A Glass House

My four year old says the funniest things ever! Not only does she SAY things that leave me dumbfounded, but it's the WAY she says them. When you add in her body language, tone, and facial expressions, you would truly think your talking to 40 year old! Many people have said things like, "You should have cameras hidden in your home and make some money off of her!" I always laugh and say, "Yeah. I know." However, secretly I'm thinking, "I'm soooo glad there are NOT cameras in my home!" 

There are so many moments I'm not proud of. This morning was one of them. Today (like most days around here) we didn't have anything planned. I announced I was taking a shower and the younger two come running to me patting their own chests indicating they wanted to get int he bath tub. Sometimes I stick them in the big tub in my bathroom while I shower. They love to play, I get them clean, and it frees up more daddy time in the evening. With nothing on the calendar, I agree. They start jumping up and down and run upstairs, tear their clothes off, and jump in. Everything was going well until for some reason we ran out of hot water. By the time I quickly finished myself up, the baby and my four year old were shivering and complaining. (My son didn't care at all....just like a boy!) I wrapped them up in towels and went to get warm clothes. Did the whining and complaining stop?.....NOPE! My daughter went on and on and on about how cold she was, how sticky she was, how wet her hair was......I. Got. Huffy. I started rambling off all the reasons why we need to have good hygiene, and all the reasons I could think off that she needed to be thankful that she had running water at all even if it wasn't hot. Sometime after going into detail about kids in Africa (Yep. I know I lost her!) I stopped long enough to realize I had gone overboard. A few seconds later as I threw my make-up on (an accurate description on how it's applied), ashamed I said to myself, "Sure glad no one saw that!" I then stopped and starred at myself in the mirror as I pictured God saying, "Hello? Maggie? Did you forget? I saw."

He does. He sees all. Every impatient word snapped, every huffy tone, every eye roll, every "What were you thinking" look, every stupid disagreement with my husband. He sees. He knows when my heart isn't right even when my actions are. He knows how much of a sinner I truly am. It's as if I live in a glass house. And yet, He loves me anyway. Mind Blown! In those moments I don't even love myself....He does! That's all it took for me to go hunt down my daughter get down on her level and apologize for my impatience and ask for forgiveness. A big smile came across her face, and she said, "Sure Mommy." and gave me a hug. 

Oh, how I wish I could remind myself of this on an hourly basis. God sees. God cares. God loves. It takes me back to middle school when the "What Would Jesus Do?" campaign took off. I need a "God's Watching You" campaign. Sounds a little creepy  but what a good reminder. While I'm still very thankful my house is not made of actual glass, and there are no cameras, I pray I become more mindful that God is watching me. To pretend, if you will, I do live a glass house. He sees me at my worst, in my lowest moments (and of course all the good) and yet extends grace and love. Praise God!

** Side note: A few hours later, my daughter sat at the lunch table and said in a sweet voice, "Mommy, I'm really sorry for dumping the chocolate chips. Will you forgive me?" After forgiveness was given for her previous indiscretion  she smiled and added, "I love you." Wow! Is it possible she appreciated the sincere apology she had received from me earlier, that she was moved to apologize herself on her own? Is it possible I just had a quick glimpse at how my children learn from my example? How cool is God?**

Christmas Without Santa?

Recently, I've been asked by many friends and family members why we've chosen not to do Santa Claus with our kids. It's forced me to ask myself some hard questions to validate what we do and why.

I grew up celebrating Christmas without Santa Claus, and I knew that when I had kids I would do the same. Before my husband and I had children we discussed and decided how we would approach the topic. Growing up without Santa, I didn't even know if I could bring myself to do it, and my husband had his own disappointing experience of "finding out the truth" (as do many) so the decision was easy for us.

As our children are getting older and we're having to explain more and more, and as people start asking us questions it's forced us to really know why. Not just, "This is how I grew up, so this is how I'll do it." But really why?

Here are some of our reasons:
-We want our children to know without a doubt, what we tell them is true. If I spend the first few years of their lives telling them Santa Claus is real and going great lengths to reinforce it, when they find out it was all a game, will they start to question other things that I tell them are true? Like Jesus? Was that part real, or just a story too?

-We try to be on guard when introducing mythical magical characters in general. We want their hearts to be as sensitive as possible to the true miraculous stories of Christ. I've already noticed my daughter not being that impressed with stories like the feeding of the five thousand or Jesus raising a little girl from the dead. It's made me think. I guess if everything is bippity-boppity-boo'd into existence in her world (it's everywhere from sesame street to Disney) it would be hard to be impressed with the real deal. If reindeer can fly and a fat man comes down every chimney in the world in one night what's the big deal with calming a storm?

-Telling our children that they will get presents for being good and nothing for being bad (not like ANYONE actually does this) is the exact opposite of what we're trying to teach them. Good deeds equal good things? We ALL know life doesn't work like this. I know many very "Good" people that go through horrifically hard times. And, Salvation definitely doesn't work like this. No. We want them to learn things like grace and unconditional love. God gave us the gift of Jesus and on Christmas one way we can celebrate this is by giving gifts to each other. Not because of how good my children are but simply because we love them.

-Less talk about Santa, the more we can talk about Christ. Easier said than done. These of course are our intentions but it is hard to continuously point our children towards the manger with all the commercialization of the holiday. It's hard to continuously point myself toward the manger....better start there!

So what DO we do with Santa?
In our house he's not taboo. Santa Claus is a character just like Dora and Cinderella. It's fun to read the stories and watch classic holiday movies, all the while reminding our children that it is exactly what it seems: Fictional. We do however talk about the real Saint Nicolas and make it a good reminder to share our blessings with people less fortunate.

Doesn't this take away from the magic of Christmas?
Um....NOPE. If you could come into our home and see our kids jumping up and down at the thought of Christmas and all it brings you would know they're really just as excited as any other Santa believing kid.

In all reality my daughter kind of thinks it's fun to know something her friends don't (as did I when I was little). We've only had one issue of her announcing to her Mops class that Santa isn't real, but really all it took was a conversation and she's good. (I didn't think I needed to do that in October, but apparently Christmas gets to the minds of a child before it gets to Target!) The talk I had with her this year did raise some very interesting moments. My daughter doesn't understand why parents would lie to their kids. Something about the appalled look on her face was all the validation that I needed that we're doing the right thing for us.

With some of the questions I've been asked recently, I decided to write about what we do NOT to try to persuade every reader to do exactly as us, but to encourage you to think about a few things. Why do you celebrate Christmas the way you do? What are your convictions?Is it just because that's how you did it when you were a kid? Maybe you need to ask some hard questions like I had to.

Side note:
Some of my favorite simple things that help point is towards the manger during the holiday season is:
-the movie the Crippled Lamb based on the Max Lucado book. (My daughter loves it so much, it's one of her favorites to watch all year long.)
-The fisher price nativity set. My parents go it for the kids a few years ago and they love getting it out and acting out the Christmas story.
-Using an advent Calendar. We like to do a different one every year.

These Are My People...Even Today!

Normally when I write, it's late at night when my head has been cleared and all the dust has settled in my brain and I can see things in a better light. Today however, I'm writing during naptime and I'm afraid the rawness of today will come through loud and clear.

I swear my children have secret meetings in the middle of night that go something like this:
My four year old is the ringleader and wakes the other two up to remind them that "tomorrow's the day". The goal: Lets see how long it will take to have Mom fall apart.
(I do know that this didn't happen at 4:30 last night because I was up with the one year old at that hour!)

With the goal in forefront of their minds the day begins. My two year old decides to cry about everything all morning long. I'm not making this up. I say no to having chocolate chips for breakfast (which has never happened)  and you'd think I was ripping his leg off! Then he wants cereal, but not cereal in a bowl just straight from the bag. Again a "no" and again a total meltdown. After spending some time alone in his room to calm down the very first thing he does is rip a toy out of his little sisters hands. He then peed his pants three times this morning!

On top of his lovely demeanor today, the baby is on a hunger strike demonstrated by throwing every piece of food put in front of her. She will however, nurse like a newborn if I would let her! She's 13 months old!! She also has decided that things like walking and playing with toys do not seem like something she would be interested in today. Instead she would prefer to stay on my hip and will scream and pull on my legs until she gets there.

Surprisingly enough my four year old has been quite mild today. A few sassy remarks, but that's it. Now, I know this is because I haven't really asked her to do anything she objected to like get dressed or brush her hair or ask before she gets out glue sticks. I'd like to think she sees how full my hands are with the other two she figures she'll give me her good stuff another day. But, I'm sure secretly she's saying, "Haha, the plan worked....she's loosing it! And, I don't even have to do anything!"

I fell like a good hot meal in their belly's always helps turn some things around. So I thought I'd make some Mac'n Cheese for lunch instead of the regular peanut butter sandwiches and apples. Not just Mac'n Cheese, but the homemade kind. I recently saw something on pinterest about boiling noodles in milk instead of water and stirring in the cheese. I thought i'd give it a try. I'm for anything that skips a step. Did you know that milk boils like 5 times faster than water? Did you know that it doesn't steam like water so you don't know it's boiling? Did you know that when milk burns it results in disgusting solid burnt stuff and smells awful?....yeah....me either....but I do now!

As I frantically moved the baby away from the stove (because she's always right at my feet) and grabbed the pot of flowing burnt boiling milk and noodles to the sink steam filled the kitchen and for a moment I was filled with all kinds of bad emotions. I was filled with hopelessness as I thought about how I just spent 20 minutes scrubbing the stains off my stove-top YESTERDAY, and now there was burnt milk stuck and smeared all over half the surface. Why even bother? I was filled with anger, frustration, and jealousy as I thought of my husband sitting at his computer chatting with adults about the upcoming election and record breaking storms. I thought, "This stay at home mom stuff is for the birds!". I thought how different my life would look if I dropped my kids off at daycare and went to work, picked them up and came home to a clean house because no one was here all day, made dinner, baths, books, and bed and called it a day. It sounded sooo good as the baby was crying because she couldn't be wrapped around my leg while I was dealing with mess, and the two year old was screaming "food. food. food." and my four year old who is normally a good buffer for the other two decided to go off by herself to color.

That bring me to now. After having peanut butter afterall, the little ones are sleeping and my oldest is still coloring quietly, and I finally have time to think practically. I need time for my heart to tell my head what it knows. My heart knows that THESE ARE MY PEOPLE! My heart knows all these headaches will soon turn into memories. Memories that will bring a smile to my face. Memories that someday in the future will bring me comfort. My heart knows it would be torn up daily dropping them off at daycare. My heart knows I love these boogers to death through all the whining, crying, peeing, non-eating, boiling burnt milk kind of days. My heart knows I'm right where
I need to be....WITH MY PEOPLE!

I Say "No", Because I Love You.

We've tried really hard to set a precedent in our home that the kids receive the toys and special things they want for their birthdays, Christmas, or a special occasion, and not every time we go to the store. Even with this being the general expectation of our home, our 4 year old has decided to test the waters recently. She's smart too. She thinks she has more of chance with a cheaper item, so the dollar bins at target has become a breading ground for whining and bargaining. In fact, just the other day we went to Walmart to pick up some pacifiers for her younger brother (we lost a few traveling), and she tried to tell us how its not fair that her younger brother gets something and she didn't. She also had that little item already picked out that would quickly right the wrong that was being done to her!

These are hard but very important moments for us to stand our ground and explain that we know what's best for her. My grandfather was known for saying. "The biggest mistake GOOD parents make is giving their kids TOO MUCH." I'm confident that saying "No" will help her grow into the person I want her to become. A person who can hear disappointment and still cope, a person who can trust that her parents can see a big picture that she may not. I love her too much to let her get everything she wants. I even explain to her that there are things that I want that I can't have. She'll be dealing with this her whole life. Better learned young. You see, right now it's the trinket from the dollar bin, but down the road it'll be a sleep over that I don't feel comfortable with, or riding in a car with boys, or going to a party that has alcohol. In these moments, when I say no because i love her and know what's best for her, I want her to be confident that her parents see something she doesn't. Just like time she begged hard for a toy and forgot about it within 3 seconds of walking out the store. 

I'm the parent. I call the shots. I know that hearing "No" develops character. It helps her get to know herself better and what she really wants. If that toy isn't forgot about within 3 seconds of leaving the store, and we keep hearing about it, we tell her that if she really wants it she can wait for her birthday or Christmas. This also makes her appreciate it that much more because she had been waiting for it.

It does get me to thinking: How many times do I play this game with God? How many times have come to him with requests that seem so important to me, life-changing even? And, God in his infinite wisdom looks down on me and says, "Not right now. Not this time. Put it back on the shelf." There have even been times where I shamefully have thrown a fit whining and pouting about this answer. 

Please let my husband get a raise. 

Take this cancer away. 

Help this person see where I'm coming from. 

How could these things be wrong or bad? I don't know. 

But I do know that God stands over me just like I stand over my 4 year old and knows better. He knows that if I have to wait for something that I really want it could help develop me into a better person. A person HE wants me to be. It could help me learn patience, gratitude, thankfulness, or contentment. Looking back on my life a lot of things I thought were so big at the time, really were quite small. Is it possible that God knew the mountain was really an ant hill? It's not only possible its very probable! He knows and He loves me, and sometimes the answer is "Yes. Let's do this!" But, so often I fold my arms in protest and hang my head and pout all the way through the store because God said "No" to the dollar bin junk at the beginning. Sometimes it's because there's something so much better in store....something I didn't even know I wanted, but something I'll cherish forever (like a child). 

Good reminder: Sometimes "No." is code for "I love you."

My Baby is One!

Today my baby turns one. Now I know turning one is a big deal in general, but its especially a big deal for this third child. Don't get me wrong, this birthday is everything it should be: a celebration of her life, but its also the day my husband and I get to look at each other and say, "We did it! We kept all three kids alive for a whole year!" So, while we're celebrating her life we're also high fiving and fist bumping on the down-low.

I know you think this sounds a little dramatic, but let me tell you when your kids are not even 2 1/2 and 5 months old when you find out number 3 is coming along, you begin to severely doubt your ability to meet everyone's physical needs more or less nurture their souls like a good mother should. So, yes, there are some high fives around here!

For a good portion of my third pregnancy I did what any mother of two other young children would do: I pretended it wasn't happening. I focused on the two I had in front of me and tried not to think about how crazy life with one more would be. God knew what he was doing when he made gestation 40 weeks. It's funny how with my first it felt like it would take forever before I was holding that baby, and by number three I was begging for a few more weeks. Even though my back hurt, I peed every 15 minutes, and I could breath while laying down, I knew the easiest part of parenting was while they're in the womb.

Three months before my due date we moved to North Carolina. New state. New people. New doctor. New hospital. Husband has a new job. No family. I had my reservations about this new life, but followed my new found mantra of "Just keep living." It works well. My new doctor agreed that number 3 should be induced just like number 2 to prevent what happened with number 1. One great thing about this plan was that my mom was able to plan a trip to be here with plenty of time before the arrival. (Hallelujah!)

Mom here? Check. Baby girl newborn clothes pulled out of storage? Check. Bassinet ready? Check. Bags packed? Check. Camera charged? Check. Let's have a baby!

We showed up at the hospital at the crack of dawn like instructed to find out that they had no room for me. My amazingly awesome nurse brought me into a triage room to "start things". Now, I call her amazingly awesome because when I informed her this baby would show up very soon after my water broke, she listened to me. She decided she didn't want to personally deliver the baby in the dinky triage room so we waited until a room was ready, then my doctor came in and broke my water. So, what does a woman who's had one baby with an epidural and one all natural do with the third birth? Everyone has their own options and beliefs about this, but I am proud to say that I had 5 bad contractions before the epidural kicked in. As they say "Fool me once..." I felt no need to knock on deaths door like I had previously experienced. Been there. Done that.

Turns out I was right. The little squirt made her appearance within an hour of my water braking. One push and there she was! We're not exactly sure how much she weighed. The scale was doing weird things at the time of her birth and somehow she magically gained a whole pound in 2 hrs, so we're guessing she was around 7 lbs. Right in between her brother and her sisters size.

A few hours later the bed was full of my whole family. All 5 of us. A crazy moment for me to look from OUR 3 year old, OUR 1 year old, and OUR newborn. I remember thinking, I sure hope this works! Flash foreword a year, and our lives would have a great hole in it without this little one. She loves to laugh and her favorite things ever are her older sister and brother. She marches right along with them. She's been walking now for a few months and practically runs from room to room with the clan getting into all kinds of fun stuff. She's our "sweet pea" and loves to snuggle. It amazes me how she filled a hole in our family we never new we had.

Life can get crazy around here. There are days when all the tantrums, teething, and poop make me go batty. Or nights with fevers, bad dreams, and teething that make those nights of feeding a newborn every three hours look heavenly. But the good far out-ways the bad, and I can't imagine life without the little monkey around. Happy Birthday Sweet Pea!

"Mommy Brain"

Something is very wrong! "Mommy brain" doesn't even seem to cover how absent my mind has been lately. Sometimes I feel like I'm wondering around the house aimlessly running from child to child meeting need after need with no other purpose, goal, or plan to strive for. I walk into a room and grab a diaper but no wipes, I'll  pick up one shoe but leave the matching one behind, I'll be laying in bed and realize my phone and the baby monitor are still downstairs.....Yes, these are just little things, but they're really starting to mess with my head.

I don't care what science says, I'm convinced a child in the womb feeds off brain cells. Then whatever you have left you push out with the baby and you never quite get them back! I had 3 children in 3 years....it's not looking good for me!

Not to long ago, our church had a marriage retreat night. They catered in a meal and provided childcare (woot! woot!...we don't get out much!) then had a speaker. Forgive me, I don't remember the speakers name. This goes right along with my topic about my brain working at slower speeds and comprehending less than it used to. This man was a professor at a nearby college and had studied the brain for years. He proceeded to tell us all about our brains and how men and women's brains work differently. As he's babbling on about the hypothalamus or something it hits me that this is way over my head. I wasn't  absorbing 40% of what he was saying. My mind kept wondering to all kinds of insignificant places like the lady's hair in front of me, and if I listened really hard, I think I can hear my baby crying from downstairs. What has happened to me? Over my head?....wait no it's not! I graduated from nursing school. Not too many years ago not only did I sit through microbiology, pharmacology, chemistry, and anatomy and physiology, but I passed them at that! Had motherhood really dumbed my brain down that much?

The whole irony of my even thinking this, is that one of the speakers big points was that our brains actually stores everything we've ever seen, heard, or read. We just don't tap into all those parts regularly. (Yes, I paid attention a little bit!)  So, no. I've not gotten more dumb....I just don't use those intellectual parts of my brain anymore. I sing the abc's and say things like "let's go potty" and "be gentle with your sister" like 100,00 times a day.

Sometimes it's easy for me to get down on myself and think, "Good gracious, Maggie you used to literally be helping save people's lives." or "I've got ideas. Good ideas too. Maybe I should be doing something more with them." Then I'll turn around to hear all three of my kids laughing together or watch one of them share without being told and I know I'm right where I'm supposed to be.

I'm supposed to be loosing my mind in this house with these kids. This is my job. It's more important and bigger than anything else right now. And, at the end of the night when I check on three peaceful precious little faces I know without a doubt I'd willingly give up every last brain cell for them.

Parenting.....The Hardest Race Ever!

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!