My Best Mother's Day Yet

Yesterday was wonderful. But not for the usual reasons. You might get an insight into my insanity here, so sorry if it's too much transparency... you can stop reading if you want!

I woke up, or, was woken up, at some time that started with a six.  Anything that starts with a six does not get to be considered sleeping in. I woke up to the combination of REALLY LOUD WHISPERS! and a toddler crawling over my head to sit at the top of my pillow. I knew that I was not suitably perky and gushy while I opened my gift of chocolates and a gift card for a pedicure, although I'm pretty sure if I'd had coffee first, I would have done a lot better.

After giving the smily-est and gushiest thanks I could manage, the offspring all disappeared downstairs to make breakfast, while I laid in bed a bit longer. I came downstairs a few minutes later to absolute chaos.

Brian had planned a beautiful breakfast. Waffles with strawberry-blueberry sauce and whipped cream, eggs, coffee and orange juice. The only problem? He didn't know how to make the fruit sauce or the whipped cream, and he had three kids trying really hard to help, and the dog, well she just wants to be where the action is, right?

Now, my husband is really, really good at a lot of things. Math. Science. Building things. Cleaning really thoroughly. Multi-tasking? Not so much. He was already frustrated and starting to panic, so I asked if I could help.

I delegated jobs to the kids and helped, and breakfast was put on the table, and we all sat down to an excellent meal in short order.

Now here's where I get all transparent on you. A couple years ago, in a random conversation, Brian told me he thought he could do my job just as well as I do it; this being a stay-at-home parent thing. That was the most hurtful thing he's ever said to me. It makes me cry now just to think of that moment, and how devalued I felt.

Logically, I know he was thinking of the list of things I do. Laundry, dishes, cleaning, cooking, etc. Absolutely, he is capable of doing all of those things, and doing them well. It doesn't take any special skill to run down an itemized list, and tick things off. 

It was the things he can't see, and no amount of explaining can communicate. I teach these kids. Completely apart from homeschooling, I'm teaching them life skills, manners, how to related to each other, how to think for themselves. All those chores on the list? I'm teaching them those, too. Being a parent is so much more than keeping children alive and entertained while simultaneously doing the dishes.

And then there's this: I am constantly, CONSTANTLY assessing each of my kids.  What do they need to know? What comes next? What needs focus now, and what is a  non-issue? Where do I teach, and where do I let them figure it out on their own? And the answer is different for each one, each time.

This is my calling. And I think I do a pretty decent job of it. I wouldn't ever presume I could excel as an engineer because I can build furniture from Ikea. That's how it felt.

I should say that Brian is no slacker parent. He loves our kids to the depth of his soul, and they know it. He plays with them, he disciplines them, he loves on them. But the day to day life? That's my arena.

So back to Mother's Day breakfast. We sat down, and a few minutes into our meal, when all was calm, and seconds were being dished out, I asked him if he still thought he could do it as well as I do (to be totally honest, I claimed a Mother's Day Prerogative!).

He thought for a moment, and said no. He said that trying to juggle several different dishes with three helpers and a dog underfoot... well, he couldn't do it.

While I know this little situation was just that, one little stressful moment in time, it was also a microcosm of my life. Spinning plates and teaching, all at the same time.

His acknowledgment changed EVERYTHING. 

What I do, it's special. It require skill and practice. I work hard to do it well. Sometimes I do it really badly!

And he sees it.

The rest of the day was beautiful. Even the parts that weren't perfect.

Thinking...

I feel like lately I start every spoken deep thought with, "I don't know if I can articulate this properly, but..."


So.  I don't know if I can articulate this properly, but...

I've been thinking about parents parenting differently.  I suppose more basely, about being judgmental.

For the purposes of this post, please know that I am thinking only of the impact of parenting, and not at all of kids' personalities.   

Brian and I want so badly to raise well behaved, godly children.  I want my kids to be articulate, thoughtful, intentional in their relationships.  But too often, I find myself parenting to avoid things.  I don't want my kids to do that, behave like that.

And the thought keeps occurring to me are those kids any less likely to know Jesus because they are allowed to behave that way?  Or, conversely, is the standard of behavior we expect going to impact whether or not our kids know Jesus?

Obviously, I don't know the answer. 

We probably won't relax our standards.  And really, that's not even what this is about; it's more the idea that every parent parents differently.  Brian and I parent differently.  My kids will turn out with a very distinct set of strengths and weaknesses, the particular combination of which will be different from any other parents' kids.  And I only have it in me to cover the things I can cover.  There are going to be things that I miss, or just do completely wrong.  And there are things I will do really well; the things that I focus on because they're important to me.

So I guess I'm glad that we all do it differently, that we discipline, educate and relate differently. 

I wouldn't want my kids to face a world full of people who share the same difficulties or talents.  We are a community, and we need the differences to function, since none of us are, you know, God. 

And my oft-uttered closing:  Did that make any sense?

Or are there major flaws in my reasoning?  (come on, let me hear it!)

Thoughts

I've been following a blog for the last few weeks of a woman who lost her baby, her fourth son, to pertussis.  He was less than two months old.

I hurt for her.  I pray for her.  I cry at her very real pain. She doesn't know I exist, and I wouldn't know her from Adam if I ran into her on the sidewalk.

Brian asks me why I read it.  Why do I read things that don't really effect me, except to cause sadness?

And I suppose that the short answer is it could be me.  That's probably terribly selfish.  But if I were this mom, I would want to know that people were hurting with me, standing with me, holding me up.  I am blessed to live in a time and place in which I don't see death, or even pain, every day.  I know it's out there, but it's not here.  But it could be.  It could be my children, my family.  And someday, it probably will.  As much as I hate the thought, I don't suppose I'm going to get through my life without the sin that is in this world touching my family. 

I hope that if (and when) it happens, I can respond with the grace that this mama has. 

Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

I Want One! (totally squealed in a mature voice... not the one I keep telling my children we don't use!)

My friend Rachel wrote a post about Amber Teething Necklaces on her blog over at Euphoria Maternity. I've never heard of them before, but the idea sounds really neat. I'm writing this in order to enter a contest to win one, and also to ask if you've ever heard of such a thing.

I like the idea of healing and soothing properties. It's fascinating to me that for thousands of years people have had alternative ways of dealing with many of the same issues and discomforts we have now. I wonder if they sleep trained their kids, 'cause I could sure use some advice there!

I wonder how my boy's daddy will feel about him wearing a necklace if we win? And also, will he drool more or less? 'Cause we have a perpetual puddle around here!

So, have you ever heard of/seen a teething necklace?

Are you religious?

Last week at my Bible Study, our group had an interesting conversation about being called "religious". We talked about how using that word to a Christian is sort of a big ol' flag that tells you the other person was not brought up in the church. We also spoke briefly about when people say, "I'm spiritual". I would love to start asking people who tell me that what it means to them to be "spiritual". These words have such a negative connotation within the church, as though the person asking if one is religious is really asking, "are you a pharisee? are you a hypocrite?" (which they most likely aren't)

As I've spent the last week thinking about that conversation, I've come to realize I am religious. There are parts of the daily practice of my faith that really don't have much to do with relationship with God. For instance, frequently, when we have finished our prayer before dinner I think was God really glorified by that? What if we had just said, "rub-a-dub-dub, thanks for the grub... yay GOD!"

I guess it really comes back to the meaning of the original question. “Are you religious?” Coming from someone who is fairly new to the faith, or not a part of it, who doesn’t know that our hackles rise just because they use the wrong word, how would I answer? Ultimately, I want to be able to be confident of my answer, whatever it is. And maybe, the connotation really doesn’t matter at all. Yes, I am. I love Jesus. I try to honor him in my actions. I’m a work in progress, but he loves me.

A real Conversation!

Today I got a special treat. My friend Nina came over with her girls, and the kids entertained themselves for 30 or 40 minutes without interrupting us! We must have completed three different conversation during that time (we have all our conversations in fast forward, it seems, in order to complete a thought). It was definitely a sign that the kids are growing up.

A wonderful lady from church made a comment a few weeks ago that she had forgotten the feeling of never finishing a conversation; my response was, "they come back?!"

It seems that there is hope for us to "get all our words out" someday!