For Jill

It has been a long time since I have cried for someone else.....well, until yesterday.

I can remember crying for Zachary when he was a day old and the nurses came into our room every few hours to jab his foot with a needle to draw blood. (The worst part being that they would warm his foot first with a heating pad and then WHAM!) I remember crying for my Granny when the love of her life - my Papa - died. I remember crying on each anniversary of September 11 for all the loved ones left behind.

I cry for myself plenty but how often do I really cry and pray and hurt for someone else?

I reconnected with a friend through Facebook about a year ago. We met on a mission trip when I was 17 years old. We spent the summer in Israel helping with projects at a school there. When we found each other on Facebook, I noticed that her kids were similar ages to mine. As most of you reading this know: when you find a mom whose kids are the sames ages as your own - there is a connection.

So, even though I have not seen my friend in 15 years, I do feel a connection. The summer that we spent together was life-changing for me. And she was a part of it. That, combined with our parallel lives, keeps us connected.

She is in a terrible amount of physical pain. You can read her story at http://www.jillrees.blogspot.com/ . I won't go into detail but because of her pain and weakness she has not been able to be the wife and mommy that she very much wants to. She had brain surgery a few months ago. The doctors thought this would fix the problem. It didn't. She had another surgery last week. It didn't work. The doctors don't know what to do any more. All she can do is lay flat on her back.....in pain. And watch other people take care of her children.

I just ache for her. For a while, I have been avoiding reading her husband's updates on her health. As if not knowing makes it less real. Yesterday, I let myself really FEEL for her. And it brought me to a place I have not been to in a long time. I cried out to God and begged for her healing. I just plain cried. The tears just kept coming.

In the last year, two women (friends of friends) who were my age, who had kids - babies, toddlers and preschoolers - like me - have died. I just cannot even comprehend this. Their kids will now grow up without their mamas. And now my friend is in a place that only God can get her out of.

I know that God is sovereign. I know that He has a reason and purpose for everything. I will never know the mind of God. I will never understand why bad things happen to good people. But I will trust in what I do know.

I know that God is good and loving and all-knowing and that nothing happens without Him allowing it. I know that God knows pain. I know that the troubles that we experience in THIS world do not even compare to the sweet glory that He is preparing for us in Heaven.

I love how The Message paraphrases Matthew 15:

"After Jesus returned, he walked along Lake Galilee and then climbed a mountain and took his place, ready to receive visitors. They came, tons of them, bringing along the paraplegic, the blind, the maimed, the mute - all sorts of people in need - and more or less threw them down at Jesus' feet to see what he would do with them. He healed them. When the people saw the mutes speaking, the blind looking around, they were astonished and let everyone know that God was blazingly alive among them."

I love that! I am so thankful that I serve a God who is still "blazingly alive!" I know that my God heals.

It hurts when we let ourselves really care for other people. To feel another persons pain is painful. But I know that this is what God wants me to do. It is His command.

Jesus said, "Love others as well as you love yourself." (The Message Matthew 22:39)

As I cried for my friend yesterday, I was "loving her as well as I love myself." To look outside myself is something I need to do much more often. A tiny part of me was changed yesterday.

Tips for surviving (and thriving!) in the baby/toddler phase

Here is a great practical and inspirational post that I came across today.

Click on the link below and ENJOY!

Conversion Diary: Tips for surviving (and thriving!) in the baby/toddler phase - The diary of a former atheist

The Things I Can Accomplish (when someone else cleans my house)

Because someone else cleaned my house one day last week.....I was able to clean out our "Coat Closet."

In the winter there really are coats that hang on the right side of the closet. In the spring and summer, the coats get moved to their respective homes (ie. Emilie's coat lives in Emilie's closet). In the cold and rainy months (when we are reaching for coats, sweatshirts and umbrellas repeatedly) it seems silly to continually put them away in four different bedrooms.

Anyway, this is one of two closets in our home that is not in a bedroom. The other closet is called the "Linen Closet." But it actually stores our toiletries, first aid, medicine, and cleaning supplies....as well as our linens. These two closets must store everything that does not belong (or will not fit) in a bedroom closet. Stuff is constantly getting shoved in them.....especially when people are coming over! So, I try to clean them out a few times a year.

The picture above is what our "Coat Closet" looks like after I have taken an hour to organize it. It should probably be called the "Game Closet" or the "Gift Wrap Supply Closet" or the "Kids' Stuff That Makes a Big Mess Closet."

But I digress.

I have been wanting to clean out this closet for at least 6 months. I never wanted to begin that project when there were other more pressing things to do. By "more pressing," I mean the things that can be seen when I open my front door. There is always the kitchen to clean or the living room to tidy up.

But when someone else cleans your house, number one: you are not too tired to take on a project and number two: your entire house is clean all at once so you are able to focus on a potentially messy and time consuming project.

This closet may not look like much to you but for the last two days (whenever I need a pick-me-up), I open the door and peek inside.

It is something that I have cleaned and organized that will stay that way for at least a few weeks....unlike every other area in my house.

I wish I had taken a "Before" picture so you could see the difference but I did not think of that until I sat down to write this post.

Oh! A little bonus to cleaning out this closet is that I found my son's 200 page Kindergarten Homework Book that is due on Monday. It had been missing for a week. He would have been devestated to miss out on the "prize" for completing his book.

He has two days to complete 40 pages.....oops, maybe I should have avoided that closet for another few weeks. I have a feeling it is going to be a loooong weekend!

Shhhh.....

Shhhh....
Isn't that what you think of when you go to the library? Apparently someone forgot to tell my children.

I thought that I would be a nice mommy and take my children to the library yesterday. Now I remember why we have not been there since last September.....what an absolute nightmare!
So, we had the "talk" in the car on the way to the library:
"We have to be quiet in the library. You can look at books, you can pick some books to check out, you can sit at a table with your books but you CANNOT yell, scream, run, hit, or throw books on the floor."

Well, it seems that my children got the speech all backwards. Everything I said that was a "can't" or a "don't" they thought was a "can" and a "do."

As we entered the Children's Room at the library, we were met by a large dog. Yes, you got that right, a dog! Well, he was on a leash that a nice elderly lady was holding. Two out of my three children are terrified of dogs. As the lady was explaining to us, "This doggie is very nice. She is a therapy dog," I had my 4 year old daughter climbing up my leg and my 2 year old backing into me screaming, "EWWWWW, EWWWWW doggie." And I DO mean SCREAMING! I don't really know why he was saying, "Ewww," as opposed to just crying but he was.....and he was LOUD.....and it was embarrassing.

If only I had known that this was only the beginning. We should have gracefully (yeah right) made our exit right then.

Luke's eyes lit up when he saw the book shelves. Actually, it was not the books that excited him; it was the aisles between the book shelves. Those wide open spaces just looked perfect for running.

Zachary was off to look for a book on reptiles.

Emilie asked me to ask the librarian to help her find a book on princesses. As the librarian tried to help us (to no avail), Luke decided to run around and knock books onto the ground. I was trying not to be rude to the librarian but I kept trying to get away so that I could catch Luke but she just kept talking and talking about how she "just could not believe that there was not one book about a princess in the library." Yeah, yeah we gotta go!

I hear another librarian say sweetly, "There is no running in the library." As Luke goes streaking by. I really wanted to defend myself and say, "You know what? I already told him that and I would really like to spank him because he disobeyed but I am afraid that you will call the police. And that is why I am talking in my fake nice voice to my child and glaring at him....it is so that he and I can go home together where I can discipline in private."

Then Emilie says that she has to go to the bathroom so I grab Luke and take him with us and tell Zachary that he can look at his books.

As Emilie is going potty, I give Luke a lecture. "Luke, you need to stay next to mommy. You cannot run around. You cannot pull books off of the shelves. STAY RIGHT NEXT TO ME!"
He sweetly says, "Ok mommy, I stay next to you."

As I turn around to help Emilie, he grabs the handle on the bathroom door and starts yelling VERY LOUDLY and jiggling it around. He must have unlocked it because a lady pulled the door open and was ready to save this child in distress. She was surprised to find me standing there with my two children. She apologized for walking in but I am sure she was thinking, "That lady needs to control that kid!"

When I left Zachary, he had found 2 books about snakes so I told the kids that it was time to go look for a book for mommy. Emilie had about 8 books so we had about all we could carry. (A good mommy would have brought her "Library Bag." Whatever.) Zachary declares that he is "done" with his books and now wants to put them back and pick out some others. Through clenched teeth, I help him pick out 2 books about Sharks. Let's go!

As we walk out of the Children's Room and enter the main library, Zachary decides to become a spy. He weaves through the book shelves and jumps from one aisle to the next, always keeping an eye on me but I could not see him. So I am hissing, "Zachary, come here. I want you to be right next to me." He would jump out for a moment just so I could see where he was but then he was off again. Ok people, this is my (almost) six year old! I could not believe how horribly he was behaving.

Well, Luke thought this was awesome. He decided to run after Zachary and try to find him. When I caught up to him, I grabbed his hand and said, "Luke, you need to hold mommy's hand." He said, "Noooooo." And tried to wriggle away from me. So I had to use the "death grip" and try to hold his hand without crushing it. That was when he began to sob.

Ok, forget mommy's book. Let's find Zachary and get out of here. We go to the self check-out. I scan my library card. WHAT?! I owe $21.75 in late fees! Aughrrr!

So we have to go to the Accounts Counter to pay our bill before we check out. Luke decides to crawl around on the floor and yell, "wah, wah," pretending that he is a baby. I tell him to get up and stand next to me and he does NOT so I quietly "discipline" him. He yells, "Owww, don't pinch me, mommy." And starts to cry.

The man who is taking my check says, "You've got your hands full." Oh, how I just love it when people say that. REALLY? YOU THINK SO???

I was trying to think of an appropriate punishment for Zachary's bad behavior. I considered not letting him check out his two books. But then I felt guilty because I knew that we would not be coming back to the library for a VERY LONG TIME.....like, years. So, I settled on letting him check the books out but he was not allowed to have them until tomorrow. Yeah, I know.....I am a weanie.

I do have to say that Emilie was very well behaved. That girl does have her moments but thankfully, she made some good choices while we were at the library. If she had joined her brothers on their "Team Obnoxious," I probably would have had to call CPS on myself.

So, we finally made it to the car where I told Zachary how disappointed I was in his behavior (all the while, Emilie chiming in "Mommy, I was good, wasn't I? I stayed right with you, didn't I? I listened to you, right mommy?"). Next, I gave Luke a 2 year old version of the same speech.

Going to the library is a bit like childbirth for me. It is excruciatingly painful at the time but then as time passes, I forget the pain and do it all over again. I vow to remember. No thank you on both accounts: library visits and childbirth.

Let's Get Real

This is the home of a self-professed clean-freak:














What you don't see: pee in the potty seat.



This is what my kitchen counter looks like....on a regular basis.



My desk is cluttered with all of the things I am intending to work on.

I am so tired of cleaning up messes! One of the hardest things about being a stay-at-home mom is going to bed at night without a sense of accomplishment. It seems like one hundred percent of what I do each day is undone within minutes.

Make breakfast, clean up. Make snack, clean up. Make lunch, clean up. Make another snack, clean up. Make dinner, clean up.

Take off diaper, put underwear on, clean up poopy underwear and poopy bottom. Forget to put on new underwear, clean up poop off of the floor and poopy bottom. Try again with a clean pair of underwear......or give up and put a diaper on. (I am referring to my 2 year old.....in case there is some confusion.)

Wash clothes, fold clothes, put away clothes. Repeat 100 million times.

Pick up toys, put away toys. Tell kids to "go play with your toys," then....pick up toys, put away toys.

Right now it is 8 o'clock on a Tuesday evening. My house is a mess. I did clean up (many times) today....but I have not done "the final cleaning" and I DON'T WANT TO! But I know that I will pay for it in the morning. The only thing worse than going to bed with a messy house is waking up to a messy house.

As I sit here writing, my husband says, "Don't you have other things you should be doing?" He is right. And I say so. "Yes, there are ALWAYS other things I should be doing." Which is why I have not written a post on this blog in 6 weeks!

A few months ago, I spoke to our MOPS group about keeping a clean and organized home. I have thought about that many times as I have looked around my messy house. I think, "If they could see my house now!" So, girls.....here is your chance.

I will try to rest in the fact that it will be clean again.....probably, even tomorrow.

Although, it seems like a daunting task at this time of night.

I am comforted by the fact that many of you are right there with me. We are cleaning and breaking up fights and wiping bottoms and putting away loads of laundry and praying for patience.....together.

Typical....

I decided when I woke up this morning that I am not going to the gym today and I am not going to feel guilty about it.

My plan was to take Zachary to kindergarten and then come home with Emilie and Luke to work around the house. My two lofty goals were to complete (wash, dry, fold and put away) two loads of laundry and vacuum the entire house.

It is my belief that children (at least, my children) were put here to thwart my plans.

The second we walk in the door, Emilie wants to change her clothes. She takes off her warm leggings and long-sleeved shirt in favor of a sheer, pink ballet skirt thingie and a tiny white camisole.

I can't stand when she does this because she has to change back into normal clothes when it is time to go get Zachary.....which is only a few short hours away.

I plug in the vacuum. She comes to get me, "Mom, my door is locked." Yep, it sure is. I get the screw driver out of the garage to take the door knob off. I am mad. This is not on my to-do list. The door knob won't come off.....it is hanging by the screws. My friend calls and advises me to use a paper clip to unlock the door. It doesn't work. My sister calls and says to use a bobby pin. It doesn't work. I call Matt for advice. I hear him answer his phone - meaning, I hear people talking in the background. Then I hear, "click" and then silence. Ok, I guess he will be of no help to me.

I decide to give up and worry about it later. Back to vacuuming.

The noise scares Luke (or so I think) and he hides under the kitchen table. Moments later, I think, "What stinks?" It is then I notice Luke pulling his pants and underwear off. "I go poop," he tells me. Great....

I take him to his little potty where he finishes the job and then clean him up.

I walk in the direction of the vacuum cleaner....."Mom....." WHAT????? Now, they are hungry. Can they have gum? No. A mint? No. Milk? Yes.

I go out to the garage to put one load of laundry in the dryer. My plans to start the 'darks' are interrupted by the clothes that Luke was wearing when he had his accident. I decide to wash those separtely before I start what was intended to be my 'second load.'

As I go back to the living room to finish vacuuming, Matt calls. I tell him the problem. He tries to help me over the phone - to no avail. He is shocked when I scream at Emilie and Luke "Shush! Be quiet! Just get out of here!" He laughingly tells his coworker that his wife is screaming at the kids. Oh yes, isn't it funny when you are not the one dealing with them.....

He gives up on me and tells me to just "dress Emilie in Zachary's clothes." What about nap time? What about time outs? What about "just go play in your room!" I need her door OPEN! I need her room to be AVAILABLE.

I figure out that if I take Zachary's door knob off, I can use it to open Emilie's door (yes, I did mangage to get her door knob off - but still could not get the door to open). So, now I have screws and door knobs scattered about and Luke thinks he is Handy Manny and wants to play with everything.

I open Emilie's door. I put Zachary's door knob back on. But now I cannot get Emilie's door knob to line up correctly to put the screws back in. Forget it! I gather the screws and knobs and put everything on the kitchen counter for Matt to deal with tonight.

I realize that if anyone shuts Emilie's door, I will have to take Zachary's door knob off again in order to open it. I instruct Luke and Emilie not to shut the door. Yeah, right. I am counting the minutes until I will be kneeling in front of her door to remedy the problem.....again.

The laundry is not done. It sits wrinkled in the dryer. The house is not vacuumed....except for about one-fourth of the living room.

It is time to go get Zachary.

Typical.

Down....but not out!

Somehow, I managed to hurt my back. It has been about a week now. The pain started in my right wrist, moved up my arm to my neck, down my back and has decided to make its home under my right shoulder blade.

My friend, who is a Physical Therapist, had a look at it four days ago. I happened to be at his house because his wife and I were hosting a dessert for the MOPS leadership at our church. I weaseled my way into a personal training session before I left their house.

The problem with Physical Therapists is that they don't give a lot of sympathy. But they do like to give homework.

I am supposed to ice my back a few times a day. I am also supposed to lay on a rolled up towel (because a don't have a 'ball') and do a few stretching exercises throughout the day. I was excited to hear that I should not exercise in a way that would strain my back.....but then he told me that working out on the treadmill was fine. Bummer!

He thinks I have a Damaged Nerve Root. Of course, I Googled this.....and I must say, this diagnosis sounds right on.

Every time I lay on the floor to do my "homework," Luke thinks it is time to jump on my knees to play "Flying Superman." Zachary and Emilie also seem to want to climb all over me. It is not often that my children see me on the floor (unless I am trying to get to some discarded food item under the kitchen table).

Writing this post has seemed to intensify my back pain. To describe the pain, all that comes to mind is that someone jabbed me in the shoulder blade with a screw driver. And then left it there.

So.....I will stop writing now.


p.s. I also have a cold (as do my three children and husband)......feel sorry for me.....please!