My family loves sports. We watched every bit of the Olympics that we could. Not only do we enjoy it for entertainment, but we believe sports can teach you so much about yourself and life. Even with our kids being little we try to utilize sports viewing as a parenting tool. Endurance, perseverance, teamwork, sportsmanship, victory, and defeat are a few things we talk about. I especially love the analogies that can be drawn between sports and life. Today, my husband ran his first triathlon. As I watched each contestant push forward it came to mind how strikingly similar a triathlon is to the race of parenting.
When you wake up the morning of the race you feel excited and confident in all your preparations. You're ready to be a parent and quite excited about it too. All the books that have been read and the classes completed have prepared you for the moment when that horn sounds and you'll be off on this journey or race of parenthood. But have you done enough? A tri is started with a swim. As you wade into the water you begin to get nervous and even doubt the decision to participate at all. However, the deed has been done and there's no turning back. : ) The horn sounds, and your off. Somehow, no one seemed to warn you about this part. Your getting kicked in face and pulled under water by everyone else around you. You just started and yet feel like quitting already. As everyone fans out and gets in their own grove, it gets a little easier. But, swimming is a every muscle in your body activity. Inevitably you begin to tire. The freestyle that seemed so promising at the beginning has turned into a breast stroke then a doggie paddle or at times just treading water. I'm convinced having little kids is like the swim. It's the loneliest of the events. No one is right there cheering you on. You get little love from the people doing it along side of you. Everyone is very focused on themselves and keeping their own head above water. It's also the only event where re-fueling isn't an option. There's no water bottle to grab or emergency energy gel pack to pop.....you find yourself only relying on the preparations you made ahead of time. Somehow, you've made progress because you pass a mile marker, but there's still a long way to go. Sometimes the kids help you along and the swim doesn't seem so bad, and other times it's like they personally tied weights around your ankles! There it is! You can see the shore. You think you're close enough to touch the sand, but put your feet down just to be pulled back under. Go a little farther! You almost have this! Soon your feet hit bottom. You're able to come up and take a nice deep breath. It feels so good. Done? Not even close, but that part is over!
You take off running for your bike. Shed the swim cap and goggles....you have new equipment needed for this new phase. Quickly put on your shoes and make preparations for a new set of challenges and experiences. Your kids are growing up now. A little more independent, but still very much in need of you just in different ways. There are some hard hills up ahead but you hear cheers from the sidelines, and it pushes you forward even when your body aches. The hill is over and down the other side is something wonderful. You get to sit back and enjoy. Keep peddling, but less force is needed. Things are going well. Still participating in the race, but not having to work so hard. Just when you think all is well, someone comes whizzing past you! Grab a swig of water and head on after them. You can't sit back and rest for too long. And, sure enough as you round the corner you can see the bike racks. While you're glad things are moving forward, it's hard not to hesitate. The bike has been working and feels good. If I get off, my legs might feel like noodles. What if they don't hold. me? It doesn't matter.....the end is here.
College really? Has time really gone by that fast. It seems like yesterday you were fighting for breath during the swim. Somewhat reluctantly you hang your bike up. Put on a new pair of shoes better fit for running, strap your number on your back and off you go, on a new journey. This journey seems so different, but also a little bit fun. You can say a few words to other runners and sneak in a wave at spectators. Time moves with a little less urgency now. As you round some of the last corners you know what's ahead. The finish line is the end of the race but the beginning of a celebration! Heaven will be sweet. You begin to reflect on all you've done. Hopefully satisfied, you cross the finish line with your arms held up high! Probably not the winner, but as a finisher feeling just as accomplished.
Now you can stop! What a feeling! This is true rest! Grab some water and let your heart rate slow down a little, because there's something big going on and you don't want to miss any of it!
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Who's Your Hero?
Recently a certain celebrity couple divorced and it's still making headlines. We live in a world where for whatever reason we find it fascinating to read about what kind of shampoo a movie star uses, so it's not surprising that their mangled shredded marriage is entertaining. I'm not going to actually call out any names. I'm sure they're both really nice people who love their daughter very much. I don't know them personally, and wont make any judgement calls like I do; however I am increasingly troubled that this women is being crowned a hero in the public's eyes. REALLY? A hero?
Huge reality check for me. We look at this women who "took down" one of the most well-known, wealthy movie stars there is. She blind-sighted him with a divorce, and somehow took primary custody of their kid with very little drama. She must have it all together right? Guess what? Being a feminists hero doesn't keep you warm at night. It doesn't hold your hand through mall or give you a hug after a bad day. Do you think she feels like a hero?....(I don't know maybe she does.) But chances are she's lonely. Chances are there's a huge gaping hole in her life. Chances are, there's a little girl who will grow up in a broken home. Who knows how that might affect her in the future. A Hero? Not mine.
Our culture is teaching us that the pursuit of happiness is ones goal in life. If your not happy anymore why stay married to someone right? That's a legit reason right? After all, I'm supposed to be happy in life. I have news for you: If Jesus pursued his own personal happiness do you think he would have died on the cross for you? Do you think in the moments leading up to his last breath his happiness kept him there? No, His love did. His love for us is so strong, deep, and untainted that he stayed. We've been called to be like Him.
When the seasons come (and have come) when my marriage feels like its surviving instead of thriving, I don't want a hero that has out-played and out-witted her husband into giving up. I want a hero that chose to overcome the lack of happiness in the moment for the greater good. To choose to love someone else instead of myself.
We are about to celebrate 8 years of marriage. This by no means makes me any kind of expert, but I'm also not brand new at it. We've lived in three different states and have three children. A lot of life has taken place and it's not always magazine cover good (like mostly never), but that's okay. I'm one imperfect person married to another one. Then we decided to take our imperfectness and create other little raw imperfect people. Our house is full of all kinds of hurt and joy, but we are all experiencing it together.
As my parents celebrate 30 years of marriage this year (we have the same anniversary). It makes me think about what kind of marriage do I want my children to see? What kind of marriage do I want them to have? Of course I want them to be happy, but my prayer is that they will pursue holiness first.
In this country we may have the right to the pursuit of happiness, but that doesn't always mean we should take it.
Huge reality check for me. We look at this women who "took down" one of the most well-known, wealthy movie stars there is. She blind-sighted him with a divorce, and somehow took primary custody of their kid with very little drama. She must have it all together right? Guess what? Being a feminists hero doesn't keep you warm at night. It doesn't hold your hand through mall or give you a hug after a bad day. Do you think she feels like a hero?....(I don't know maybe she does.) But chances are she's lonely. Chances are there's a huge gaping hole in her life. Chances are, there's a little girl who will grow up in a broken home. Who knows how that might affect her in the future. A Hero? Not mine.
Our culture is teaching us that the pursuit of happiness is ones goal in life. If your not happy anymore why stay married to someone right? That's a legit reason right? After all, I'm supposed to be happy in life. I have news for you: If Jesus pursued his own personal happiness do you think he would have died on the cross for you? Do you think in the moments leading up to his last breath his happiness kept him there? No, His love did. His love for us is so strong, deep, and untainted that he stayed. We've been called to be like Him.
When the seasons come (and have come) when my marriage feels like its surviving instead of thriving, I don't want a hero that has out-played and out-witted her husband into giving up. I want a hero that chose to overcome the lack of happiness in the moment for the greater good. To choose to love someone else instead of myself.
We are about to celebrate 8 years of marriage. This by no means makes me any kind of expert, but I'm also not brand new at it. We've lived in three different states and have three children. A lot of life has taken place and it's not always magazine cover good (like mostly never), but that's okay. I'm one imperfect person married to another one. Then we decided to take our imperfectness and create other little raw imperfect people. Our house is full of all kinds of hurt and joy, but we are all experiencing it together.
As my parents celebrate 30 years of marriage this year (we have the same anniversary). It makes me think about what kind of marriage do I want my children to see? What kind of marriage do I want them to have? Of course I want them to be happy, but my prayer is that they will pursue holiness first.
In this country we may have the right to the pursuit of happiness, but that doesn't always mean we should take it.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Another Birthday....Another Birth Story
My son turns 2 today. I only found it fitting to share his birth story as well (you can read about my daughter's here: http://3kidsnohairandfullheart.blogspot.com/2012/06/today-i-have-four-year-old.html). At least now I will have it written down somewhere....as you can imagine, I'm not the best with "baby books". Also, his was by far the most traumatic emotionally scaring delivery that still sends shivers up and down my spine every time I think about it.
Due to the fact that my daughter's shoulders got stuck and she was only 7lbs 10oz, my doctor and I decided it would be best to make sure this baby didn't get any bigger than that. I was to be induced 4 days before my due date with the hope that the baby would be small enough to slip out (Okay, that was my hope and not necessarily my doctors!) By the way, I'm assuming by this point I have scared away all male readers from this blog. If you are a guy and are still reading: Bless you!! Anyway, since I'm not one of those lucky people that have a perfectly healthy baby come naturally two weeks early, we went through with the induction. We had to wait an hour in the waiting room and I just so happened to be sitting next to a lady awaiting the arrival of her grandson. She then proceeded to tell me that her daughter had been in labor for the last day and half! I so badly wanted to say, "HELLO? Are you crazy lady? Do you not see that I'm getting ready to this too?" Needless to say, I was mildly freaking out by now. I was not in good shape after the delivery of my first and very much wanted to be done with this part.
We finally got a room, and they started everything right away. My doctor showed up and broke my water before I even had an IV. Even though joked with my doctor about wanting a baby by noon, I was expecting this take a while and the process to be slow. I also, knew this baby had been knocking on the front door for a while now and I could be surprised. The contractions quickly got more intense. Every time my nurse came into the room she suggested a different position or walking or rocking in the chair. Somehow, I made it along until the next time she would come in and I did something else. In between contractions I felt pretty good. Then it happened....I felt pressure. I was smart enough to know that the epidural probably wasn't an option at this point. My nurse helped me back into the bed and that was the beginning of the worst 45 minutes of my life! (Yes, I am being a bit dramatic, but if you did it you would be too!) I didn't open my eyes the whole time. Despite my husband vigorously rubbing my arms, both of them had gone completely numb. I couldn't move my arms or fingers. This is when I realized that my body was shutting down from the pain.....I was sure I was going to die. (Again dramatic but true.) I had to push and my doctor wasn't there yet. Thankfully this hospital has it's own midwife, and she had found her way to my room. She was ready to deliver the baby if needed. Two seconds later my doctor rushed into the room just in time for one push and baby was out! At 2:42 I delivered a 6lbs 9oz baby boy with no complications. (Aside from the near death experience.) The midwife was shaking me and telling me to open my eyes and it was all over. My husband immediately announced that was the most awesome experience ever, and got one dirty look from me. As close as I had been to death, just like that I was back. After a few seconds I stopped thinking about me an realized I hadn't heard the baby cry at all. I asked if he was okay and a nurse looked over her shoulder and informed me he was fine, but he was the most stunned baby she had every seen.
Still "stunned" my son cried for the first 3 hours of his life straight. I was starting to get a little worried that this could be some glimpse into his personality, but the nurse assured me that this is one of the things you see with a "non-drugged" baby. Sure enough he managed to settle down enough to meet his big sister later and my mom. He was such a cute little baby. I don't know if I've ever seen a baby look so much like a man before! He had skin all wrinkled up that needed to be grown into, and a little receding hairline on the sides.
He's not a baby anymore! It's sad and exciting to think about how much he's changed in just one year, and how much he will change in the next year to come. He's added so much life to our home.
He has two speeds: Running and Sleeping.
He loves anything that has to do with sports and teasing his older sister by taking her things.
He is extremely curious as to how things work and is always trying to figure it out.
He's not much of a talker, but communicates all the important stuff.
He loves being a big brother too. I can see him and my youngest being really close when they get older.
He loves his daddy and pretends to do everything just like him.
He's our early riser and good eater.
In our house he's known as "Big Man" and we're so glad God added him to our family.
I can't wait to see all the trouble he's going to get into in the future. (I can see many stitches and a few broken bones in store for us.)
Being a mother to two was soooo different, but in a good way. I remember feeling like it wasn't easier but it felt more natural. A kid for every parent. A child on each knee. It fit well. Then a mere 5 months later we found out it was all going to change.........again.........
Due to the fact that my daughter's shoulders got stuck and she was only 7lbs 10oz, my doctor and I decided it would be best to make sure this baby didn't get any bigger than that. I was to be induced 4 days before my due date with the hope that the baby would be small enough to slip out (Okay, that was my hope and not necessarily my doctors!) By the way, I'm assuming by this point I have scared away all male readers from this blog. If you are a guy and are still reading: Bless you!! Anyway, since I'm not one of those lucky people that have a perfectly healthy baby come naturally two weeks early, we went through with the induction. We had to wait an hour in the waiting room and I just so happened to be sitting next to a lady awaiting the arrival of her grandson. She then proceeded to tell me that her daughter had been in labor for the last day and half! I so badly wanted to say, "HELLO? Are you crazy lady? Do you not see that I'm getting ready to this too?" Needless to say, I was mildly freaking out by now. I was not in good shape after the delivery of my first and very much wanted to be done with this part.
We finally got a room, and they started everything right away. My doctor showed up and broke my water before I even had an IV. Even though joked with my doctor about wanting a baby by noon, I was expecting this take a while and the process to be slow. I also, knew this baby had been knocking on the front door for a while now and I could be surprised. The contractions quickly got more intense. Every time my nurse came into the room she suggested a different position or walking or rocking in the chair. Somehow, I made it along until the next time she would come in and I did something else. In between contractions I felt pretty good. Then it happened....I felt pressure. I was smart enough to know that the epidural probably wasn't an option at this point. My nurse helped me back into the bed and that was the beginning of the worst 45 minutes of my life! (Yes, I am being a bit dramatic, but if you did it you would be too!) I didn't open my eyes the whole time. Despite my husband vigorously rubbing my arms, both of them had gone completely numb. I couldn't move my arms or fingers. This is when I realized that my body was shutting down from the pain.....I was sure I was going to die. (Again dramatic but true.) I had to push and my doctor wasn't there yet. Thankfully this hospital has it's own midwife, and she had found her way to my room. She was ready to deliver the baby if needed. Two seconds later my doctor rushed into the room just in time for one push and baby was out! At 2:42 I delivered a 6lbs 9oz baby boy with no complications. (Aside from the near death experience.) The midwife was shaking me and telling me to open my eyes and it was all over. My husband immediately announced that was the most awesome experience ever, and got one dirty look from me. As close as I had been to death, just like that I was back. After a few seconds I stopped thinking about me an realized I hadn't heard the baby cry at all. I asked if he was okay and a nurse looked over her shoulder and informed me he was fine, but he was the most stunned baby she had every seen.
Still "stunned" my son cried for the first 3 hours of his life straight. I was starting to get a little worried that this could be some glimpse into his personality, but the nurse assured me that this is one of the things you see with a "non-drugged" baby. Sure enough he managed to settle down enough to meet his big sister later and my mom. He was such a cute little baby. I don't know if I've ever seen a baby look so much like a man before! He had skin all wrinkled up that needed to be grown into, and a little receding hairline on the sides.
He's not a baby anymore! It's sad and exciting to think about how much he's changed in just one year, and how much he will change in the next year to come. He's added so much life to our home.
He has two speeds: Running and Sleeping.
He loves anything that has to do with sports and teasing his older sister by taking her things.
He is extremely curious as to how things work and is always trying to figure it out.
He's not much of a talker, but communicates all the important stuff.
He loves being a big brother too. I can see him and my youngest being really close when they get older.
He loves his daddy and pretends to do everything just like him.
He's our early riser and good eater.
In our house he's known as "Big Man" and we're so glad God added him to our family.
I can't wait to see all the trouble he's going to get into in the future. (I can see many stitches and a few broken bones in store for us.)
Being a mother to two was soooo different, but in a good way. I remember feeling like it wasn't easier but it felt more natural. A kid for every parent. A child on each knee. It fit well. Then a mere 5 months later we found out it was all going to change.........again.........
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Faith Like a Child
Faith.
For being such a simple word it sure is hard. Just when I feel confident in my faith something happens and it doesn't take but two hot seconds for me to start doubting again. I doubt myself, sometimes my beliefs, I doubt God and his presence or concern for my life. It takes work to reel myself back in to how I know I need to think. Sometimes I just picture God saying, "I got this, Maggie. Just like I had the thing before, and like I'll get the next thing to come."
Why, however, is it so easy for kids to have faith? My children have a raw unhindered faith in my husband and I as their parents. The other day I was going down the stairs holding my 9 month old. As I neared the end, I went bounding fast down the last few to jostle her around just so I could hear her infectious giggle. As I started going faster, she let go of me and put her arms in the air with her head back laughing continuously. She trusts me that I wont let go of her. In fact, I know it didn't event enter her mind. She let go and had an amazingly free experience. Why can't I do this? As God carries me through life, why do I hold on so tightly? And, when the bumps in road come, I cling harder in fear of getting hurt or being let down or worse....loosing control. Imagine having a faith where I just let go. Experience to the fullest of what I'm supposed to out of every situation. It might even put a smile on my face.
Not but an hour later, my husband came home from work and started playing with the kids. I was cooking dinner and peaked into the playroom to see him holding my son (2 years old) by one ankle upside down and swinging him around. This was not an unusual sight in this house, but I couldn't help but notice the joy on my sons face as he flew through the air. He completely trusted his daddy to not drop him or put him in harms way in any way. So much so, he was thrilled to be dangling by his foot upside down and asked him to do it again as soon as he was put down. Sometimes I think we miss out on some of the fun that God intended for us because of our lack of faith.
That night we had a bad thunderstorm, and my 4 year old ended up sleeping on our bedroom floor. In the morning I said to her, "You know what thunder is, and you know that it can't hurt you, so why were so scared last night?" She replied, "I don't know it just made me feel better to be close to you." I loved her response. You see in reality I am as helpless as she is when compared to Mother Nature, but she didn't expect me to stop the storm or make it go away. She just wanted to be close. Wouldn't it be wonderful if when the storms of life blow in and thunder hits so close the house shakes, I just set up camp at the foot of Jesus? Not because I expect him to make the storm stop (which he can!) but because just being close brings comfort.
What a challenge.
To have the unhindered all trusting faith of a child.
So the next time God goes bounding down the stairs....Let go and laugh loudly.
The next time He hangs me upside down by my ankles.....enjoy every minute.
The next time the skies get dark and the winds blow hard....run to His presence.
Challenge accepted!
For being such a simple word it sure is hard. Just when I feel confident in my faith something happens and it doesn't take but two hot seconds for me to start doubting again. I doubt myself, sometimes my beliefs, I doubt God and his presence or concern for my life. It takes work to reel myself back in to how I know I need to think. Sometimes I just picture God saying, "I got this, Maggie. Just like I had the thing before, and like I'll get the next thing to come."
Why, however, is it so easy for kids to have faith? My children have a raw unhindered faith in my husband and I as their parents. The other day I was going down the stairs holding my 9 month old. As I neared the end, I went bounding fast down the last few to jostle her around just so I could hear her infectious giggle. As I started going faster, she let go of me and put her arms in the air with her head back laughing continuously. She trusts me that I wont let go of her. In fact, I know it didn't event enter her mind. She let go and had an amazingly free experience. Why can't I do this? As God carries me through life, why do I hold on so tightly? And, when the bumps in road come, I cling harder in fear of getting hurt or being let down or worse....loosing control. Imagine having a faith where I just let go. Experience to the fullest of what I'm supposed to out of every situation. It might even put a smile on my face.
Not but an hour later, my husband came home from work and started playing with the kids. I was cooking dinner and peaked into the playroom to see him holding my son (2 years old) by one ankle upside down and swinging him around. This was not an unusual sight in this house, but I couldn't help but notice the joy on my sons face as he flew through the air. He completely trusted his daddy to not drop him or put him in harms way in any way. So much so, he was thrilled to be dangling by his foot upside down and asked him to do it again as soon as he was put down. Sometimes I think we miss out on some of the fun that God intended for us because of our lack of faith.
That night we had a bad thunderstorm, and my 4 year old ended up sleeping on our bedroom floor. In the morning I said to her, "You know what thunder is, and you know that it can't hurt you, so why were so scared last night?" She replied, "I don't know it just made me feel better to be close to you." I loved her response. You see in reality I am as helpless as she is when compared to Mother Nature, but she didn't expect me to stop the storm or make it go away. She just wanted to be close. Wouldn't it be wonderful if when the storms of life blow in and thunder hits so close the house shakes, I just set up camp at the foot of Jesus? Not because I expect him to make the storm stop (which he can!) but because just being close brings comfort.
What a challenge.
To have the unhindered all trusting faith of a child.
So the next time God goes bounding down the stairs....Let go and laugh loudly.
The next time He hangs me upside down by my ankles.....enjoy every minute.
The next time the skies get dark and the winds blow hard....run to His presence.
Challenge accepted!
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Today, I have a four year old!
Four years ago today my water broke and my husband and I began a 17 hour journey to parenthood. I've heard my own "birth story" 26 (almost 27) times, told to me every year by my mom. I have vivid memories of rolling my eyes as she told me how she curled her hair before going to the hospital because she didn't know any better and then described in detail the horror of 24 painful hours of all natural back labor before I came into the world. I never understood why she felt the need to relive that every year....then it happened to me! Needless to say, I totally get it now!
There's something about reliving the nervous excitement mixed with sheer panic that only giving birth can provide. So, here's an extremely shortened version:
Four days before my due date I stopped working. For three of those days I did nothing but watch movies and bounce on an exercise ball. My husband and I were watching a movie one day before my due date when my water broke. I really thought that meant we'd be holding a baby soon. After all, in the movies when someone's water brakes they have about 5 painful contractions and then a three month old, dry, cute, cooing baby pops out. What no movie shows is a women whose water broke 12 hrs ago and is still only 4cm dilated......I opted for the epidural around hour 15 (5 hrs on Pitocin). My nurse kept reminding me that this was my first baby and I could push for 3 hours!! (I kept the "ARE YOU NUTS?" to myself!) Around 4:00pm it finally was time to start pushing. After 1 "practice" push I heard, "STOP PUSHING!" I watched two nurses and my doctor frantically open packages and run around for a minute and then I was told to push again. Quickly followed by, "STOP PUSHING!" again. Her head was out and her shoulders were stuck. My doctor shared a not so subtle nod to my nurse who pushed the Code button on the wall, and all of a sudden I DID feel like I was in a movie. People started running into the room, my husband was pushed out of the way, and everyone got serious. My nurse was 8 months pregnant with twins so the next person to come in the room jumped on the bed with me. My doctor counted to 3 and the nurse jumped on my stomach. Not pushed, not applied pressure, but JUMPED!! Her knees left the bed...I know....I was there. At that moment I thanked God for the decision to get the epidural as I surely would have not survived what just happened. Out shot a 7lb 10oz baby girl! There was more running around for a few minutes and then just as fast as they all came, they all went away.
My perfectly fine daughter spent the first hour of her life in her daddy's arms (I was being attended to, and yes it did take that long!) it was love at first sight for those two, and he's still her favorite person! Becoming a parent was surreal. This little person is a mix of my husband I (this means she needs some extra prayer!), and a gift from God. What a responsibility, and what a blessing!
My husband gave her the nickname "Chili Pepper". This fits her perfectly. She adds so much flavor to our life. Having her makes everything just a little bit more special. She's hot and spicy and keeps you wanted more of her, however if you get the raw thing....it can be....um.....a little to much, and leave you needed a large glass of water to cool down! She has turned into quite an amazing little girl in these few short years of her life. She brightens our home and brings joy to our everyday! She is a natural born leader, and loves having her little brother and sister along on her latest journeyg's. She has an amazing imagination and loves to snuggle. She has been a huge challenge and an even greater joy. I can't believe God has trusted her in our care, and I can't wait to see what He does with the rest of her life. I feel blessed to have a front row seat for it.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Balancing the "Mommy guilt"
Apparently I have severely underestimated my ability to carve out 30 minutes a week to write on this blog. I'm going to go ahead and blame the baby for teething with a double ear infection, the toddler for transitioning into a "big boy" bead, and the 4 year old birthday party in less than 2 weeks. This would explain why I've been slipping into a coma-like state come 8:30pm every night.
Tonight I was determined to grab a snack and settle down to start typing. What I realized when I sat down was that it was driven by a certain kind of "Mommy guilt". Not the normal: "I don't provide organic snacks and perfectly educationally stimulating activities for my children every day" guilt, but the reverse kind. The "you need to take care of yourself" kind. Lately I've been getting hit from both sides. Do more for my family and home? or do more for me?
Sure I could stay up late every night making homemade fresh organic goodies for the next day, but my marriage would start to suffer and surely my sanity wouldn't be far behind. It's so easy to log into Pinterest and start pinning away all the good intentions in my head. Every closet organized with a purpose and perfect functionality, my children's rooms magazine perfect, the garden, the craft corner, the laundry room, even a better "junk" drawer. It always starts out innocent enough. When I have time for one of these projects I'll know where to find it now. But, all to fast it turns into discontentment, or discouragement, or "mommy guilt". Why doesn't my house look like my pin boards? What's wrong with me that I can't find time to glue gun, modge podge, cut, crinkle, bake, cook, and create my way to a better home? (I have three answers, and they're all sleeping upstairs.)
In my not so strong moments, yes, I think these things. I feel the guilt. Am I letting my family down by not providing such an environment? Then there's the other kind of guilt. "Why don't you have a hobby?" I ask myself this a lot. Well, most hobbies take time. This is something I really don't have much of and to be quite honest, when I do get it I would choose sleep over scrapbooking any day. This can't be healthy right? Many articles and other blog posts have been focusing on the importance of taking time for yourself. After all, if you don't take care of yourself you can't take care of others. Right? Or is this some notion to hide behind? Is there something wrong with sacrifice?
I'm having a crazy time balancing it all. Pour myself into my family and home. Pour myself into myself. I believe I just struck the key word. BALANCE! This is where I am. I want the best for my family and will provide it to the best of my ability. To reach that ability it also means I have to do some things for myself. (Does this mean I need a pedicure every few weeks? I think not....Another post for another time.) At the end of the day while I'm laying in that coma-like state....I have to remind myself that I'm the very mom my kids need. And my kids are very kids that I need. My husband is my partner and I need him. I'll do what I can to make my home a homey welcoming place to open to friends and for my children to enjoy and remember, but I wont sacrifice reading books and building forts to get it. I'm done feeling guilty for giving my kids goldfish and not having pictures up on my bedroom walls. After all, I have three little kids and sometimes that's just hard....and I'm okay with that.
Now I have couch calling my name.
Tonight I was determined to grab a snack and settle down to start typing. What I realized when I sat down was that it was driven by a certain kind of "Mommy guilt". Not the normal: "I don't provide organic snacks and perfectly educationally stimulating activities for my children every day" guilt, but the reverse kind. The "you need to take care of yourself" kind. Lately I've been getting hit from both sides. Do more for my family and home? or do more for me?
Sure I could stay up late every night making homemade fresh organic goodies for the next day, but my marriage would start to suffer and surely my sanity wouldn't be far behind. It's so easy to log into Pinterest and start pinning away all the good intentions in my head. Every closet organized with a purpose and perfect functionality, my children's rooms magazine perfect, the garden, the craft corner, the laundry room, even a better "junk" drawer. It always starts out innocent enough. When I have time for one of these projects I'll know where to find it now. But, all to fast it turns into discontentment, or discouragement, or "mommy guilt". Why doesn't my house look like my pin boards? What's wrong with me that I can't find time to glue gun, modge podge, cut, crinkle, bake, cook, and create my way to a better home? (I have three answers, and they're all sleeping upstairs.)
In my not so strong moments, yes, I think these things. I feel the guilt. Am I letting my family down by not providing such an environment? Then there's the other kind of guilt. "Why don't you have a hobby?" I ask myself this a lot. Well, most hobbies take time. This is something I really don't have much of and to be quite honest, when I do get it I would choose sleep over scrapbooking any day. This can't be healthy right? Many articles and other blog posts have been focusing on the importance of taking time for yourself. After all, if you don't take care of yourself you can't take care of others. Right? Or is this some notion to hide behind? Is there something wrong with sacrifice?
I'm having a crazy time balancing it all. Pour myself into my family and home. Pour myself into myself. I believe I just struck the key word. BALANCE! This is where I am. I want the best for my family and will provide it to the best of my ability. To reach that ability it also means I have to do some things for myself. (Does this mean I need a pedicure every few weeks? I think not....Another post for another time.) At the end of the day while I'm laying in that coma-like state....I have to remind myself that I'm the very mom my kids need. And my kids are very kids that I need. My husband is my partner and I need him. I'll do what I can to make my home a homey welcoming place to open to friends and for my children to enjoy and remember, but I wont sacrifice reading books and building forts to get it. I'm done feeling guilty for giving my kids goldfish and not having pictures up on my bedroom walls. After all, I have three little kids and sometimes that's just hard....and I'm okay with that.
Now I have couch calling my name.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Time Goes By....
TIME.
It's a word I've been thinking a lot about recently. The concept seems simple enough. No matter how much it seems to be standing still the next minute is still a mere 60 seconds away. Even though time has not changed, our perception of it sure does. I am rarely satisfied with my time. I'm either looking forward to the next thing hoping beyond hope that time would go faster, "My vacation is in two weeks, but I wish I were on the beach now!" or I wish it would slow down, "If I only had time for sleep, I would feel more rested!" But regardless of how hard I wish, it stays the same. I always get a chuckle when my husband calls me from work in the afternoon and says, "Wow, I can't believe it's already 2:30! This day sure has flown by." My first thought is "2:30?!?! That's it? Feels like it should be bedtime already!" Now we both lived in the same exact time but have very different perspectives of it. .
This is only in the context of one day. What about the years. My daughter is almost 4. In some regards I can't believe she's going to be 4. It seems like yesterday she was crawling around with drool hanging out of mouth, but at the same time it's hard for me to imagine life before her and it was only 4 years ago. On one hand it seems long and the on the other very short.
Yesterday was Mother's Day and we dedicated our youngest at church. After the dedication we received a packet with a certificate, a Bible, and a sealed letter. This letter is addressed to our daughter from our pastor for her to open on her 10th birthday. "To be opened on October 5, 2021". 2021? My husband and I both looked at each other. "That's so weird!", he said. All I could think was in 10 short years she'll go from this spit-upy mess to a person with her own thoughts and feelings about life and God. She will actually be able to read this letter herself!
No matter how much I want it to speed up (oh how I would love to go out to eat with our children and sit and talk with no fits and spills) or slow down (sometimes I just want to hang on to the baby lotion and snuggles and bottle it forever), time marches on. Once its gone. Its gone. You can't get the last second back any more than you can make the next second come faster. All we have is the now. So the question is: What will I do with it?
I want to choose to live in every present moment for what it is. I want to stop wishing my seconds away. Instead, I choose to embrace the feverish baby at 3am that just needs snuggled, and on those really hard days when my children turn against me, I choose to be thankful that I'm at home and get to experience those hard days so I can fully appreciate the good ones. I choose to hug and kiss my kids as much as I can so they will never question how I feel about them and because October 5th 2021 will be here soon enough. And, I choose to give these precious moments of time over to God. That His name will be glorified with the time I have here.
And time goes by...
It's a word I've been thinking a lot about recently. The concept seems simple enough. No matter how much it seems to be standing still the next minute is still a mere 60 seconds away. Even though time has not changed, our perception of it sure does. I am rarely satisfied with my time. I'm either looking forward to the next thing hoping beyond hope that time would go faster, "My vacation is in two weeks, but I wish I were on the beach now!" or I wish it would slow down, "If I only had time for sleep, I would feel more rested!" But regardless of how hard I wish, it stays the same. I always get a chuckle when my husband calls me from work in the afternoon and says, "Wow, I can't believe it's already 2:30! This day sure has flown by." My first thought is "2:30?!?! That's it? Feels like it should be bedtime already!" Now we both lived in the same exact time but have very different perspectives of it. .
This is only in the context of one day. What about the years. My daughter is almost 4. In some regards I can't believe she's going to be 4. It seems like yesterday she was crawling around with drool hanging out of mouth, but at the same time it's hard for me to imagine life before her and it was only 4 years ago. On one hand it seems long and the on the other very short.
Yesterday was Mother's Day and we dedicated our youngest at church. After the dedication we received a packet with a certificate, a Bible, and a sealed letter. This letter is addressed to our daughter from our pastor for her to open on her 10th birthday. "To be opened on October 5, 2021". 2021? My husband and I both looked at each other. "That's so weird!", he said. All I could think was in 10 short years she'll go from this spit-upy mess to a person with her own thoughts and feelings about life and God. She will actually be able to read this letter herself!
No matter how much I want it to speed up (oh how I would love to go out to eat with our children and sit and talk with no fits and spills) or slow down (sometimes I just want to hang on to the baby lotion and snuggles and bottle it forever), time marches on. Once its gone. Its gone. You can't get the last second back any more than you can make the next second come faster. All we have is the now. So the question is: What will I do with it?
I want to choose to live in every present moment for what it is. I want to stop wishing my seconds away. Instead, I choose to embrace the feverish baby at 3am that just needs snuggled, and on those really hard days when my children turn against me, I choose to be thankful that I'm at home and get to experience those hard days so I can fully appreciate the good ones. I choose to hug and kiss my kids as much as I can so they will never question how I feel about them and because October 5th 2021 will be here soon enough. And, I choose to give these precious moments of time over to God. That His name will be glorified with the time I have here.
And time goes by...
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