one main point here, she wasn’t MY mom.  In fact, she was very different from my mom.  And the way she wanted me to behave was a total paradigm shift from the way my mom raised me. 

In fact, instead of taking time to teach her son how to love his wife and encouraging him in ways that could have fostered more understanding between her son and I, taking his defense and trying to train me in her methods of loving men only increased tensions between all three of us. 

Now, in fairness, her heart was pure and she truly loved me and she did a great job in making sure I knew her love.  My husband was right in defending her.  She did the best she could with what she knew.  The motives were great... just the method was rather off and the results falling short. 

Lesson for my hubby and I?  As the mom of two sons (so, Lord willing, a future mother-in-law to their wives), my focus needs to be on encouraging my sons in selfless love for their wives.  Here I lay down in black and white my naive vow *not to give advice unless asked (and even then to do so with utmost caution), *not to assume I’m needed, *to praise my future daughters-in-law methods of loving my sons, and, *to encourage my sons to sacrifice themselves for the sake of their wives - which in most cases will likely mean not doing things my way.  I should probably put down something about never criticizing too... but those words elude me tonight. 

To round off these thoughts, my husband didn’t hesitate to agree.  Saying, “I do wish my mom had taught me more about women and how to love a wife.”  While remaining a loyal and respectful son, he says his goal is to excel in setting an example for his boys while doing his best to train his daughter in ways to respect her future husband.

*These are totally naive vows, and will likely get revised multiple times, especially once I am in the midst of being a mother-in-law... 

what Is Your Religion?

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. ~ James 1:27

Hmm. I don't know any orphans that need looking after currently.  Nor do I know any widows who are not already very well cared for.  If I take into account the things that I spend time worrying about, I'd have to admit that I just might be polluted by the world. 

I think some changes need to be made in my life...

Monday, June 21, 2010

you Know You Are Tired When...

  You're making instant coffee and you pour boiling water into the coffee tin instead of into your mug! 

Short Cut #1

How to cut in butter effortlessly and quickly:

Kitchen aid mixer!!  Makes a mess if you turn it on too high, but watch out butter - cause you're about to be cut in K-beater style!

a Special Debate #1

Just for controversial sake, what if I throw out there that none of us are special?

Perhaps we can be special to someone, for a while.  Perhaps we can do something special.  But can we truly be special, in and of ourselves, just by ourselves? 

Again, just for controversial sake, what if I throw out there that the saying, “God made you special, and He loves you very much,” is untrue? 

What if God just made us?  And what if He just loves us?  Do we have to be special to be loved?  Does being loved and being special mean the same thing? 

And, if all of us or just a few of us are special, can that be taken away? What about the fairness of being special?  For one to be special, another has to be ordinary - as indicated by the meaning of the word, “special.” 

Well, what about the saying, “We are all special in our own unique ways.”?  Playing devil’s advocate here; How does that work?  Are we all ordinarily unique?  How is that special?

Summer?? No, just the wet (as oposed to the "really" wet) season.

Summer in the NW is a unique experience. Here are 10 things that summer in the NW gives you which summer in the Mid-West (or any other sunny state) cannot...

1. No need to pull out the summer wardrobe, just keep a couple tanks and pair of shorts in the back of your dresser drawer for the occasional "hot" days

2. No painful sun burns

3. Save money on sprinklers and water toys - just wear your swim suite out doors and you'll find water to splash in, likely falling from the sky.

4. Those amazing jeans that make your butt look fantastic can be worn all summer long!

5. You never have to shave your legs if you really don't want to.  In fact, you may not want to, as here, they will be so white that you'll scare yourself w/o some hair on them...

6.  Sandals are an invention of the native NWerners... why wear soggy shoes when you can let the wetness flow freely? And they can be worn for ALL occasions, even with socks... wet or dry, sandals allow for the truely water-logged feeling.

7. No need to own or borrow a boat, I'm pretty sure you can try water skiing behind your vehicle on these roads...

8. NWerners are so ready for the rain that all the pools are indoors!  No need to slather with greasy sunscreen before taking that dip. 

9. You car gets washed naturally if you leave it in the driveway... several times a day, actually. 

10. You can really go all-natural and get a good shower while participating in outdoor activities such as hiking, camping, biking... the fun doesn't stop out here just because of the rain!  Think of what we all save on our water bill.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

the Centered Woman

Life has been a lot crazy.  As a mommy of 3 precious kids, a wife of a traveling businessman, the daughter of two parents, a parent-in-law and a new step-parent-in-law, a sister to many (both mine and in-laws), a granddaughter, a cousin, and a friend the demands have been many and some pretty intense.  My time seems to vanish before I can turn in a full circle, and at the end of the day I feel spent.

Lately all that has been going on has overshadowed my time alone.  The time when all is quiet, except maybe the dishwasher or washing machine, and I can breathe.  I can think.  I can dream.  I can listen to God.  I can pray.  I can breathe.  When this time is secured in my daily routine I am a content woman, my children are more peaceful, my husband more satisfied, my parents, in-laws, steps, grands, siblings, cousins, friends, all feel less like responsibilities and more like blessings they are.

When this time disappears I start to pull apart at the seems and my skin slowly unravels.  I am prone to playing the comparison game - a deadly, mean and hopeless game that never leaves me unmarred.    I get cranky and impatient.  Guilt overpowers and grace is a ghost in our house.

Two things have the power to overcome this in my life.  The first, other women.  Other mommies who are like-minded and willing to be honest.  Laughter and the reassuring notion that I'm not alone can be miraculous meds.  The second, is discovering that time with God is not imprisoned in time alone, or times of quite, and peace is not a clean house and behaved or napping children.

This became a reality for me when, after a few brief moments of quiet where I had been glancing through a magazine and feeling the weight of how I was so far from measuring up in the eyes of the world represented in those pages, I started to mire down and feel desperate.  I started crying out for help. And, as I started to reflect on the qualities I so desperately need from God, His grace, His mercy, His healing, His gentleness, His faithfulness, His justice, His help...  turned into 3 minutes of thanking Him for who He is.  In that 3 minutes, I was transformed.  I found a little boost of energy.  I found a tiny oasis of patients, even joy, and most needed - self-acceptance.  

In the midst of my personal corner of chaos I have been discovering that I can have a small stream of peace, as I learn how to remember who God is.  As my pleas for help and sanity turn to silent thoughts of thankfulness, I find what I need to get through my day without unraveling.  My life right now is not conducive to getting alone time everyday.  Nor do I have the energy to fight that.  My days for being alone will come all too soon.  But right now I'm learning that time alone isn't as important as time with God.  And time with God is not dependent on my being alone, but just on my willingness to remember Him, to think about Who He is. 

Monday, June 14, 2010

a Little Fuss, a Little Turtle, a BIG Brownie

My day started at 4am... breakfast with hubby/daddy at the airport, a trip to the grocery store at 6am, followed by a chorus of childish voices in melt-down mode when news of changed plans reached little ears...  (I was wishing I could join in too)...

Improvements were made when special guests arrived and made a dangerously dull day fun... but a fussy baby couldn't decide if he wanted to eat, not eat, be held, be put down, play, cuddle, nap, giggle??  We progressed to what was going to be quiet time which quickly turned into more melting down closely followed by a supper of mac&cheese with frozen peas and corn (to cool the mac&cheese, of course), washed down with 3 pieces of birthday candy and a quick trip to the store to pick up a much needed $2 item.  (this, of course, clued me into the fact that next time - the $2 item can WAIT!)

PJ's on, prayers said, big kids in bed... diaper changed, hall walked, baby still awake...  panicked yells of "A turtle is MISSING!"  echo down the stairs.  Yes, yes.  Of course a turtle would be missing right now. And, oh, didn't I hear a mysterious scratching the other night??  Could it be??  A little shove and a little heave-ho revealed a very lethargic and very dry turtle behind my night stand.  3 doors down from the kids' room, where it's tank resides... Sure, why not?

Everyone settle in their bed or tank... including Baby Fuss.  My turn to eat supper, right?  Nope.  A fuse has got to blow... and not just a nice friendly reachable fuse... nope.  A buried one - one I cannot reach.  Well, I cannot microwave the veggies I planned on eating, why not make myself a batch of triple chunk dark chocolate brownies??  The oven still works!

Ahh, but even that plan is foiled by my wonderful brother-in-law, who graciously drives all the way over here to dig out that unfriendly fuse, thus allowing me my veggies.  By now it is not only past supper time, but also past my bed time, and oh, whoops!! WE HAVE A PUPPY!  Right!  He should probably bed fed?  And now it's off to bed... oh, but wait, I did make those brownies... and forgot them on top of the stove.

Now I MUST be tired... I cannot remember the last time I have ever forgotten a batch of brownies - especially ones I myself have made.  Two big ones get piled onto a plate and up the stairs to bed my brownies and I go.

The best part is... I now sit in my bed typing and my brownies?  They have been forgotten yet again, sitting on the sink where I set them in order to brush my teeth.  It has just been that kinda day.