Category Archives: faith

faith, mommyhood, random thoughts, women

When You Just Can’t Find a Single Thing You Do Right

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This week, one of my blogger friends posed a question on her Facebook page. She was calling out to the moms in her community, asking them to speak positively about themselves. It was truly a wonderful opportunity for moms to brag on themselves for a bit, because that never happens. She basically said this: What’s one thing you do really well? I just want to hear you say something positive about yourself as a mom.

When I read it, I was giving the baby a bottle, putting him down for his nap. I had been scrolling through my Facebook feed, waiting for him to drop off into unconsciousness, so that I could lay him down. My bigs were already napping, and this was about to be my glorious hour or two of quiet freedom.

What’s one thing I do really well as a mom? Get them to nap at the same time so that I can have a moment of sanity. Oh wait, that’s really selfish. How about the fact that I’m great at getting a workout and a shower in every other day? Well, that still benefits me, not them.

All of a sudden, my mind is reeling and tears are coming to my eyes. Why can’t I think of a single thing I do well for my children? All I can think of are the basics. They’re clothed. They’re fed. They’re (relatively) clean. Well, that doesn’t make me a good mom… that’s the bare minimum. I can’t think of a single thing that I do as a mom that’s outstanding. I know so many other mothers who fall into that category. I’m often short-tempered and easily stressed out. Do those things count?

The more I think, the more I realize that as a mom, and as a woman (and a southern woman in particular), I’m trained to just try to be better. Not to recognize something I do well. I should be humble, hard-working, and put together. I shouldn’t be focused on what I do well – those things don’t need attention. The things that need attention are the things that need improvement. That’s where I should put my focus, right?

I agree with trying to be my best self. I agree with seeing that there may be things about myself that I can improve, change for the better. But I should be able to call to mind a thing or two that I do well. Feeding my children healthy food at almost every single meal and snack. Working out with and in front of them, so that they know being healthy is a priority. Spending lots of family time together, at home or out on the town. Reading to them most days and every night. THOSE are things I do well as a mom.

Here’s your encouragement for today. I read the comments on her question. It was lovely things like, “taking my kids to the park a few times a week” and “teaching my daughter sign language” and “listening to my children and taking their words to heart”. Those are truly wonderful things that moms are doing for their kids. Why don’t we give ourselves some slack? We’re doing a great job, moms. Love yourself a little. Give yourself a break. You’re a good mom. I know it.

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, siblings

5 Reasons Having 3 Under 4 Is Awesome and Terrifying

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

Having small children is amazing. It’s amazing if you think endless piles of laundry and cabinets being emptied out onto the floor is amazing. It’s amazing if you think snuggles all day every day and being able to make all their sadness go away is amazing. I’ll let you choose which definition you think I like more.

With three children under the age of four, I’m challenged with keeping little bodies safe, fed, clean and happy. They depend entirely on me for those things. You take for granted how easy it is to keep yourself safe, fed, clean and happy – especially if you’ve got a messy child, or a child going through a growth spurt, or a child who is too brave for his own good. Here are a few reasons I think that having three little children depending on you is difficult:

  1. Mobility. You’re always trying to keep track of who can reach what and how quickly and in what way. I’ve got a three year old daughter who basically has her run of the house. There’s pretty much nothing she can’t get to. If she’s too short, she moves a chair to give her a boost. I have an almost two year old son who is a thief. He can find pretty much anything I hide or keep out of sight. I have a two month old son who is completely immobile… for now. But the first time he rolls over? Gone are the days of sitting him on our bed while I get things done. When will he roll over? I hope I don’t find out the hard way.
  2. Car Seats. I’ve got three children in large, five-point harness car safety seats. That means I have to drive a car big enough to accommodate this. Just before we had our third, we sold my Camry (2003, baby!) and got a (large-ish) mid-size SUV, complete with captain’s seats and a third row. It is enough room to fit all three seats, and even hold another adult back there somewhere, but I’m realizing how annoying it is that not a single one of my kids can buckle themselves in. I have to strap in each and every one of them when we get in the car, including the ones in the back row. Heaven forbid I’m wearing a dress, or the neighbors get a show while I’m getting the kids in the car.
  3. Meal Time. This, all things considered, isn’t as bad as it could be. Most of the time, my big kids are great eaters. They eat what Hubby and I eat, almost without fail. My youngest is obviously not eating, but taking bottles, so he needs someone to feed it to him, unless we time it to happen right before or after. But when the rest of us sit down to eat, there are two main issues. My threenager can’t sit in her chair for more than 90 seconds at a time (We end up threatening to throw her food away. She knows she has to be finished to get up, so if she’s up, we “assume she’s finished” and tell her we’re throwing the food away) and my not-quite-two year old eats great for most of the meal, and when he’s done, his plate and the rest of the food hit the floor immediately, with no warning. Hubby and I share meal duty: one is always convincing EK to stay seated, and the other is always on the lookout for flying food/utensils from J.
  4. Lack of Self-Sufficiency. Sometimes, I take for granted how self-sufficient EK is. At 3 1/2, she usually goes to the bathroom by herself, she can dress herself, feed herself (if I make the food, of course), move herself around (with less concern about her running off) and basically entertain herself. With J, I’m still changing his diapers, dressing him (he’s at least getting more helpful with that), making sure he doesn’t run away, fall off something, or spill my favorite nail polish all over my bedroom floor (oh wait, that happened last week). And D? Well obviously at two months old I’m doing everything for him. I don’t mind – really, I don’t. But sometimes, it’s nice to go out to lunch with mygirlfriends and not have to order their food, ask them not to spill their water in their laps, and keep them from throwing the plate in the floor when they’re done. I don’t even have to take them to the potty!
  5. Bedtime. Every single one of them needs (or thinks they need) a long one-on-one with both parents at bedtime. They all also need (or think they need) to go to bed around the same time. We end up tag-teaming. We have a pretty good routine, but especially now that we’ve added a third kid with the same bedtime into the mix, we have had to get creative. Rotating through rooms, lullabies, soothing promises of tomorrow, and a little extra screen time have saved us from heartache, but also lengthened the time between family dinner and grown up freedom considerably.

My family is good crazy, needy and wonderful. Each day is an adventure, full of giggles, snuggles, messes and walking really slowly. Just surviving a day is the most hilarious, challenging, and heartwarming thing I could ever do.

faith, mommyhood, pregnancy

Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day

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My story is one of redemption. It’s a story of loss, of sadness, of time passing very slowly… and a story of the sweetest redemption I could’ve asked for.

After I had my daughter, Hubby and I didn’t wait to get pregnant again. We didn’t try necessarily, but we knew we wanted another, so we just waited it out. When EK was almost 11 months old, we found out we were pregnant again! How quickly you grow attached to the little one in your womb. Just the idea of that baby was the most wonderful thought in my head day in and day out. But two weeks later, I was feeling terrible and crampy, and started bleeding. By the time I got into the doctor’s office for an ultrasound, it was already clear I was losing the baby. Hubby was leaving town, I had to work, and I didn’t have time to properly mourn. I couldn’t believe it had ended so quickly and quietly. Or was I glad it had ended that way, instead of further along and with more to-do? I don’t know.

But after three months of waiting to try again, of being sad every time I even thought about babies… I was chatting with some girlfriends, asking how much longer it should be before I could move on and try again. I was startled, taken aback by the question. The subject had been a little taboo, or else people hadn’t even known about it. So when I got my calendar out, counted up weeks… I realized it had been plenty long enough to have started again and been trying.

When I got home, I took a test that had been waiting in the bottom of my bathroom drawer, awaiting just such an occasion as this uncertainty. I waited with bated breath… and when I finally looked at it, two bold, pink lines were showing.

Positive.

Positively pregnant.

I could barely believe what I was seeing. I somehow had ovulated and conceived without any sign. I was baffled, and still thought it was a mistake. Could the pregnancy hormones have hung around this long? Could it somehow be a false positive, staring back, taunting me?

It wasn’t.

My grief dissipated, and my heart hung on to this new little one… who is now 21 months old, my sweet Joseph. I know that this isn’t always the happy ending parents get after losing a baby. I know that the grief is more intense the longer the pregnancy and older the baby. I know that multiple losses cause more and more pain. But there can be redemption in the midst, and joy in the morning. It may not be identical to my redemption… but it will come.

Infant and pregnancy loss are real, folks. And they are truly tragedies, spoken and unspoken. Remember those who have lost little ones, big ones, tiny ones, and grown ones. It’s never easy to lose a child. Hug someone’s neck or send a note to say you remember. It will go a long way.

This post is in honor of infant and pregnancy loss awareness day (October 15) and month (October) in 2015.

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, random thoughts, women

Don’t Forget the Sweet Moments

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

 Have you ever had one of those moments where your heart is so full that you think it might explode? One of those moments when you first realize you’re sure about the one you love? One of those moments that your children are playing nicely together and it makes you want to have another? One of those moments where everything in your life is just so, and you think, “All right, I’ve made it; it’s perfect.” Well I had one of those moments the other day.

My mom was in town for a visit, and she was rolling around on the floor playing with my oldest two kids, each dressed up in costumes (a princess and Mr. Incredible, of course). I had a sleeping two month old on my chest, and I was just gazing at my family, loving everything that was happening. I was looking at my little brood, and thinking, oh my gosh this is a lot, but I love it. My heart and my uterus were teaming up and battling against my mind on the grounds that we should have another. Obviously, I’m not thinking about that yet. (Cue my husband running for cover.) However, my heart was so full of love for the three little tinies I had helped create, playing so happily with my mom, making silly noises, and giggling till their hearts content. As Gary Chapman might say, this afternoon “filled up my love tank”.

I often get caught up in how difficult my days can be. Instead of appreciating things like giggles or silly mispronunciations, I can be bogged down by the messes or the shouts of “No!” when I ask someone to do something. I can feel like all I heard during the day were cries, even though that really isn’t true. I can look around my house, and think that nothing was accomplished. My sink is full of dishes. My sofa is full of laundry waiting to be folded. My bed isn’t made. My toilets have a ring in the bowl. But I should remember that moment of my children rolling on the floor giggling with my mom, and the feeling of a baby sleeping soundly on my chest. Life won’t always be easy; no one has ever argued that. But it won’t always be tough, either. Remembering each positive moment, committing to memory the sweet times and kind words, that will help the tough times seem not so bad.

faith, food, holidays, home, mommyhood, music, random thoughts, women

Hubby Is 30!

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In honor of my amazing, talented, hilarious, handsome, wonderful, giving, loving Hubby’s dirty thirtieth birthday, I’d like to show this little collection of photos…

Before this happened…

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There were these two kids, on the night they met, at a Halloween party (right after the church service they played together)…

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You know, just trying to make scary faces with the cute guy you just met.

They were together a lot after that…

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This is our “college formal” face.

And I mean a lot…

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Our “middle school dance” date. He put a lot of work into that one!

Until one day, he proposed for real…

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This remains the only picture of us from that night. And we’re still making that stupid “college formal” face.

Practiced getting married…

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Post rehearsal dinner shenanigans.

And really did it…

This is totally characteristic of our relationship.
This is totally characteristic of our relationship.

Then we bought a house…

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We bought our house on the way to the airport to go to Italy. Obviously.

Shaved his head for children’s cancer…

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He’s done it several times, but this was the year he also raised $200 for his trashy mustache.

Went to this bar, our favorite bar, for 90 days in a row… three times…

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Finnigan’s Wake will always be home base for us.

And then we got pregnant and had this sweet gal…

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All of a sudden… parents!

I watched him become the most amazing dad…

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They’re still besties.

And then we did that a time or two more…

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I’m a little bit pregnant with J in this one…
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And I’m a LOT pregnant with him here.
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And here I’m a couple weeks away from having D!

With a few breaks for being awesome in between…

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Singing in his wedding band was still one of the most fun nights of my life!
Just a little family partying.
Just a little family partying.

All in all, I wouldn’t do life any differently or with anyone else. Hubby’s my rock. He’s my personal chef, my confidant, my treasured friend, my only lover, my companion, my “I need to tag out!” or “I can’t do this alone!” rescuer. He is my everything, and I can’t wait to spend the next thirty years with him. 30 looks good on you, babe. Happy birthday.

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, women

Doing Life Together

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

As humans, we are made for community. God created man, and then said he needed a companion. We need each other. We have the ability to help each other, enjoy each other, and make each other better people. There are countless cliches about community and being together: “It takes a village.” and “Two heads are better than one.” and “Birds of a feather flock together.” They show just how much we are meant to be with other people.

In the world of moms, there has been much talk recently of having or finding your “mom group”. Frequently that group is labelled a “tribe”. Tribe is an old word that’s making a reappearance in our culture. It makes me think of a bunch of people literally living together, in huts within a few hundred feet of each other, nomads even. Webster defines tribe as “a group of people that includes many families and relatives who have the same language, customs, and beliefs”.

Well, that’s really what it is, right? People living together, in similar stages of life, in at least semi-close proximity, surviving the trenches of parenting and doing life together. And – thank goodness! – those people I’ve got! My tribe won’t bat an eye when I call to ask about a weird-looking poop, or with questions about how to deal with my preschooler’s attitude. My tribe will come over to help us escape the rainy day (week!) boredom or meet us at the park to get the blues out of our systems. My tribe doesn’t think I’m a bad mom when we’re having Chick-fil-A for the fourth time this week.

It’s not always easy to find your tribe, but once you’ve got it, it’s a relief. It’s a great feeling to have someone you can chat with while the crazy swirls around you. It’s nice to be totally real, unaffected, and just plain relaxed around someone. Those people may be few and far between. Those people may be those you least expect. But be brave – strike up conversations, seek out those around you. Find your tribe. You were made to be a part of one.

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus

I Said Yes

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

As the mom to young kids, I say no a lot. I say no to everything from throwing food on the floor and drawing on the wall to hitting siblings and screaming in restaurants. I feel like I only have negatory words in my vocabulary; let’s not do that, don’t touch those, and no, thank you.

So this morning, when I went out with my daughter, I decided I would say yes as much as I could. Could we have smoothies for breakfast? Yes! While we are shopping in Old Navy, could she choose a new dress. Yes! Could she wear it to church tomorrow? Yes! Could she ride the choo-choo? Yes!

Just a few simple yeses went a long way. Most of them were ones I would’ve said yes to anyway. We needed to have breakfast, so why not smoothies? I knew we were going to look for a couple of fall dresses for her at Old Navy, so when she chose her favorite, of course I said yes. And her favorite yes of the day was easily the train ride.  

 What looked to me like a silly little “train” driven by a bored-looking fellow was a wonderful surprise to my three year old, train-obsessed daughter. We rarely go to the mall (who has time to drag kids through the mall on a regular basis?!) so I didn’t even know train riding was a possibility. We were both surprised, and while $3 a piece to ride a thing made to look like a train for a 4 minute trip around a quarter of the mall seemed like a waste, it made my daughter’s day. She was so ecstatic about being on a train that she wanted our picture taken, her picture taken, and she still has the tickets the conductor gave us in her room. 

 It felt incredible to be able to say yes. I often get weary of not letting my kids have the answer they want. It’s not much fun to say no all the time, because I really do want them to do and have everything. It’s even worse saying no when they’re too young to understand that I have their best interest in mind. So today, saying yes felt especially good, both to me and to EK.

When we are asking the Father for something, really, really hoping for it, but it isn’t what He has for us, we don’t like getting no as the answer. But He wants to give us a thousand yeses, wonderful blessings better than whatever we could think to ask for. Our Heavenly Father knows what we need better than we can understand, and so he tells us no sometimes. He gives us a no to make way for the yes.

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, women

Clumsy Girls Need Grace

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

Hubby and I always talk about things we hope get passed down to our kids, and things we hope skip right over them. For instance, I had years of braces, but Hubby has naturally straight teeth. Guess which one of those I hope my kids get? Most of those things we talk about won’t manifest until a little later (a couple more years, at least!), but there’s one thing I’ve already seen in my daughter that she got from me…

Her clumsiness.

That actually would be a good royal name for her. More applesauce, Your Clumsiness?

At least once a day, I hear her cry out from across the house. I know nothing major has gone down, because it’s been so frequent that I can pretty much tell you what’s happened. She has stubbed her toe. Almost every single time. Or maybe she dropped something on it, or stumbled off of her plastic, high-heeled princess shoes, or hit her elbow on a doorframe. You know – the usual.

Part of me totally understands. It’s truly frustrating to trip over nothing and have bruises up and down your legs you don’t really remember getting. It’s a pain (ha ha, right?) to bump knees and elbows and toes on everything that sticks out one millimeter. It stinks to be a little less coordinated than the average (already uncoordinated) three-year-old. But the rest of me knows I have one job: teaching her that every little bump or bruise (or thing that doesn’t go her way) can’t be a big deal.

That’s where I’m a fault. Sometimes, I’m the one who makes a giant deal out of a spill, or a crash of something breakable. I’m the one who shouts in pain when I stub my toe – or like this morning, when I hit my knee getting in the car, and exclaimed, “Ouch! I think I broke my leg!” I hit it pretty hard, okay?!

It just isn’t practical to make a huge deal out of a stubbed toe. Or spilled milk. Or a bruised elbow. These things are going to happen, and she and I both need a lesson in patience and shrugging things off. We sometimes bring out the worst in each other, making big deals of things we shouldn’t. But it’s a learning process. I’m hoping to teach her to let it go earlier than I learned – because I’m obviously still working on it even now.

I know that what we need is grace. We need a reminder that we aren’t perfect, we will never be perfect, and it’s okay that way. If we were perfect, we wouldn’t need the love and blood of a Savior to redeem our imperfections. Because we screw up, we react poorly, and then we feel guilt about it, we are human. And humans need Jesus to cover their sins and screw ups with amazing grace. A lesson in grace for my clumsy girl is also a lesson in grace for me.

faith, My Big Jesus, random thoughts, women

Taking My Kids Out of the Box

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

In this culture, it’s difficult to raise a child. There are lists of rights and wrongs you must attend to (and choose between, since they differ so vastly) and scores of things to worry about. Just fear alone could cripple a parent who dwells on it. One of the recent things that has blown my mind is the debate on gender-specific items for kids. Watch out, parents of America! Target just desegregated their toys! Your boys might turn into girls!

I just can’t imagine why mixing in the dolls with the trucks would be such a bad thing. Since I have a boy and a girl who are close in age, they are each always playing with each other’s toys. We have tons of fairy wands that my son plays with (what boy wouldn’t want to cast a spell on his big sister once in a while?) and we have trucks, planes, and Legos that my daughter plays with (she loves to build – and destroy – tall towers).

That being said, there are some things that my kids seem to inherently just do that goes a little more with their “assigned gender”. For instance, my daughter loves wearing dresses. Sun dresses or all-out princess dresses, she’d rather wear one than pants any day. Did I exclusively buy her dresses? Absolutely not. She likes to play rough, so I in fact discourage them sometimes. But she has this love for them that I could never have forced on her even if I wanted to.

Alternatively, my son loves to be outside and get dirty. He’s an escape artist when it comes to getting outdoors. If there’s a door open, he’s dashing out, headed straight for the nearest mud. He’s constantly got dirt under his nails, bruises and scratches on his legs from climbing (and falling), and he’s shouting about everything. He is, as you might say, “all boy”.

I think God created us to be individually different, with interests and personalities unlike anyone else’s. He created us male and female (Genesis 5:2). He specifically created each one separately and for a different purpose. But the good news? The good news is that while we have things about us as women or men that are often “built in”, there are things about many of us that break those molds. Many people think that women should do the cooking in their families. Well, if only women should cook, why are there so many incredible chefs that are male? Often, people think that men aren’t as gentle or nurturing as women are, but I know many gentle and nurturing fathers; one of them is my husband.

Our society has created roles and stigmas that bind people, and often make them try to be something they aren’t. These labels may have originated (like many stereotypes) because of a frequently-occurring trait, but they are by no means a blanket statement. We shouldn’t put people in boxes – especially our children – before we even bother to find out if they fit. Differences should be celebrated instead of stamped out. Girls who love blocks and train track might just be engineers. Boys who play with dolls might just be great dads. Why should we discourage either possibility?

faith, My Big Jesus

The Life of a New Mom

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When you have a baby, certain things fall to the wayside for a few weeks (months?) that used to matter a little more. There are the normal things, like sleeping and eating. There are also things like laundry and other chores that you fall behind on. There are still more things that you neglect, often about yourself, that it takes you a while to get back into. I’m finding this out, once again, after the birth of my third child. Here are a few of the things I’ve been neglecting for the past six weeks:

Showers. It seems a little gross that you are neglecting these, but honestly, if you have half an hour to yourself, you’ll probably nap (or let’s be honest: sneak out and get a latte) instead of shower. Just being honest.

Beauty routines. The careful steps you took to put on your make up, the way you’d do your hair before you left the house, and the polish on your nails? Say goodbye. I have chipped nail polish from weeks ago, and I barely slap on the mascara every 5 times I leave the house. My hair gets washed every couple of days, and brushed… after I get out of the shower. Oops.

Haircuts. Speaking of hair, this is one of my biggest bummers about neglecting myself for a few weeks. As a person with short hair, I like to get it done about every six weeks, or else it gets super shaggy and it looks like I’m trying out a new (horrible) hair style. It’s been about 9 weeks since I’ve had a haircut, and I’ve stopped checking the back of my head in the mirror at any point. Ignorance is bliss. Oh, I have a giant cowlick back there? That means I actually slept a little last night!

Food. I don’t mean eating it… I mean making sure you have it. And also making sure it’s not rotten. And I hate being wasteful. We’ve run out of milk a few times (not good for my little napping babes) and eggs and bread once or twice as well. But somehow we recently had so many bananas that I ended up freezing the overripe ones for smoothies (because no one wants to eat a mushy banana) and I just threw out three molding peaches (disgusting) and some would-be-delicious leftovers that had been there since… I just don’t know how long. We have completely lost our balance for grocery shopping and food consumption.

Friends. I’ve been trying to do well here, but I’m sorry if I slipped. I’ve definitely texted a few of you a few times. That’s something, right? And several of you have brought us meals, you blessed souls. It’s nice to see a familiar face around here that isn’t asking me to change its diaper or feed it ice cream.

Knowledge of the outside world. Hey, is there some kind of election coming up? Wasn’t there some sport that just had a tournament or got a new outfit thingy? What season is it, again? I can’t even remember the day of the week…

Prayer life. Where I usually try to be very intentional about reading my Bible and choosing something or someone to pray for, recently my prayers have been all but limited to, “Please God, let the baby stay asleep.” and “Dear Lord, please let us have a few more diapers stashed around here somewhere.” Or my personal favorite: “Thank you, Lord, for my kids! And now, bed time!”