So... people are banning McDonald's from using happy meal toys as a selling tool.
DOES ANYONE ELSE REALIZE THAT THIS IS COMMUNISM??? Has it occurred to anyone that the people who may not buy happy meals without toys will go HOME to eat processed, pre-packaged items anyway? Will the Fruit Loops box need to oust the colorful bird? As a parent who admittedly takes the fast food drive thru lane occasionally, it's not the toys that cause me to put on the brakes. It's the fatigue, the time crunch, or maybe I just like the taste!
I personally am insulted by the insinuation that I'm unable as a parent to make good enough choices for my children, or to handle their protests when I say "no," therefore happy meal toys must be outlawed FOR me. This is America, people. Last I checked, we were FREE to make and sell things, and FREE to choose what to buy and eat. As far as parenting, here's how it works:
Kid says: "Mommy, can we get a happy meal? PLLLEEEEAAASE???"
I've developed an INGENIOUS way to handle this situation. Mom needs only to follow my simple two-step process. I'll let you in on it FOR FREE!
Step 1: Keep foot on the gas pedal and drive past McDonalds.
Step 2: Say "Not today, honey!"
If child protests, repeat steps 1 and 2 and add grounding from possible future trips to McDonalds due to inappropriate begging.
It's NOT THAT HARD!! The people who spent so much cash and worked so hard to pass this ban could have purchased the above mentioned procedure from me at a reasonable cost, published in convenient pamphlet form that they could have dropped en masse over the town of concern. Yet they resort to communism instead. It's unfortunate.
Pardon the rant. Maybe it brought you a chuckle. Trust, dear reader, that whenever I please and deem appropriate, my children and I will HAPPILY enjoy a HAPPY MEAL. May those affected by the ban do the same at their discretion, and may freedom fry the french fries.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
Our Common Life
"Give them wisdom and devotion in the ordering of their common life, that each may be to the other a strength in need, a counselor in perplexity, a comfort in sorrow, and a companion in joy." -- The Book of Common Prayer
I read this quote to my husband the other night as we were ending the day. This quote sums up what I love about our marriage, and what I most want our marriage to be. A few glimpses into our "common life:"
On my birthday, I got a pedicure. My husband drove me to the spa of my choice, and walked me in. He's not the kind of guy who has a whole lot of experience with such places. It was like taking him to another planet! We walked in the door (keep in mind this is a super-nice place) and he immediately grabs his nose and says "Oh my GOD it stinks in here!" I started cracking up. Then he says "It smells like that stuff Mackenzie uses!" (This is proof positive how badly my pedicure was needed, seeing as how he didn't even REALIZE that I own any acetone product at all.) He sat through the toxic fumes, got me all checked in, and didn't even freak out or run away when the spa employee came over to us and said "Two pedicures?" (We were the only two in the waiting area.) He saw me settle in the chair, kissed me goodbye and went to pick up the kids from school.
This afternoon we ran some errands. With kids in tow, our tasks involved getting everyone in and out of the car, stroller, seat belts, etc. There is no verbal exchange, just a smooth operation as if we were only one person. I lay the baby down in the back and a diaper appears in my hand. He buckles the car seat straps and I fold the stroller. I love being part of a team.
On our back patio, there is a bench swing. Dwayne bought it for me for Christmas. That swing is quickly becoming our favorite place to hash things out. Whether it's a disagreement that we are negotiating through, or brainstorming a solution to some difficulty we are facing, or laughing over something crazy that's happened, we can often be found on that swing talking it over.
Last week, we walked a few miles as a family. We set out from the house with the stroller and the kids. Levi scooted ahead on his scooter. Mackenzie kept her own pace as she walked and texted friends simultaneously. Dwayne fell in step beside me. There's something about the way he stands next to me, something about having him beside me that makes everything right with my world.
The other day, he had a day off and helped me with the morning rush to get out the door. Usually he's long gone before the kids wake up, so I do the morning routine on my own. It was nice having him there in the morning. I'm shepherding everyone out the door, making sure no one forgot a lunch or a folder, and checking to see if I have enough diapers in the diaper bag. He stands by the door with the baby in the car seat and I slip my sunglasses on as I step outside. He grins at me and tells me I look like a movie star, and in that moment, with his eyes smiling down at me, I feel like one, too.
Sometimes we argue. We're both pretty strongwilled people and I worry that we're loud enough to wake up the kids. However, sometimes we laugh so much I worry that we're loud enough to wake up the kids.
We've made it through a long distance courtship, a surprising and very dangerous pregnancy, serious financial craziness, moving, figuring out step-parenting, figuring out how to practice our faith together, and there are plenty of other things we're still hammering out. It's all part of our common life... all it's joy, it's laughter, it's fun, it's sadness, it's frustration, it's crazy pace... is ours to share together.
"...a strength in need, a counselor in perplexity, a comfort in sorrow, and a companion in joy." With God's grace we are becoming all these things to each other. There's nothing I want more than just this common life.
I read this quote to my husband the other night as we were ending the day. This quote sums up what I love about our marriage, and what I most want our marriage to be. A few glimpses into our "common life:"
On my birthday, I got a pedicure. My husband drove me to the spa of my choice, and walked me in. He's not the kind of guy who has a whole lot of experience with such places. It was like taking him to another planet! We walked in the door (keep in mind this is a super-nice place) and he immediately grabs his nose and says "Oh my GOD it stinks in here!" I started cracking up. Then he says "It smells like that stuff Mackenzie uses!" (This is proof positive how badly my pedicure was needed, seeing as how he didn't even REALIZE that I own any acetone product at all.) He sat through the toxic fumes, got me all checked in, and didn't even freak out or run away when the spa employee came over to us and said "Two pedicures?" (We were the only two in the waiting area.) He saw me settle in the chair, kissed me goodbye and went to pick up the kids from school.
This afternoon we ran some errands. With kids in tow, our tasks involved getting everyone in and out of the car, stroller, seat belts, etc. There is no verbal exchange, just a smooth operation as if we were only one person. I lay the baby down in the back and a diaper appears in my hand. He buckles the car seat straps and I fold the stroller. I love being part of a team.
On our back patio, there is a bench swing. Dwayne bought it for me for Christmas. That swing is quickly becoming our favorite place to hash things out. Whether it's a disagreement that we are negotiating through, or brainstorming a solution to some difficulty we are facing, or laughing over something crazy that's happened, we can often be found on that swing talking it over.
Last week, we walked a few miles as a family. We set out from the house with the stroller and the kids. Levi scooted ahead on his scooter. Mackenzie kept her own pace as she walked and texted friends simultaneously. Dwayne fell in step beside me. There's something about the way he stands next to me, something about having him beside me that makes everything right with my world.
The other day, he had a day off and helped me with the morning rush to get out the door. Usually he's long gone before the kids wake up, so I do the morning routine on my own. It was nice having him there in the morning. I'm shepherding everyone out the door, making sure no one forgot a lunch or a folder, and checking to see if I have enough diapers in the diaper bag. He stands by the door with the baby in the car seat and I slip my sunglasses on as I step outside. He grins at me and tells me I look like a movie star, and in that moment, with his eyes smiling down at me, I feel like one, too.
Sometimes we argue. We're both pretty strongwilled people and I worry that we're loud enough to wake up the kids. However, sometimes we laugh so much I worry that we're loud enough to wake up the kids.
We've made it through a long distance courtship, a surprising and very dangerous pregnancy, serious financial craziness, moving, figuring out step-parenting, figuring out how to practice our faith together, and there are plenty of other things we're still hammering out. It's all part of our common life... all it's joy, it's laughter, it's fun, it's sadness, it's frustration, it's crazy pace... is ours to share together.
"...a strength in need, a counselor in perplexity, a comfort in sorrow, and a companion in joy." With God's grace we are becoming all these things to each other. There's nothing I want more than just this common life.
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Effective
I walked through the living room at work today. One of our residents stopped me. She's from Cuba and sometimes has difficulty finding the English word that suits what she wants to say.
She took my hand and looked up at me. "You look so... I mean you are so... (gesturing toward my general person) You are always so... EFFECTIVE!"
I'm grinning ear to ear as I write this. Unexpected remarks such as this always make me think. I've been called pretty before, or kind. I get the occasional "You're losing weight, aren't you?" or "Love your hair!" But "You are always so EFFECTIVE." takes the cake. Perhaps it's what she meant, and perhaps she was reaching for something else, but I don't care.
If there's one thing I want to be, it's EFFECTIVE.
This has thoroughly, completely made my day!
She took my hand and looked up at me. "You look so... I mean you are so... (gesturing toward my general person) You are always so... EFFECTIVE!"
I'm grinning ear to ear as I write this. Unexpected remarks such as this always make me think. I've been called pretty before, or kind. I get the occasional "You're losing weight, aren't you?" or "Love your hair!" But "You are always so EFFECTIVE." takes the cake. Perhaps it's what she meant, and perhaps she was reaching for something else, but I don't care.
If there's one thing I want to be, it's EFFECTIVE.
This has thoroughly, completely made my day!
Why I Love Old Ladies
Today, I did a talk for a small group of older women. Since it's Mardi Gras, I thought the appropriate thing to do would be to bring a King Cake to share with the group. So I stopped at LaLouisianne, my personal fave in the King Cake department, and purchased a cream cheese filled masterpiece. This King Cake, unlike some others, has no hole in the middle. It's chock full of gooey cream cheese filling, iced with a creamy white icing and covered in fluffy purple, green, and gold sugar.
(Yes. The sugar is fluffy. It's amazing.)
I was about to begin my talk, and I asked "Shall we talk first and then eat, or eat first and then talk?" The immediate reply was: "Eat first, honey!" Not one to argue with that, I started cutting the cake. I cut large slices, since there were only about 13 in the group and I didn't intend to leave with cake. The room immediately went into action. Soft, wrinkly, yet able hands passed around napkins and cake. Everyone participated in the distribution, and everyone jumped right in on eating her piece. They declared in agreement with me, that this was indeed the BEST King Cake there is.
As they buzzed around the room and exclaimed over the cake, I had an epiphany. I noticed to myself that not ONE person had anything to say about the calorie count of the cake. Nobody said "Oh, not me! I couldn't POSSIBLY have a piece, it's not on my diet!" Nobody said, "I'm too fat to eat that." Nobody even said (my own pet peeve of dessert rejection phrases) "That's TOO SWEET for me!" (preposterous!!!)
These ladies, the youngest in her mid sixties, thoroughly enjoyed the cake AND (so they said) the talk. I thoroughly enjoyed their enjoyment. No pretense. No feigning a lack of desire for the deliciousness of that King Cake. No worries about the waistline or even worse, worries about LOOKING worried about the waistline. (You ladies KNOW what I'm talking about.... and YES I said it out loud.)
This kind of abandon is rare among women my age, and sadly among believers in general. But for that shining moment, they indulged, I enjoyed... and I really believe.....
God smiled.
THAT, my friends, is why I love old ladies.
(Yes. The sugar is fluffy. It's amazing.)
I was about to begin my talk, and I asked "Shall we talk first and then eat, or eat first and then talk?" The immediate reply was: "Eat first, honey!" Not one to argue with that, I started cutting the cake. I cut large slices, since there were only about 13 in the group and I didn't intend to leave with cake. The room immediately went into action. Soft, wrinkly, yet able hands passed around napkins and cake. Everyone participated in the distribution, and everyone jumped right in on eating her piece. They declared in agreement with me, that this was indeed the BEST King Cake there is.
As they buzzed around the room and exclaimed over the cake, I had an epiphany. I noticed to myself that not ONE person had anything to say about the calorie count of the cake. Nobody said "Oh, not me! I couldn't POSSIBLY have a piece, it's not on my diet!" Nobody said, "I'm too fat to eat that." Nobody even said (my own pet peeve of dessert rejection phrases) "That's TOO SWEET for me!" (preposterous!!!)
These ladies, the youngest in her mid sixties, thoroughly enjoyed the cake AND (so they said) the talk. I thoroughly enjoyed their enjoyment. No pretense. No feigning a lack of desire for the deliciousness of that King Cake. No worries about the waistline or even worse, worries about LOOKING worried about the waistline. (You ladies KNOW what I'm talking about.... and YES I said it out loud.)
This kind of abandon is rare among women my age, and sadly among believers in general. But for that shining moment, they indulged, I enjoyed... and I really believe.....
God smiled.
THAT, my friends, is why I love old ladies.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Hello, World
"Sometimes I feel cold as steel
Broken like I'm never gonna heal..."
(from lyric to "Hello World" by Lady Antebellum)
I've promised not to hog my journey. And I meant it.
After my first husband made his exit, I saw a counselor for a while. I loved her and she helped me and the kids immenseley! One of the things she shared with me was about what she called "sneaker waves." Another friend of mine calls them "grief bursts." These are sudden moments of grief and pain that creep up on a person, many times at unexpected moments. I'm glad she warned me about them.
Here's the bottom line: A girl doesn't emerge from 13 years of repeated incidents of infidelity unscathed. That type of repeated emotional damage actually creates some deep and abiding wounds.
Most days I'm ok. Most days I'm great, actually. But every once in a while a symptom emerges that I can't deny. There are voices in my head that tell me terrible lies. Every so often a situation will arise and I am simply unable to cope with it in a healthy way. The voices of self-derision intensify in volume and I feel an all-too-familiar pain in my chest. "You're unwanted, unloved, unattractive. You can't keep a man's interest. Your first husband couldn't be faithful to you and somehow it was your fault. You are talented and smart but that's not enough. You are too damaged. You will not be healthy again."
I'm cornered by the voices and I collapse.
Such a collapse occurred again a few days ago. But this time I did something different. This time I ran TO someone who loves me (two someones, actually. Namely, God and my husband) instead of away. This time I stopped denying the existence of my wounds. I showed them to God. I let my husband see too. Then I asked God to heal them somehow.
"I see a little light, a little faith unfurls....
Hello, world."
Broken like I'm never gonna heal..."
(from lyric to "Hello World" by Lady Antebellum)
I've promised not to hog my journey. And I meant it.
After my first husband made his exit, I saw a counselor for a while. I loved her and she helped me and the kids immenseley! One of the things she shared with me was about what she called "sneaker waves." Another friend of mine calls them "grief bursts." These are sudden moments of grief and pain that creep up on a person, many times at unexpected moments. I'm glad she warned me about them.
Here's the bottom line: A girl doesn't emerge from 13 years of repeated incidents of infidelity unscathed. That type of repeated emotional damage actually creates some deep and abiding wounds.
Most days I'm ok. Most days I'm great, actually. But every once in a while a symptom emerges that I can't deny. There are voices in my head that tell me terrible lies. Every so often a situation will arise and I am simply unable to cope with it in a healthy way. The voices of self-derision intensify in volume and I feel an all-too-familiar pain in my chest. "You're unwanted, unloved, unattractive. You can't keep a man's interest. Your first husband couldn't be faithful to you and somehow it was your fault. You are talented and smart but that's not enough. You are too damaged. You will not be healthy again."
I'm cornered by the voices and I collapse.
Such a collapse occurred again a few days ago. But this time I did something different. This time I ran TO someone who loves me (two someones, actually. Namely, God and my husband) instead of away. This time I stopped denying the existence of my wounds. I showed them to God. I let my husband see too. Then I asked God to heal them somehow.
"I see a little light, a little faith unfurls....
Hello, world."
Friday, February 11, 2011
Twin Skin
I have "twin skin." I've actually had it for years, even though I didn't learn the term until last week when I ran across the site Shape of a Mother. It's interesting to me that I'm nearly 35, and still sometimes struggling with issues pertaining to the general size and shape of my body. Although, it shouldn't surprise me since I work daily with women over the age of 80 who still struggle with the same issues.
I'm thankful for beauty. I see it all over, in the gorgeous hydrangeas my husband bought me for valentine's day, in the eyes of my children, the sky when its blue shouts too loudly to be ignored, in the ocean, all OVER my husband and yes... sometimes I see it in me.
I daily encounter the effects of aging on the body, and in doing so I see that a beautiful person needs much more than physical beauty to remain truly beautiful.
I must remember the fact that my body is merely a vessel. It's a container that houses me and carries me through my time here in the world. Perhaps while I'm in this body, God will use it (and lots of other things) to create a more beautiful me. But the truth is, I'll leave this body behind one day, and whether or not it was beautiful won't matter at all.
In my observation, one can be very beautiful and completely untouchable. I don't think I'd go for that. I'd rather be... ahem... fluffy, and wrinkled and stretch marked, with laugh lines and all... as long as I have people to wrap my flabby arms around! What good is a perfect face without something to smile about? What good is a flat stomach without babies to throw their arms around you?
I've found my body's stretch marks are evidence that my heart can stretch too. The extra padding on my hips is evidence of chocolate fondue nights with my best girlfriends. Those occasional gray hairs that pop up are the result of sorrows and stresses that "season" me.
May my imperfections only serve to welcome someone in. May my "less beautiful" physical qualities be the very thing that draws someone to me when they need a shoulder to cry on, a good homemade molasses cookie, or a flabby-armed hug on a rough day. May the shape of this mother be something that constantly communicates love. Husband-wife love, mommy-baby love, sister-sister love, and most of all, the endless love that flows from a heart that has known the love of God Himself.
Twin skin... I'll take it!
I'm thankful for beauty. I see it all over, in the gorgeous hydrangeas my husband bought me for valentine's day, in the eyes of my children, the sky when its blue shouts too loudly to be ignored, in the ocean, all OVER my husband and yes... sometimes I see it in me.
I daily encounter the effects of aging on the body, and in doing so I see that a beautiful person needs much more than physical beauty to remain truly beautiful.
I must remember the fact that my body is merely a vessel. It's a container that houses me and carries me through my time here in the world. Perhaps while I'm in this body, God will use it (and lots of other things) to create a more beautiful me. But the truth is, I'll leave this body behind one day, and whether or not it was beautiful won't matter at all.
In my observation, one can be very beautiful and completely untouchable. I don't think I'd go for that. I'd rather be... ahem... fluffy, and wrinkled and stretch marked, with laugh lines and all... as long as I have people to wrap my flabby arms around! What good is a perfect face without something to smile about? What good is a flat stomach without babies to throw their arms around you?
I've found my body's stretch marks are evidence that my heart can stretch too. The extra padding on my hips is evidence of chocolate fondue nights with my best girlfriends. Those occasional gray hairs that pop up are the result of sorrows and stresses that "season" me.
May my imperfections only serve to welcome someone in. May my "less beautiful" physical qualities be the very thing that draws someone to me when they need a shoulder to cry on, a good homemade molasses cookie, or a flabby-armed hug on a rough day. May the shape of this mother be something that constantly communicates love. Husband-wife love, mommy-baby love, sister-sister love, and most of all, the endless love that flows from a heart that has known the love of God Himself.
Twin skin... I'll take it!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Journey Hog
I have nowhere near enough time to say everything going on in my head. For now, however, I simply HAVE to bust out these words that have been inspiring me over the past couple of days. I read them in Hoda Kotb's new book.
"Don't hog your journey. It's not just for you... You can take your business, shove it deep in your pockets, and take it to your grave. Or you can help someone. It's your choice."
OK, so if you've been reading this blog for a long time, or if you've known me a long time, you know that the last couple of years I've been a TOTAL journey hog. Perhaps out of a need for privacy, perhaps out of a need to have control over SOMETHING, ANYTHING. For whatever reason, the well of words that is my heart has been covered over and hidden.
I read these words and God said: "You HEAR THAT??? Are you listening to Me?? It's time to stop hogging your journey."
That's what He said. So I don't know how exactly, but I will loosen my grip. I will uncover the well and let whatever's in there spill out. I've definitely backed away from the edge... which I suppose is ok for a time. But I can't continue to live that way.
Here goes...
"Don't hog your journey. It's not just for you... You can take your business, shove it deep in your pockets, and take it to your grave. Or you can help someone. It's your choice."
OK, so if you've been reading this blog for a long time, or if you've known me a long time, you know that the last couple of years I've been a TOTAL journey hog. Perhaps out of a need for privacy, perhaps out of a need to have control over SOMETHING, ANYTHING. For whatever reason, the well of words that is my heart has been covered over and hidden.
I read these words and God said: "You HEAR THAT??? Are you listening to Me?? It's time to stop hogging your journey."
That's what He said. So I don't know how exactly, but I will loosen my grip. I will uncover the well and let whatever's in there spill out. I've definitely backed away from the edge... which I suppose is ok for a time. But I can't continue to live that way.
Here goes...
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Bubbly Flowery Cure
So lately I've been thinking about dealing with stress. Specifically my own need to strategize in that area. Last night I discovered something I already knew but had completely forgotten:
A few moments alone, spent purposely on regrouping and refocusing, are a GREAT cure for stress for me.
My awesome husband handed me the opportunity last night, in the form of a bubble bath (rose petals included) and half an hour alone. I soaked and wrote in my journal. Picking up the journaling habit again is my number one new year's resolution. I had had a particularly stressful day, and I was surprised by how much difference it made to spend some quiet moments and purposely refocus. Of course you might think "Who wouldn't feel better after a rose petal bubble bath?" And you're right. However, normally I might lie there and let my mind do what my mama would call "stew" over the stressors in my life. But not last night. I grabbed my journal, and purposely spent the quiet time alone reorganizing my thoughts, reminding myself of what's important, and recognizing my blessings.
So... I'm thinking this should be something I begin to practice daily. Perhaps not ALWAYS with the bubbles and roses, but even without those, I can still have some focused quiet. This I need. I always have, but I forgot. Do you ever do that? Somehow think you magically no longer need something even when it helps you immensely? I suppose in the busy-ness of life, we are forced to cut corners, and often the first things to go should have been saved and preserved as the last things to ever abandon.
Just some thoughts...
A few moments alone, spent purposely on regrouping and refocusing, are a GREAT cure for stress for me.
My awesome husband handed me the opportunity last night, in the form of a bubble bath (rose petals included) and half an hour alone. I soaked and wrote in my journal. Picking up the journaling habit again is my number one new year's resolution. I had had a particularly stressful day, and I was surprised by how much difference it made to spend some quiet moments and purposely refocus. Of course you might think "Who wouldn't feel better after a rose petal bubble bath?" And you're right. However, normally I might lie there and let my mind do what my mama would call "stew" over the stressors in my life. But not last night. I grabbed my journal, and purposely spent the quiet time alone reorganizing my thoughts, reminding myself of what's important, and recognizing my blessings.
So... I'm thinking this should be something I begin to practice daily. Perhaps not ALWAYS with the bubbles and roses, but even without those, I can still have some focused quiet. This I need. I always have, but I forgot. Do you ever do that? Somehow think you magically no longer need something even when it helps you immensely? I suppose in the busy-ness of life, we are forced to cut corners, and often the first things to go should have been saved and preserved as the last things to ever abandon.
Just some thoughts...
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Perspective
This morning as Levi was getting out of the car for school, we had this conversation:
Me: "You are the best little boy I know."
Levi: "And you are the best BIG mom that I know."
I chuckled a little and cringed a little at the idea of being called a BIG mom.
Levi: (Flashing his signature grin and irresistible charm) "Good thing I didn't say 'little mom'!"
For a boy who can't wait to be big, calling me a little mom is something he'd never do! What sounded at first like a childish faux pas, was actually a high compliment from my Levi. I suppose it all depends upon the perspective. I'd do well to remember that in pretty much every other area of my life.
So today I'm proud to be a BIG mom, and to have once again been reminded of one of life's important lessons by a little guy who didn't even know he was schooling me.
Me: "You are the best little boy I know."
Levi: "And you are the best BIG mom that I know."
I chuckled a little and cringed a little at the idea of being called a BIG mom.
Levi: (Flashing his signature grin and irresistible charm) "Good thing I didn't say 'little mom'!"
For a boy who can't wait to be big, calling me a little mom is something he'd never do! What sounded at first like a childish faux pas, was actually a high compliment from my Levi. I suppose it all depends upon the perspective. I'd do well to remember that in pretty much every other area of my life.
So today I'm proud to be a BIG mom, and to have once again been reminded of one of life's important lessons by a little guy who didn't even know he was schooling me.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Go Play
Twas the day after Christmas, and in New Orleans,
My family and I awoke from sweet dreams.
A mommy, a daddy, a sister, two brothers,
All happy just to be with one another.
We had a great Christmas and I just want to say...
I hope you did too! Now I'm gonna go PLAY!!
Hee hee! Seriously. I officially have my own Wii character now. I'm gonna go play.
My family and I awoke from sweet dreams.
A mommy, a daddy, a sister, two brothers,
All happy just to be with one another.
We had a great Christmas and I just want to say...
I hope you did too! Now I'm gonna go PLAY!!
Hee hee! Seriously. I officially have my own Wii character now. I'm gonna go play.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Christmas Eve Eve
It's Christmas Eve Eve. Tonight I am making a decision. I've decided to rise above the exhausted mommy fog, clear the no-sleep-for-over-a-year haze, shake off the mental and emotional cramps that come with juggling mommyhood, marriage, career, home, and life for an extended period of time. The Christmas Celebration at our house has officially begun.
All stress set aside, all duties can wait. All worries are on the back burner. Christmas is here, I'm off for the weekend, and my family and I are going to treasure every moment!!
Here we go!
All stress set aside, all duties can wait. All worries are on the back burner. Christmas is here, I'm off for the weekend, and my family and I are going to treasure every moment!!
Here we go!
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Inclusion Illusion
I've been reflecting on my own need to be included. I've been thinking about this need and how it affects my self confidence, my ability to adapt socially, and most of all, the practice of my faith.
As I've mentioned, my husband and I have chosen to practice our faith in a very organic way, through a house church. This avenue works well for us, since we come from vastly different religious backgrounds. All our "traditions" are kind of stripped away, and we focus on the important things: you know... Jesus, Him being the Son of God, the Way, the Truth, the Life. That kind of stuff.
Anyway, by choosing to practice my faith outside the traditional church building, (notice I did NOT say outside the church), I'm left without something I had no idea I had relied so heavily upon: The approval of men. I don't mean men in general. I mean people who run the traditional church building. I had, I now know, become very accustomed to hearing, perceiving, and basking in the approval and/or praise of other church members, especially leaders. I relied upon this approval and the myriad of duties and responsibilities that came along with it in order to feel "included." Thus, being passed over for a leadership opportunity, even one I didn't have time for, or being frowned upon for a personal decision meant I was not included, or at least not AS included as I could or should have been. This translated into hurt feelings, lower self esteem, and even envy of those who had more "inclusion" than I, even though their lives were less "fit" by most standards.
I've been pondering a great deal on the idea that meeting my need for inclusion this way has perhaps paralyzed me spiritually. I wouldn't call myself a spiritual invalid. Not by any means. But I have to wonder if looking to the church leaders for inclusion has numbed me in some places. I have to wonder if a great deal of church members are paralyzed in a similar way.
It occurs to me that looking to a human to place a stamp of approval upon my life and my spiritual maturity as he or she perceives it, is a bit of a slap in Jesus' face. He paid such a high, high price to declare me INCLUDED in his family once and for all. He gave his life so that I could have God's approval. Why then, do I need the approval of other humans in addition to the glorious gift He gave me?
Why have I wasted my time trying to earn the favor of church leaders, especially even after becoming very acquainted with the corruptness of such leaders? Why have I looked to another human to tell me what God wants me to do? Why have I allowed other people to make up rules that limit God's ability to work in me and with me? Where might I be now if I had spent as much time exploring what GOD truly made me to be and do rather than worrying about if I were in my proper place according to the opinion of church leaders? I don't mean where, as in perhaps I would be more "accomplished." Since I also am sickened at the time I spent trying to "move up" in the circles of a denomination, when most of such movement is based solely on politics. I mean where, as in would I be closer to God had I simply learned to cling to Him alone?
I return again to a thought. A truth, really. God Himself, through His only Son, Jesus, declared me INCLUDED. He declared me precious, worthy, righteous, and one of His very own children. I AM included. Now and forever. This is the truth I will teach to our children, and pass along to those He brings my way. Goodbye to days of stunted spiritual growth due to restraints placed upon me by the ideas of men. Hello to days of letting God lead me and show me. I no longer need the illusion of inclusion. I have the real deal, straight from God.
Guess what?? YOU DO TOO!!!
As I've mentioned, my husband and I have chosen to practice our faith in a very organic way, through a house church. This avenue works well for us, since we come from vastly different religious backgrounds. All our "traditions" are kind of stripped away, and we focus on the important things: you know... Jesus, Him being the Son of God, the Way, the Truth, the Life. That kind of stuff.
Anyway, by choosing to practice my faith outside the traditional church building, (notice I did NOT say outside the church), I'm left without something I had no idea I had relied so heavily upon: The approval of men. I don't mean men in general. I mean people who run the traditional church building. I had, I now know, become very accustomed to hearing, perceiving, and basking in the approval and/or praise of other church members, especially leaders. I relied upon this approval and the myriad of duties and responsibilities that came along with it in order to feel "included." Thus, being passed over for a leadership opportunity, even one I didn't have time for, or being frowned upon for a personal decision meant I was not included, or at least not AS included as I could or should have been. This translated into hurt feelings, lower self esteem, and even envy of those who had more "inclusion" than I, even though their lives were less "fit" by most standards.
I've been pondering a great deal on the idea that meeting my need for inclusion this way has perhaps paralyzed me spiritually. I wouldn't call myself a spiritual invalid. Not by any means. But I have to wonder if looking to the church leaders for inclusion has numbed me in some places. I have to wonder if a great deal of church members are paralyzed in a similar way.
It occurs to me that looking to a human to place a stamp of approval upon my life and my spiritual maturity as he or she perceives it, is a bit of a slap in Jesus' face. He paid such a high, high price to declare me INCLUDED in his family once and for all. He gave his life so that I could have God's approval. Why then, do I need the approval of other humans in addition to the glorious gift He gave me?
Why have I wasted my time trying to earn the favor of church leaders, especially even after becoming very acquainted with the corruptness of such leaders? Why have I looked to another human to tell me what God wants me to do? Why have I allowed other people to make up rules that limit God's ability to work in me and with me? Where might I be now if I had spent as much time exploring what GOD truly made me to be and do rather than worrying about if I were in my proper place according to the opinion of church leaders? I don't mean where, as in perhaps I would be more "accomplished." Since I also am sickened at the time I spent trying to "move up" in the circles of a denomination, when most of such movement is based solely on politics. I mean where, as in would I be closer to God had I simply learned to cling to Him alone?
I return again to a thought. A truth, really. God Himself, through His only Son, Jesus, declared me INCLUDED. He declared me precious, worthy, righteous, and one of His very own children. I AM included. Now and forever. This is the truth I will teach to our children, and pass along to those He brings my way. Goodbye to days of stunted spiritual growth due to restraints placed upon me by the ideas of men. Hello to days of letting God lead me and show me. I no longer need the illusion of inclusion. I have the real deal, straight from God.
Guess what?? YOU DO TOO!!!
Monday, December 06, 2010
A Letter to my TEENAGER
Dear Teenager,
I can't believe you are thirteen years old. We both sure have come a long way! Just 21 when you were born, I gotta tell you, I had NO IDEA what I was doing. You were my first baby, and now you are my first teenager. And guess what... I'm still not sure I know what I'm doing.
I know I've messed up on some things. I wish I had let you believe in Santa. I wish I had been a little more fun and a little less worried about getting everything right. I wish things with me and your dad hadn't meant you had to deal with grown-up stuff sooner than you should have. I wish we hadn't had to move so many times and I could have given you a childhood home to always remember.
But there are some things I'm happy about. Remember when we had "the talk?" You wer SOOOOO embarrassed and so was I, but we did it! It was the first of many embarrassing talks for us both, but we're still talkin'! Remember when you first saw your baby brother Levi? We got you a baby boy doll and you and I took care of our "babies" together. I remember one time you were in a musical at church. You came down the aisle with the rest of the kids and you were so happy and excited. I realized then that seeing you happy is just about the most amazing experience I get to have. Remember homemade waffles on Saturday mornings? Remember playing in the rain on Upstream Street and splashing like crazy in the puddles? Remember "Soap skating?" Remember when you had to be in the hospital? I would have given anything to get you better. Remember your second grade year that we homeschooled? I loved all our fun field trips, and getting to teach you myself. Remember how we had to get through Hurricane Katrina together? Remember "WINN DIXIE!!!"?? I love hearing you laugh. I'm glad we spent time with your Granny Great, and even though you might not remember it all, you got to know her and she got to know you.
You were the most beautiful baby in the world. You were the most adorable little girl ever. Your smile and your laugh could keep me going for days. When you were born I was scared to death. I had this little person and any mistake I made might hurt her for life!! I didn't want to make ANY mistakes.
We were inseparable for the first couple of years of your life. We did just about everything and went just about everywhere together. I wanted so much to be a good mommy. These days you are almost as tall as me. We don't shop in the children's department anymore, and your bedroom door is closed more often than it's open. Some days I'm scared that there are some things you may never learn if I haven't taught them to you by now. Some days I'm scared that since I DO make some mistakes you might be hurt forever.
Then I realize that you are becoming a wonderful young lady in spite of my mess-ups. You are an amazing person because GOD made you that way,and my silly mistakes can't undo HIS great work in you. I'm SO proud of who you are, and so excited about who you will be.
I used to rock you to sleep every night, but can't rock you anymore. I'm rocking your baby brother, Caleb, while you are texting or talking on your phone in your room. I'm learning to be a more grown-up mom to a more grown-up girl. We still have a long way to go together and I know we might have some tough times ahead. But we'll get through that too, just like the tough times we've put behind us.
You were my "Christmas present from God." You still are. You always will be.
Happy Birthday, my Mackenzie!!
Love,
Mommy
I can't believe you are thirteen years old. We both sure have come a long way! Just 21 when you were born, I gotta tell you, I had NO IDEA what I was doing. You were my first baby, and now you are my first teenager. And guess what... I'm still not sure I know what I'm doing.
I know I've messed up on some things. I wish I had let you believe in Santa. I wish I had been a little more fun and a little less worried about getting everything right. I wish things with me and your dad hadn't meant you had to deal with grown-up stuff sooner than you should have. I wish we hadn't had to move so many times and I could have given you a childhood home to always remember.
But there are some things I'm happy about. Remember when we had "the talk?" You wer SOOOOO embarrassed and so was I, but we did it! It was the first of many embarrassing talks for us both, but we're still talkin'! Remember when you first saw your baby brother Levi? We got you a baby boy doll and you and I took care of our "babies" together. I remember one time you were in a musical at church. You came down the aisle with the rest of the kids and you were so happy and excited. I realized then that seeing you happy is just about the most amazing experience I get to have. Remember homemade waffles on Saturday mornings? Remember playing in the rain on Upstream Street and splashing like crazy in the puddles? Remember "Soap skating?" Remember when you had to be in the hospital? I would have given anything to get you better. Remember your second grade year that we homeschooled? I loved all our fun field trips, and getting to teach you myself. Remember how we had to get through Hurricane Katrina together? Remember "WINN DIXIE!!!"?? I love hearing you laugh. I'm glad we spent time with your Granny Great, and even though you might not remember it all, you got to know her and she got to know you.
You were the most beautiful baby in the world. You were the most adorable little girl ever. Your smile and your laugh could keep me going for days. When you were born I was scared to death. I had this little person and any mistake I made might hurt her for life!! I didn't want to make ANY mistakes.
We were inseparable for the first couple of years of your life. We did just about everything and went just about everywhere together. I wanted so much to be a good mommy. These days you are almost as tall as me. We don't shop in the children's department anymore, and your bedroom door is closed more often than it's open. Some days I'm scared that there are some things you may never learn if I haven't taught them to you by now. Some days I'm scared that since I DO make some mistakes you might be hurt forever.
Then I realize that you are becoming a wonderful young lady in spite of my mess-ups. You are an amazing person because GOD made you that way,and my silly mistakes can't undo HIS great work in you. I'm SO proud of who you are, and so excited about who you will be.
I used to rock you to sleep every night, but can't rock you anymore. I'm rocking your baby brother, Caleb, while you are texting or talking on your phone in your room. I'm learning to be a more grown-up mom to a more grown-up girl. We still have a long way to go together and I know we might have some tough times ahead. But we'll get through that too, just like the tough times we've put behind us.
You were my "Christmas present from God." You still are. You always will be.
Happy Birthday, my Mackenzie!!
Love,
Mommy
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
Eatin' Healthy
It's official. The kids and I decided on the way to school this morning. Here's how it went down:
Me: (Handing the kids their on-the-run breakfast of chocolate muffins) "It's not exactly a nutritious breakfast, but it IS a delicious one!"
Kids: Yeah!
Levi: Wellllll... I think chocolate is healthy. I mean it has milk in it, right?
Mackenzie: Yeah, and it comes from a plant.
Me: Well you're right. Chocolate's practically a VEGETABLE!!!
We all laughed like crazy and it was unanimous! Eatin' chocolate IS eatin' healthy!!
Any kid of mine has a sweet tooth inherited directly from me. And now that chocolate is a healthy food... well...
Hee hee! Maybe I won't get mother of the year for this morning's breakfast, but it was SO worth the moment of crazy laughter with my awesome children. Even my little one-toothed guy was giggling! I'll be treasuring that moment all day.
Me: (Handing the kids their on-the-run breakfast of chocolate muffins) "It's not exactly a nutritious breakfast, but it IS a delicious one!"
Kids: Yeah!
Levi: Wellllll... I think chocolate is healthy. I mean it has milk in it, right?
Mackenzie: Yeah, and it comes from a plant.
Me: Well you're right. Chocolate's practically a VEGETABLE!!!
We all laughed like crazy and it was unanimous! Eatin' chocolate IS eatin' healthy!!
Any kid of mine has a sweet tooth inherited directly from me. And now that chocolate is a healthy food... well...
Hee hee! Maybe I won't get mother of the year for this morning's breakfast, but it was SO worth the moment of crazy laughter with my awesome children. Even my little one-toothed guy was giggling! I'll be treasuring that moment all day.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Kickoff
I have a few quiet moments this morning. The last few, I'm sure, until after Thanksgiving festivities and the trip to pick up my big kids.
It occurs to me that Thanksgiving is the perfect kickoff to the holiday season. Who is there to thank but God? The day of thanksgiving to Him kind of calls my attention to His work in my life and begins a time of reflection upon what He has done for us all by sending His son, the birth we celebrate at Christmas.
So this year, I'm determined to see Thanksgiving as simply the beginning of a season of celebrating God's blessings to me. Our Thanksgiving day will be full of commotion, food, laughter, noise, and fun...and of course Saints football. And I will celebrate the way God has lavished me with wonderful people, beautiful babies, happy moments, an amazing family, and so much more. I'll kick it off on Thanksgiving day with a bang and continue to celebrate throughout the holidays.
I have so much joy, how can it all be properly celebrated in one day alone, or even two? It deserves a month or more, and so it will be.
Amen.
It occurs to me that Thanksgiving is the perfect kickoff to the holiday season. Who is there to thank but God? The day of thanksgiving to Him kind of calls my attention to His work in my life and begins a time of reflection upon what He has done for us all by sending His son, the birth we celebrate at Christmas.
So this year, I'm determined to see Thanksgiving as simply the beginning of a season of celebrating God's blessings to me. Our Thanksgiving day will be full of commotion, food, laughter, noise, and fun...and of course Saints football. And I will celebrate the way God has lavished me with wonderful people, beautiful babies, happy moments, an amazing family, and so much more. I'll kick it off on Thanksgiving day with a bang and continue to celebrate throughout the holidays.
I have so much joy, how can it all be properly celebrated in one day alone, or even two? It deserves a month or more, and so it will be.
Amen.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Letting Go
After a lot of thought and consideration, the choice was made to open my hands and open my heart and let it go. As of now, I no longer play keys at Riverside. I've learned so much there. I've learned that real love is possible, grace is for all of us, and that sometimes God's people DO come through. I've also learned that sometimes it's just plain time to let go. I'm learning that sometimes it's just plain ok to let go and walk away, regardless of what people think or whether the true situation will come to light or whether everyone will know my side of the story. Not always, mind you. There are times and places to stand firm no matter what may come. But there are times when the best thing for all involved is to release things before they become a total heartbreak. I let go of wanting everyone to think I'm right.
I let go of something today. It's something that was once precious to me, and I've long wrestled with the guilt of not enjoying it as much as I once did. I've long wondered what's wrong with me and what to do about it. It's grown into one big sticky emotional tangle in my life. And today I let it go. No more trying to untangle the strings. No more trying to make myself fit in a place where I don't fit anymore. I let go of my need to fit in.
I had a LOT to say about it. I had plenty of feelings to express. I wrote them in a long email and then deleted the whole thing. I realized that voicing my feelings would not bring a result and it would be more painful to communicate those feelings and then realize... nobody cared, than it would be to leave them unsaid. So I let go of what I had to say. And it's interesting how those negative feelings didn't really see the need to stick around once I let go of them.
And so I say only a fond farewell to my Riverside family. To those of you who know me, you know it's also a farewell to the last bit of a tattered and torn security blanket of all I once knew and believed about following God. I let go of my need for other people to approve of the way I worship. Perhaps now I'm ready to really worship for the first time in a long time.
Now I'm following God to entirely new places and it's good. He's taking me even further out to the edge, and, breathing freer and moving faster due to my lighter load, I'm ready.
I let go of something today. It's something that was once precious to me, and I've long wrestled with the guilt of not enjoying it as much as I once did. I've long wondered what's wrong with me and what to do about it. It's grown into one big sticky emotional tangle in my life. And today I let it go. No more trying to untangle the strings. No more trying to make myself fit in a place where I don't fit anymore. I let go of my need to fit in.
I had a LOT to say about it. I had plenty of feelings to express. I wrote them in a long email and then deleted the whole thing. I realized that voicing my feelings would not bring a result and it would be more painful to communicate those feelings and then realize... nobody cared, than it would be to leave them unsaid. So I let go of what I had to say. And it's interesting how those negative feelings didn't really see the need to stick around once I let go of them.
And so I say only a fond farewell to my Riverside family. To those of you who know me, you know it's also a farewell to the last bit of a tattered and torn security blanket of all I once knew and believed about following God. I let go of my need for other people to approve of the way I worship. Perhaps now I'm ready to really worship for the first time in a long time.
Now I'm following God to entirely new places and it's good. He's taking me even further out to the edge, and, breathing freer and moving faster due to my lighter load, I'm ready.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
All His
This is my Father's World
Oh let me ne'er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong
God is the ruler yet.
Sometimes the wrong does indeed seem so very strong. Sometimes it's easy to get so irritated by the inconsiderate people in life, especially ones I feel should know better. Sometimes it's easy to focus on the disappointments, the heartbreaks, the stresses in life. Sometimes I forget whose world this really is after all.
It's my Father's world. It's His. It' doesn't belong to the people who hurt me. It doesn't belong to the rat race and its delirium. It doesn't belong to the tragedies, the evils, the stressors. It belongs to the One who loves me and my family and gave His life to buy my freedom. It belongs to my Father... it's all His and He's going to have the final say.
That's a peaceful thought in the middle of my crazy life. Wanted to share it with you.
Oh let me ne'er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong
God is the ruler yet.
Sometimes the wrong does indeed seem so very strong. Sometimes it's easy to get so irritated by the inconsiderate people in life, especially ones I feel should know better. Sometimes it's easy to focus on the disappointments, the heartbreaks, the stresses in life. Sometimes I forget whose world this really is after all.
It's my Father's world. It's His. It' doesn't belong to the people who hurt me. It doesn't belong to the rat race and its delirium. It doesn't belong to the tragedies, the evils, the stressors. It belongs to the One who loves me and my family and gave His life to buy my freedom. It belongs to my Father... it's all His and He's going to have the final say.
That's a peaceful thought in the middle of my crazy life. Wanted to share it with you.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Veteran's Day
It's Veteran's Day, a special day at St. Francis Villa Assisted Living. It always makes me kind of emotional to think of it. I spend each day in the company of several veterans of World War II, a brave group of individuals, living historians who are fast disappearing from our country.
I wrote a little diddy for our ceremony today and thought I'd share it here too...
Hope you enjoy it, and find time to honor a veteran today.
On Veteran’s day we pause a while to think of those who died
We honor those who worked so hard, our freedom to provide
We tell the stories once again of soldiers brave and true
We think of those they left at home, the trials they went through
In times like these our hearts are heavy with the loss we feel
But then in spite of heaviness, hope rises true and real
We celebrate the courage had that no war could destroy
Each time we throw back our heads and laugh with freedom’s joy
Our very way of life each day gives merit to the fact
That our soldiers are the ones who keep our freedom here intact.
We pray, we vote, we work our jobs, we stand up for our rights
All because of work well done by those who had to fight.
In sounds of children laughing, even shouts of strong debate
We hear echoes of freedom soldiers gave all to create.
So out of sadness we will rise to celebrate and live
Lives that treasure freedom that our soldiers died to give.
By Rebecca Jeffries-Hyman
I wrote a little diddy for our ceremony today and thought I'd share it here too...
Hope you enjoy it, and find time to honor a veteran today.
On Veteran’s day we pause a while to think of those who died
We honor those who worked so hard, our freedom to provide
We tell the stories once again of soldiers brave and true
We think of those they left at home, the trials they went through
In times like these our hearts are heavy with the loss we feel
But then in spite of heaviness, hope rises true and real
We celebrate the courage had that no war could destroy
Each time we throw back our heads and laugh with freedom’s joy
Our very way of life each day gives merit to the fact
That our soldiers are the ones who keep our freedom here intact.
We pray, we vote, we work our jobs, we stand up for our rights
All because of work well done by those who had to fight.
In sounds of children laughing, even shouts of strong debate
We hear echoes of freedom soldiers gave all to create.
So out of sadness we will rise to celebrate and live
Lives that treasure freedom that our soldiers died to give.
By Rebecca Jeffries-Hyman
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Re-groups and Rewards
OK, so I couldn't let the Devil's Jukebox be the last word. Not that I've sorted it all out or anything. I have come to one small conclusion. I see my over-obsessing drive for perfection as just one more flaw and obstacle to overcome in my quest for perfection. Wanting too much to be perfect is something else to work on that keeps me from being perfect.
Is that sick or what?
Other than that, I've simply had to table this. Some tangled emotional messes just can't be untangled all at once. Sometimes like a jigsaw puzzle, you just have to come back to it later and you'll see it differently and maybe find a piece that fits.
So in the meantime...
My big boy is EIGHT! Can you believe it?? We had a marvelous time at Chuck E Cheese after all. Levi continues to be an absolute joy to be around. He's INEFFABLE in his charm, his wit, and his zest for life. I love that kid. One of my favorite glimpses into his heart as of late:
Levi (in the car on the way to Chic Fil A for lunch on Saturday): "What's Caleb gonna eat there?"
Me: "Well, I brought him some baby food."
Levi: "What if he's still hungry and wants something else?"
Me: "Well, I guess I could find a little something there he could eat. Maybe they'll have applesauce or something."
Levi: "Mom, when YOU eat does it make more milk?" (taps me on the arm to make sure I know he's talking about my body's milk making processes)
Me: "Ummm Yes, when I eat, my body uses the vitamins to make the milk for Caleb."
Levi: "So maybe you could go and get charged up on the chicken and then if he's still hungry you can feed him some milk."
And that settles that. I did indeed get charged up on the chicken by the way!
Can't stay down for long when God has blessed me in this way. If children are a reward from Him, then He has chosen to reward me indeed.
Is that sick or what?
Other than that, I've simply had to table this. Some tangled emotional messes just can't be untangled all at once. Sometimes like a jigsaw puzzle, you just have to come back to it later and you'll see it differently and maybe find a piece that fits.
So in the meantime...
My big boy is EIGHT! Can you believe it?? We had a marvelous time at Chuck E Cheese after all. Levi continues to be an absolute joy to be around. He's INEFFABLE in his charm, his wit, and his zest for life. I love that kid. One of my favorite glimpses into his heart as of late:
Levi (in the car on the way to Chic Fil A for lunch on Saturday): "What's Caleb gonna eat there?"
Me: "Well, I brought him some baby food."
Levi: "What if he's still hungry and wants something else?"
Me: "Well, I guess I could find a little something there he could eat. Maybe they'll have applesauce or something."
Levi: "Mom, when YOU eat does it make more milk?" (taps me on the arm to make sure I know he's talking about my body's milk making processes)
Me: "Ummm Yes, when I eat, my body uses the vitamins to make the milk for Caleb."
Levi: "So maybe you could go and get charged up on the chicken and then if he's still hungry you can feed him some milk."
And that settles that. I did indeed get charged up on the chicken by the way!
Can't stay down for long when God has blessed me in this way. If children are a reward from Him, then He has chosen to reward me indeed.
Monday, November 01, 2010
The Devil's Jukebox
I have a nail in my tire. The front passenger side. Don't know where I picked it up, but it's glaring and obvious, it even has a green circle-ey thing around the head of the nail. So I'm riding around with a green circle nailed into my tire.
This morning I sent my son to school without his book report. Again. It was due Friday and he and I completed it and left it on the table where it remained as we departed for school Friday morning. This morning I did it again, left it right there waiting to be placed in a backpack and turned in. What is wrong with me?
This morning I also fed my kids bananas and Little Debbie cakes for breakfast. In the car. We were running late, no time even for cereal. I only had one granola bar, but I had three bananas and two Little Debbie cakes. And bottled water. I did make them eat the bananas first.
My baby slept nearly two hours past his wake up time on Sunday morning. Instead of relishing the extra sleep, I stressed about what could be going wrong to make him sleep so much. He's overdue for immunizations and could be contracting some dread disease. So when am I going to take off work and take him in for shots?
My big boy's birthday is tomorrow. I have cupcakes ready for his class, but I never called his teacher to tell her. I hope she lets them have the cupcakes. I attempted the call several times, only to be thwarted by some urgent thing or another. So the call never got completed. He's going to be eight. I haven't planned a big party with cute invitations and treat bags of junk for all his friends. I never can seem to pull that off. It's just going to be us and Chuck E Cheese. He really wants Chuck E Cheese and since there are no treat bags and friends for a party, Chuck E will have to do the job. I'm not going to think about the mom who gave out hand made halloween themed burp cloths to everyone at the daycare. But I bet she'd have treat bags of junk and 20 kids at the party.
I printed a newsletter at work. I went against my gut and my better judgement and chose the cheaper company to print it. And I hate how it looks. It's well written but looks terrible. Why didn't I listen to my instinct and go with the other company? I saved a hundred bucks but my newsletter looks crappy.
I have only one bottle of milk for the baby for tomorrow. I can't seem to figure out the right amount of milk and right pumping schedule to be able to keep extra milk on hand. I try to pump at night but for some reason my body refuses to let the milk go. And mostly I'm too tired.
Plus I have a nail in my tire. Did I tell you about that? I'm driving three kids around in a car with a nail in the tire.
This blog is horrible and terribly negative. You are probably alarmed at its tone. I like to think I'm an upbeat person, generally happy, with a positive outlook. Yet the preceding litany of condemnation is precisely the way I speak to myself. It's the playlist in my head. The devil's jukebox selections and he never seems to run out of quarters.
I have to wonder if my constant barrage of self inflicted condemnation has an effect on my mood. Ya THINK? But how do I stop? The bottom line is, I want to be better. I want to host cool, fun birthdays for my kids. I want to feed them nutritious breakfasts, hot ones, with time to digest before we lurch toward school. I want more milk than Kleinpeter Dairy, and I feel like if I fed my baby better (more milk?) maybe he would be... what? Bigger? fatter? healthier? He's healthy and happy, just like my other two are. See, I don't even know what I want. But I still can't let myself off the hook. I just said I want to be better, but the truth is, I have an unrealistic desire to be PERFECT.
Maybe every mom has it, maybe I'm one of the few, the proud, the insane enough to admit it. Or maybe I just have issues with perfectionism. I don't know and even this moment I resist the urge to resolve this post with a happy little ending, all tied in a bow. I don't know what to do, and I'm tired of wearing myself out. I desperately want to let it all go, but have no idea how to let it all go without... well, letting it all go, if you know what I mean.
Somebody pray for me. My joy is buried somewhere in this pile of thoughts and worries. Tomorrow's a new day, and will bring new mercies, I know. But tonight is looking like sack cloth and ashes.
And there's a nail in my tire.
This morning I sent my son to school without his book report. Again. It was due Friday and he and I completed it and left it on the table where it remained as we departed for school Friday morning. This morning I did it again, left it right there waiting to be placed in a backpack and turned in. What is wrong with me?
This morning I also fed my kids bananas and Little Debbie cakes for breakfast. In the car. We were running late, no time even for cereal. I only had one granola bar, but I had three bananas and two Little Debbie cakes. And bottled water. I did make them eat the bananas first.
My baby slept nearly two hours past his wake up time on Sunday morning. Instead of relishing the extra sleep, I stressed about what could be going wrong to make him sleep so much. He's overdue for immunizations and could be contracting some dread disease. So when am I going to take off work and take him in for shots?
My big boy's birthday is tomorrow. I have cupcakes ready for his class, but I never called his teacher to tell her. I hope she lets them have the cupcakes. I attempted the call several times, only to be thwarted by some urgent thing or another. So the call never got completed. He's going to be eight. I haven't planned a big party with cute invitations and treat bags of junk for all his friends. I never can seem to pull that off. It's just going to be us and Chuck E Cheese. He really wants Chuck E Cheese and since there are no treat bags and friends for a party, Chuck E will have to do the job. I'm not going to think about the mom who gave out hand made halloween themed burp cloths to everyone at the daycare. But I bet she'd have treat bags of junk and 20 kids at the party.
I printed a newsletter at work. I went against my gut and my better judgement and chose the cheaper company to print it. And I hate how it looks. It's well written but looks terrible. Why didn't I listen to my instinct and go with the other company? I saved a hundred bucks but my newsletter looks crappy.
I have only one bottle of milk for the baby for tomorrow. I can't seem to figure out the right amount of milk and right pumping schedule to be able to keep extra milk on hand. I try to pump at night but for some reason my body refuses to let the milk go. And mostly I'm too tired.
Plus I have a nail in my tire. Did I tell you about that? I'm driving three kids around in a car with a nail in the tire.
This blog is horrible and terribly negative. You are probably alarmed at its tone. I like to think I'm an upbeat person, generally happy, with a positive outlook. Yet the preceding litany of condemnation is precisely the way I speak to myself. It's the playlist in my head. The devil's jukebox selections and he never seems to run out of quarters.
I have to wonder if my constant barrage of self inflicted condemnation has an effect on my mood. Ya THINK? But how do I stop? The bottom line is, I want to be better. I want to host cool, fun birthdays for my kids. I want to feed them nutritious breakfasts, hot ones, with time to digest before we lurch toward school. I want more milk than Kleinpeter Dairy, and I feel like if I fed my baby better (more milk?) maybe he would be... what? Bigger? fatter? healthier? He's healthy and happy, just like my other two are. See, I don't even know what I want. But I still can't let myself off the hook. I just said I want to be better, but the truth is, I have an unrealistic desire to be PERFECT.
Maybe every mom has it, maybe I'm one of the few, the proud, the insane enough to admit it. Or maybe I just have issues with perfectionism. I don't know and even this moment I resist the urge to resolve this post with a happy little ending, all tied in a bow. I don't know what to do, and I'm tired of wearing myself out. I desperately want to let it all go, but have no idea how to let it all go without... well, letting it all go, if you know what I mean.
Somebody pray for me. My joy is buried somewhere in this pile of thoughts and worries. Tomorrow's a new day, and will bring new mercies, I know. But tonight is looking like sack cloth and ashes.
And there's a nail in my tire.
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