5 Controversial New Year Resolutions for parents

(Writer's update… this article had every intention of being finished and published by January 5th.  Well, there went that date… in a blur….  
But I believe so passionately about this topic I wanted to share it with you, regardless of when it made it  onto your screen because I think it has power to change our perspective… and a future generation.  I hope you enjoy…..)

A lot of people love New Year resolutions.  They get all fired up… make a list… write it on their mirror to remind themselves… post it on Facebook and every other media outlet and then bust into the gym (usually this is the first resolution) with brand new workout gear on only to injure a body part and call it a day.

(Image courtesy of Bodybuilding.com)

You could really substitute the gym for dieting, saving money, being nicer, etc.  Some people say they don't make resolutions because they set goals.  Same thing… now we are just arguing semantics.

But this year something really stirred in me over the holidays and I must confess that I was moved by either righteous anger, righteous disgust or righteous anxiety; none of which are states of mind I want to be in.  So, without further ado, I crossed a line in the sand (yet again) and resolved to make a list of changes I was going to implement in 2014.  (You see how I avoided the words "resolution" or "goal?" What can I say, I'm one stubborn woman.)

I feel a disclaimer is needed for the remainder of my words.  If you continue reading this, please know you may find yourself offended, rolling your eyes or even indignant.  Sorry… I suppose you can conclude that I'm either not writing to you, I'm totally foolish OR I've hit a nerve and you aren't quite ready to deal with it.  The truth is that I'm writing this to the people I hope will feel utterly liberated to join me on this quest… casting aside some of the absurdities that we've taken on in this fast-paced culture…throwing them into the landfill of unhealthy patterns and freeing ourselves up to do what is truly important.

Ready?  

1. I will limit my child's screen time.  I will be the first to take away a device as a tool for "consequences" (aka: punishment, restriction, correction)  I will request that all media devices never leave my living room, are never viewed in private or are taken to sleepovers.   I will disable  internet… Google works just fine on our home computer in our kitchen.  I will not allow applications on my child's phone just because everyone else has them.  I will audit my child's phone at any given time.  Just as pro athletes are drug tested at random, so shall my child's device.  I WILL NOT PLAY SECOND FIDDLE TO A DEVICE THAT MUST BE TURNED ON.

Give. No GIMME!

How do we create givers?  It starts with us.

Man I hate that answer.  More work for me as a mom.  I’m thinking, “Haven’t I already given you LIFE?  Fed you?  Bathed you? (well, most the time.)  Taught you how to tie a shoe, even if it meant we missed the bus...for two weeks in a row?” 

So when I hear that there is one more thing for me to focus on, I sigh.  We all know there is no amount of talking a child into giving.  Threatening?  Perhaps.  A 5-minute diatribe on starving children in Africa?  Usually unsuccessful.  

We have to model giving.  And there is no better opportunity to model giving than to our children; we give knowing they cannot repay us.  (Except the one son that will let me move in with him when I am senile and wrinkled...but other than that, you get my heart on this, right?)  We will give 127 times to our children before they give back.  If you don’t have a child, think of a cat.  If you own a cat, you spend all this time feeding it, grooming it, picking up it’s poop out of a box filled with smelly pebbles and what do you get in return?  Some leg rubs when he/she feels like interacting with you and receiving more of your love.  That’s the best example I can give you when we’re talking about the giving ratio of a child.  (If I were talking about love I would give you a dog... if you know me, I own NEITHER... I have children to pet and eventually I don’t have to pick up their poop.)

Giving isn’t always about dollar bills and shiny bows.  Sure, we live in a culture that bombards us with materialism which is somehow morphed into the premise of giving.  How many of us have given your child the VERY thing they begged for, or hoped for… only to seen it tossed aside and forgotten about just 3 days later?  Trust me, this family has a long way to go when it comes to giving.  Read my post about last year's "ungiving" tree to get an idea of what we're dealing with at my house!

The point is, that giving of any resource is the key.  Your love.  Your time. Your energy.  Your wisdom.  Your advice.  It’s the purity of your thought behind the giving that is instilled in your child’s heart forever. 

We don’t give with the end in mind; we give out of love.  I don’t run into a lot of women who introduce their children and then tell me, “Yeah, I had them so they could take care of cleaning the kitchen.”  I am just NOW entering a season where my 10-year-old provides exceptional labor assistance... I have just NOW passed the torch on lugging in the empty garbage cans, emptying the bathroom trash and sorting laundry.  (If you aren’t there ladies... just wait... it’s coming.  And if you have a girl... I’m sure it will come earlier.)  

We give with pure intentions; to demonstrate and model the art of giving.  

Because God gives to us.  Daily.  

“For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.”  -John 3:16

What resource do you love to give the most?  What is the hardest thing to give?  Why do you think the latter is hard for you?

The story of M & M, according to a 4 year old

I'm not a morning person.

Period.

The funny thing is, I'm really not a late night person either.  I suppose I'm kind of a 8-5 kind of gal.  By 8 am I've had two cups of dark coffee and by about five in the afternoon, I'm ready for my hubby to come home and take the reins.

God just sees our limitations and laughs.  He probably has a 6-pack of abs from laughing at me up from Heaven...I just give him so much material... jeesh.  So in spite of my "bear of a personality" morning disposition, he blesses me with a 3rd child who is a morning person.

More like a Rooster.

The world's lightest sleeper, up one minute before any alarm and happy as a clam... ready to go.. up and adam.  He's no match for my flesh until I've had a good cup of caffeine.  And even then, I'm a slow roll.... beginning with a bear wakening from hibernation to a somewhat functioning adult.

Which means that when HE wakes up with his brothers at 6:25 a.m., we end up together from 7:10 am after the bus departs from our street all the way until 9am when his preschool starts.  Precious time... I know... I know... but lets face it moms, when you finally have a child in preschool you've already HAD PLENTY of precious moments with your child.  So, nearly 2 hours with a full-burst four year old doesn't exactly make for "time-flying-by" mornings.  Sure, we've developed routines; making banana bread, 17 games of Uno, coloring, etc.  I would be lying if I didn't tell you I wasn't fully caught up on the lives of the Little Einsteins as well.

But, I do try and make sure we begin our time together by snuggling on the couch and reading out of my son's Beginner Bible.  It's a multitude of wins for us; more couch time for me to suck down a cup of coffee, getting my mind set on the word of God (because clearly there is not much in there at 6:20 am) and to ensure my son is getting HIS mind in perspective.

(Better than a bookmark... a cup of caffeine to read the word of God)

I don't care if he's four or not... it's never too early to instill the word of God...Kingdom principles... miracles of Jesus and most importantly... I want his identity to be rooted in truth because his mama is going to mess it up... repeatedly... and I want him to know Jesus's love never fails.


My 4-year old has also been reading since he turned 3 so I use this as time for him to read to me.  I usually can't find my glasses this early in the morning either, so it all works out.  He just loves the old testament stories- don't all little boys?  Today, however, I decided to break open the new testament and it landed on Mary & Martha.  My son wanted nothing to do with a story about two girls in a kitchen but I promised him the story of Jericho if he would listen to Mary & Martha first.

Deal.

For those of you not familiar with the story, let me give you the Cliff Notes version.  I realize this dates me because they aren't even called that anymore but ROLL WITH ME PEEPS....

"There were two sisters, Mary & Martha, who were friends with Jesus.  (They also had a brother Lazarus.) Jesus announced he was coming over to visit and upon his arrival, Martha got very busy preparing for his visit and making a meal.  Even though they were friends, they knew him as the Messiah and so of course it was a big deal that he was coming over.  When Jesus arrived he sat down in the living room and began to chat with the people in the house.  Martha was in and out of the kitchen, feverishly working to cook (no microwave or Trader Joe's appetizers available) and ensure the table was set properly.  Her younger sister Mary, sat at Jesus feet and just enjoyed the conversation.  Big sister Martha just about blows a gasket in frustration and finally pipes up to Jesus, "Hey, can you tell Mary to get off her tush and help me out?  Can't you see I'm sweating it out in here by myself?"  Jesus responds, "Martha.... you don't need to stress out.  Mary is actually the one who has this figured out."

Now, if you are really into theology and biblical studies, you may want to read the actual scriptures which can be found in Luke 10:38-42 (I like the New Living Translation version linked here... it's written how we would talk today;  too many "thous" and "thy's" rev up my boredom factor.

My son and I finish the story and before I give him the satisfaction of Jericho, I ask him what he thought the story of Mary & Martha meant.  His answer nearly blew me off my cushion.

"If you are too busy you won't be able to hear what Jesus is saying."

Well, that will do it.  A 4-year old is breaking down the very message of that story in a way I have never heard it explained.  Oh sure, I have always identified with Martha:

• I'm a "doer"... and "doers" are movers and shakers.
• I'm Martha...I'm responsible, resourceful... people won't eat if I'm not in there making it (or heating it up out of the package.)
• I'm the one who gets stuff done... I can't sit down... Mary is going to be living at home forever...she has no drive or ambition.

But for my child (remember, God calls us to have "child-like faith") to simply point out that when we get too busy, we can't hear Jesus talk.  Wow.

I've really wrestled with this over the course of this week.  As many of you know, I threw my back out over a week ago (thankfully just 2 protruded/bulging discs and so I'm back to rehab today) but for the last 7 days I've been horizontal and in a bit of a pain-killer haze.  Instead of just getting silent and still... I've filled my time w/ catching up on past seasons of favorite shows, googling like crazy and of course.. a lot of sleeping.  Now I'm not chastising myself, but I'm pointing out the obvious...

Graphic by: Natalie Ryder Design

This is not my default choice.  This was not Martha's default.  Please don't misunderstand the point of my message... it's actually one that should inspire us.  If you are a Martha... ROCK your Martha... plan the best parties, post on Pinterest, create.... do... serve... move... make it happen!!!!

Just know... and take my son's advice... "We can't always hear God when we're moving and shaking." Sometimes we need to stop.  Get in the room where God is speaking and listen.  

It reminds me of my middle son who gets so frustrated when he misses a question on a test because he didn't slow down to read all the way through the problem.  When we slow down, we allow our brain to rest; it's at those times, God can speak the loudest.  How many of you get your best ideas in the shower?  Because as moms, its the ONLY TIME BESIDES PEEING THAT WE GET PEACE AND QUIET!!!

So dear Marthas..... tell me one way you can slow down to hear God's beautiful voice today?  He might want to give you the answer to prayer you've been waiting for... the perfect solution to a problem you've been wrestling with.... inspiration for your next project.... whatever it is- tell me about it here and share your thoughts with the rest of us.  I'm so thankful you will.

Preschool Pollution

You would think by now that I would have known this was coming.

After all, I have three precious boys and all three of them have completed the blessed rite of passage into childhood....

If you have heard me speak before at a conference or Mother's group, you'll remember very clearly, why I support preschool.  You see, I write a check to a wonderful organization each month so that my boys will have a loving environment for a few hours each day.  

Because mom is done.

D-O-N-E.

Done making homemade playdoh, done with Diego Memory Games, done making the stuffed animals talk over and over and over again.  I mean, I don't mind getting down on the floor, but c'mon... I've been doing this since the kiddo needed tummy time!  I've been living my life in 15 minute increments- ensuring my child was properly stimulated, kept safe, learning his ABC's and preparing for standardized testing for THREE YEARS NOW.  Give the mom a break!

I think Preschool is a way better return on investment than mommy and baby therapy sessions at the family psychatrist.  And without preschool, that's exactly where we might end up!

In fact, when we found out we would be relocating to Austin, TX this summer, my first two google searches were "Homes for Sale in Austin" and "preschools near Steiner Ranch."  No joke.

And so it goes, the first day of preschool for my last child.  I'm early.  We're ready.  I've had the day circled on the calendar.  (You might be thinking "calloused, cold mama".... but at least I'm honest.)  You same people should be relieved to know that I cried like a baby as soon as I walked into my staff meeting at Expression Church that morning.  Okay, so it only lasted 5 minutes and it wasn't "blow your nose worthy" crying but there were definitely alligator tears.  I mean... this was my last, first day of preschool!!!!

So we've been grooving at preschool for about a month now... and it's my son's favorite part of the day to greet his teacher.  Thank goodness the second favorite thing to do is run into my arms when it's over!  So far, I've consistently impressed with what preschool teachers can draw out of youngsters this age.  How they memorize new songs, learn to hold scissors without taking out an eye and get along with 12 other mini-human strangers blows my mind.  Truly, preschool teachers are a gift from God!

Well... all was going well and then it happened.

If you have had a preschooler before you know what is coming next.

My child has been polluted.

By other children.

Ugh.

You know what I'm talking about.  Preschool is just as much academic as it is learning how to navigate this big world on a social level.  And that means you are going to be exposed to different children who come from different families and just do things differently.  So our sheltered little kiddos get sent off from our small, isolated worlds of the house and wham!, they are exposed to all the cultures, values and habits of other children.  Which, can be a great thing.  But not always.

First my son came home with the "defy authority" habit.  He smacks his fist on the table and tells me that I'm "making him so mad."  If you know me at all, it made me laugh at first because it was so out of character- but it was promptly dealt with and it really only lasted 2 days.

Then we had the sudden speech issue because we wanted to be just like our friend at school.  I had to explain that God was still teaching our new friend how to say her letters but that WE were going to use our words to help her along.  (My middle son took 6 years to pronounce his "L's" correctly, which was fine and I was used to it.  But to go "backwards" and have your child come home talking like Ming-Ming on the Wonder Pets was like nails on a chalkboard!)

Yesterday's gift was my child deciding he was only going to talk like a dog... just like his other new friend at school.  I have no more words to say about this subject.

Today as I was getting some much needed, often too distracted from, quiet time (what does that even mean anymore, right?) I decided to read Ephesians in my bible.  I love the message Bible, btw... tell it how it is, Hey-Seus.  

Anyhoo... ( I can tell my blood sugar is getting low, I'm getting random.)

I came across a passage that resonated with me:

Ephesians 2:1-6

 "It wasn’t so long ago that you were mired in that old stagnant life of sin. You let the world, which doesn’t know the first thing about living, tell you how to live. You filled your lungs with polluted unbelief, and then exhaled disobedience. We all did it, all of us doing what we felt like doing, when we felt like doing it, all of us in the same boat. It’s a wonder God didn’t lose his temper and do away with the whole lot of us. Instead, immense in mercy and with an incredible love, he embraced us. He took our sin-dead lives and made us alive in Christ. He did all this on his own, with no help from us! Then he picked us up and set us down in highest heaven in company with Jesus, our Messiah."

At first, it really reminded me of my son at preschool.  It's like his little body took in this polluted air of defiance, of speech difficulty, etc., and exhaled disobedience.  And c'mon, let's be real... it's not like I'm up here preaching that my son was a runner up for the Messiah and now he's walking around as the towne square bully.  No, not at all... but he fell subject to a world that isn't perfect... he took it all in... and kept some of it for himself.  He "tried on" what other kids were wearing to see how it would work for him.

But this is what really struck me.....

We do it too.  Whether we are followers of Christ or not.

We allow the world to fill up our lungs and we exhale it's impurities.  I'm not going to name what air you are breathing in... because it's different for all of us.

For me personally, I find it all too easy to take in the act of gossiping and judgement.  It goes on all around me, church attendee or not, Christian or not.  I find myself assimilating towards it; pretty soon, I've adopted it... just as easy as my son coming home and barking instead of talking!  Sometimes it's as easy as just doing whatever I "felt" like... (see passage above.)  How many times do I so easily fall into the snare of watching others lavishly shop beyond their means, talk down their husbands or watch inappropriate movies... and then think that it is okay to do that myself???

Friends, beware of the enemy who stalks around like a lion, seeking to destroy!  His best ploy is sneakiness.  You remember the tree of life, right?

He lies!

So don't think you are safe from the oxygen of the world.... of "culture."  Don't chalk it up to something like, "It's just the way it is these days" or "I want my kids (substitute yourself) to fit in."

In His love... he shows us mercy and envelops us in His embrace.  Resist air from any other Source! Drink in THAT oxygen and be refreshed today.


Hey, would love to hear from you!  Please leave a comment if that spoke to you...share with a friend or leave me a comment if YOU have one of those great preschool "pollution" experiences!

Two things bad roots and big bags taught me

Oh wait, it's just Thursday.

Come to think of it, why would I "TGIF," even if it was a Friday?

Friday isn't really too different from any other weekday.  Up at 6:21 a.m. via my iPhone alarm; bleary eyed, I head to the kitchen for shift #1:

Coffee into cup.  Add creamer.  Add more creamer.  Sip.  Peel eyes open. Check.

Quiet time w/ Jesus.  (Consists of 2nd sip of coffee and out -loud prayer. "Jesus, help me this morning.")  Check.

Wake two "would rather not be woken" children out of deep sleep.  Listen to general sounds of malaise and discontent about being woken at ungodly hour.  Check.

Greet my preschooler who has absolutely no authorization to be up so early (what human can survive the world at 4 years of age on just 9 hours of sleep?) from the stairs as he sing-songs at volume LOUD, "Good morning mom!  It's 6-3-0 on my clock!"  Check.

Cook 3 breakfasts, prepare 3 variation of lunches (because 3 the human beings I grew have absolutely no food commonalities.)  Check.

One, two, three, FOUR reminders of homework in backpacks, water bottles filled, permission slips signed, shoes located, (trust me, I have bins... you just gotta USE them.)  Check.

Kisses, prayers and send two offspring out the door.  Exhale.  Check.

It doesn't really matter if it's a Friday or not.  I'm exhausted writing out my morning routine.  Don't get me started on my Saturdays.  Three boys?  Living in the land of middle-class suburbia where playing just ONE sport makes them highly unusual already?  No, our Saturdays are the epitome of "minivan shuttle service" which also provides complimentary laundering service, complimentary beverages and snacks, not to mention psychological encouragement, coaching and every so often, first-responder or basic first-aid responsibilities.  That, is on a day we're NOT volunteering for one of the teams.  (Is it sad that my husband and I both volunteered to announce our son's recent football game just so we could get some time together?)

Now I'm really exhausted as I proofread this and realize how many "lines in the sand" I've stepped... I mean PLOWED across at 65mph in my mini-van (a line in the sand itself.)

So, even if it's not a TGIF, it's another day in the life of a stay at home mom... who's primary responsibility of running the family's home is busy, to say the least.  I didn't even drop the info bomb about our hot water tank "failing" and dumping 300 gallons of water in our attic crawl space and garage below.  Did you know that drywall dust is very, very fine and gets EVERYWHERE?????

To think my husband just got the whole garage organized... now it's all loaded in a POD parked in our driveway.  :)

Onward....

I meant for this to be short...OBVIOUSLY I have some pent up feelings today... but I"m hoping just one of you have been here before and handled it better than me?

After my hair stylist and lunch date cancelled on me within 20 minutes of each other... I was bummed out this morning.  You saw my morning... I mean, where are MY Mary Jane's?  Where's MY milk and cookies?  Oh yeah, mom's have servant hearts.  Yes... yes I do.  But it's also just fine to look forward to sitting for 2 hours and having someone touch your hair that doesn't want a snack or sex, right?  Sure I gotta pay for it... but the two hours is worth it and ON TOP OF THAT I get 7 weeks of pretending I have blonde hair.  A hair-stylist that can't reschedule for another week may as well be like someone deliberately popping your child's balloon at the midway of the state fair.

Traumatizing.

Then my lunch date cancelled.  Big bummer.  Food?  Prepared?  Without having to clean up?  Total treat!  Big people convo?  Priceless.  Now, like my balloon analogy... my own lip is quivering as I fight the pity party I can feel welling up inside of me.

Pity turns to fuming.  It's like my hairdresser and friend know each other.  Really... two dates canceling in 20 minutes?  I bet THEIR going to go and have lunch.  That is just so mean.  So rude.  So.......

Wait.  What am I going to do... I've go two choices; Tailgate at the pity party or make some lemonade?

So what do I do?

Provide the BBQ and tent, of course!  I look in the mirror... I see lots of mud-colored hair... matted flat to my head from the rush of the morning shift.  I peer in closer and see the Louis-Vitton tote-bag-sized bags that have formed under my eyes.  (Sponsored in part by a dear four year old who not only needs just 9 hours of sleep but is having massive nightmares in this phase of life.)  The pounding headache is back, reminding me that indeed, I was up every 55 minutes for most of the night and that now, with this amount of REM sleep, or lack thereof, I will need to cancel my plans to join friends at a NW Wine Social at their club.  (Another  cat's meow for any mom who lives in Lycra and tenny-runners all day AND happens to LOVE fermented grapes from the NW.)

I can almost smell the BBQ at the pity party tailgate.  I have two options.  Continue down this rabbit hole or remind myself of the truth?

Having chased the rabbit down the hole several times, I realize my crossroads look familiar and decide to take a right turn... down truth lane.

LESSON #1: (for you note-takers) We don't HAVE to live this way.

What do I mean?

I don't have to spend time wallowing in my situation.  I don't have to pity.  No.  I can rise above.  And, I'm talking about some crafted Polyanna "singing bluebird" attitude either.  You don't have to pull up your own bootstraps.  If you don't have your own bible, go search online "John 14:26."  It says that Jesus sent his "advocate" for us.... the Holy Spirit... to be our helper.  So our perspective change isn't just a matter of us pasting on a smile and saying, "Oh well, I'm dusted in a fine layer of sheet rock, sleepless and am now left w/ a wide open schedule thanks to be cancelled on... I guess I'll just learn to love my roots and eat leftover Rice A Roni for lunch."  Joy.  Joy.  Joy.  No... God knew we needed the Holy Spirit to get us out of rabbit holes...give us some perspective.  Remind us to knock it off!  


2 Timothy 1:7
New Living Translation (NLT)
7 For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.

I don't have to live by a fallen (sinful) spirit of a 40 year old whose exhausted and emotional.  No, I have the holy spirit inside of me who reminds me of who I am.  The way I explain it to my kids is that the Holy Spirit, Jesus and God have been around a LOT longer than they have... so they have a lot more time to learn how to navigate life's up and downs... stay steady and not be tempted to chase down  every rabbit.


LESSON #2:  When in doubt, always turn right down truth lane:

Here's some truth:


Psalm 139:13-16 
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

Jeremiah 29:11 

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

1 John 3:1 

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! 

It really doesn't matter whether my hair style is from last Tuesday and has subsequently been put in a ponytail ever since....without shampoo or water.  It doesn't matter that the bags under my eyes are bigger than my chin.  It doesn't matter that I fed my kids cereal for the last 34 breakfasts in a row (I didn't but you get my drift.)

GOD LOVES US AS WE ARE.  

He made us.  He knows.  He KNOWS.  Whether you are frustrated with this season, feeling hidden, feeling like you could host your own pity party... he knows, he loves you and wants to offer you a hand to get back up and out of the "pity toilet bowl."  You are loved.  Wholly loved.  Just as you are.  Nothing you have done this morning, this last week, year or lifetime can separate you from God's love once you reach up your hands and ask him for a big hug.


If you are like me, you might be wondering, "So, how did it turn out?  Did you post a snide FB post about your neighbor?  Throw a rock at your stylist's salon?  Will you be on Jerry Springer?"

(Sorry, cracking myself up.)

Ahhh... no.  The reality and humbling truth is that it took about 45 minutes of me piddling my time away, feeling sorry for myself before I returned to my bible and read the verses I shared with you today.  Truthfully, 45 wasted minutes that I could have been praying for someone, cooking a meal for someone, catching up with someone... all those things we think we are "too busy" for.  (Sigh.)

Finally, I turned to the truth for a change in perspective and let the holy spirit guide my thoughts.  My neighbor and hairdresser weren't conspiring.  In fact, how many times have I needed to cancel last minute?  Duh... that will give you some compassion... turn it around and realize how often you've done the same thing.  Of course we'll reschedule- can't wait to spend time with my new friend.

I found another hairdresser... I'm now back to my pre-children color.  The bags are still there but they are marks of a caring mom who stayed up through the night to be with her child.  (And I figure I'll just go to bed when they do tonight... saves me the calories of the fermented grapes and the $35 on the sitter.)

That's why I love getting God's perspective on our situations and our emotions.  He has a 94 year perspective on my life... so I don't need to be ruled by my sleep deprived, morning perspective.  I can rest in truth and know that even if my children don't appreciate me at 6:20 a.m..... even if my hairstylist has an emergency and cancels... I am wholly loved, fearfully and wonderfully made.

And you know what?  So are you. 

My last two and a half hours....

I should probably consider buying myself a journal and just write in that every day.  Oh wait, I have several journals (some empty, some with a few entries, some with to-do lists) that I already possess.  I think the hardest part is remembering to be consistent.  Because life happens....and it happens fast.  Details unravel...there are highs...there are lows.... most things work themselves out....

To try and catch someone up to speed can take pages of writing.  Oh sure, there is the "male" version I could give you... "I have three boys...they are nuts... I'm becoming nuts... we're moving...again... yes, I know... again."

But c'mon... God made me a WOMAN which means I need to give you every detail, every back-story so you will COMPLETELY understand why...oh why... I look completely frazzled and in the same gym clothes I was in yesterday.  If I didn't tell you everything, well, then... I appear pathetic.  If I drag you through the highs and lows...why, then...I appear to have superwoman strength just to be there talking about it!!!!

(Does blogger still wrestle with a strong need to perform?  Check.)

So here I am... in front of the Starbucks to borrow their Wi-fi (I'm going to get my cup of coffee... jeesh... it's not like I'm free loading... but if I go in, I'll see someone I know, make up excuses and not ever get a chance to write... I'm very honest that I lack willpower!) but I'm trying my best to get a post in.... I've got a great one up my sleeve about God's nutty journey the last few weeks but........but....

I have two and a half hours left.

See...some people cry and get wistful.  I do.  I DO!  I do get choked up.. at the most random of things... the national anthem.  Seeing soldiers come home.  The end of my kiddos sports games (especially when they come and clap for US at the end of the game... be still my beating heart!!!)

But the end of City Kids PRESCHOOL?

Uh... no.  I don't get wispy.  I get sad.  Very sad.  A bit panicked and sad.

I really love those of you who are gasping and wondering if you should call protective child services on me right now.  I love you because I'm AMAZED by you.... you are such great moms!!!

I love my kids, don't get me wrong.  But the end of preschool is like a probation officer coming to my house and greeting me at the front door with a low-jack ankle bracelet.

I will now be reduced to a 30 foot radius for the entire summer break.  I can't hear it go off, but my preschooler can.  If I go upstairs to pee... only 10 seconds go by before I hear, "mom?"  "MOM?"  If I head to the garage for a minute... "mom?"  "MOM?"  It must sound off like a dog whistle... which apparently my son can hear because for the last week he's insisted he's a dog and simply barks for water or food.

Awesome.


Why, preschool directors, why?  Why do we have to end earlier than our school-aged siblings?  It's like a band-aid being ripped off over an 8 day period.  Leg hair, by leg hair... my freedom is being ripped away from me.... my ability to shop down an entire aisle and look at new products, read labels and not have to avoid the dessert section..... gone.   For the next 3 months I will no longer be able to get through Target without opening up the $1 package of God-knows-what-is-in-them animal crackers to keep someone in their shopping cart so we're not consistently calling out his name on the store intercom.

Gone are outisde runs with my Ipod; not accompanied by a stroller, 17 stops to look at bugs, feed ducks, collect leaves, pee outside, open snacks and head back after 700 feet because someone has to poop.

Gone are having full thoughts, full sentences or full cups of coffee without having to microwave it.

Don't get me wrong... I love my children.  I really do.  But it's not like I was a miserable person contemplating the meaning of life before I had them.  So... for these 9 months I have relished my two and a half hours, three days a week, in which I get to visit the ghost of "Erin past."

Silence.

Talk radio.

Phone calls... even 7+ minute phone calls....

Suddenly, snack requests, shaving foam paintings and ominous "Thursday share days" sound delightful.  Hustling out the door, always running back for our tote bag or stuffed animal leaves me wanting more... more... more of those!

I'm reminded of the lyrics in a Counting Crows song, "Why does it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone...."

Readers... it's been so nice to share these last few minutes with you.  It has been a treat.  I can't promise you when I might write to you again... I can't promise you the sentences will be coherent.... I'm thankful you can't hear screaming while I type.  Doesn't really matter if it's mine or my children's.  I'm thankful I don't "vlog" because you'd see me with those gym pants from yesterday and a stringy pony-tail.... mascara from April.

A parallel universe I am sure we can all relate to.... to love our little nuggies so much...so much it hurts...so much that we read other really great blogs from inspiring moms who are telling us how to raise our children even better.... but to also cry.. just a little bit.... that in now THIRTY minutes... my school-break is coming to an end....

Let the duck-feeding, bug-hunting and skipping the dessert aisle at the grocer BEGIN!!!

(Hey... you know that most of what I type is REAL but certainly not enough to call the police on, right?  So... throw me a bone...anyone else dress in black the last day of school?  Let me know!)

Why you should never miss an opportunity to High-5 a cow

Yes, I realize I already have typed something that's not even a real word...but you aren't reading for literary enjoyment so allow me to throw some slang into my thoughts.... because of course that is how my brain thinks most of the time.

Ahhhh... Halloween... we all survived again, didn't we?  I was blown away to hear that Halloween is America's second highest retail generating holiday after Christmas.  I don't really know what I would have guessed in its place... I know we parents aren't exactly running around at Thanksgiving time, scrambling for outdoor Pilgrim decorations but I suppose I was just surprised that its grown into such a revenue monster.  (Because personally, what I just LOVE about the holiday is the irony of spending $30 on candy that I give out in 2-3 bit parcels to kids and then it just comes back to me in the form of assortment when my kids dump out their containers.  Then, we feel a certain sense of responsibility to not let our kids eat all of that so we toss it, take it to the dentist, eat it between now and Christmas and then wonder why we gained Holiday weight, etc.

Soooooo logical... and fiscally responsible...uh, NOT!

Let us not forget about the countless hours of searching for a Halloween costume because let's face it, kids change their mind on what they want to be at least 4 times before the big night. They get to wear it for 45 minutes at school and another 2 hours on Halloween.  You end up with a pile of synthetic material and plastic accessories that you hope will add hours of dress-up entertainment for your children but quickly realize you are delusional in thinking you will get that much use out of the costume.  Worse yet, you assume that each of your children will want to be what their older sibling was last year.  You stomp your foot and say, "not next year... we won't sign up for the same goat rodeo!"

....but then.... just like childbirth... time marches on and you forget the insanity of it all until October 1st of next year....and you do it all again.....

Hmmm... I sense a bit of sarcasm in my tone here...but it really is so silly!!!!  My kids were all so bummed out because it wasn't Halloween today.  "Why?" I asked.  I think their only audible answer was because they like collecting the candy.  The funny thing is, they won't even finish it all before it goes stale because I will police its intake for the next 2 months and I've scared the crap out of them with stories about kids who throw up from eating too much candy and the chocolate that comes up and out through the nose.  The pure allure of that much sugar massed together truly loses its sexiness in about 2 months from now.  I actually like how it just butts right up next to the Holiday season because its almost like by January...they are ASKING for carrot sticks!

This was not even my topic for this post. (Shocking, I am sure.) I know you parents have some really good ideas for recycling costumes.  I am sure if I had my act together and had set an alarm on my phone for September 1st I would have spent 7 hours researching costume swaps in the area.  There are even parents who have children who don't like candy so there is no problem giving it all away... or your kids actually go out and collect food items instead of candy to give to the food banks.  I am so thankful for all of you bucking the trend!

Here's what else happens on Halloween that bucks the system...and I LOVE it.

Community.

Right or wrong about whatever the holiday was originally created for...irregardless of how you celebrate it... we come together.  In unity.  Without judgement.

Proof?  Check out Facebook.   It is single-handedly one of the biggest nights that we post pictures of either our pumpkins or our own lil' pumpkins.  And talk about the "likes" we get...its almost as if you can't scroll through FB without "liking" everyones picture of their kids in costume without being the biggest jerk in the world!

Here's what else I love...the unity of the children.  Oh sure, there is the usual pecking-order process of "trick or treating groups.  No matter what plans are made on the bus ride home.. kids are pretty unscathed because even the best laid plans get thrown out the window and everyone ends up moving from house to house in one big flock.  The goal here, people, is candy... and lots of it.  Unity.  In the name of low-quality sugar.  Unity.

And I'll take it.  Last night was a night in which it didn't matter what school you went to, what age you were or what you were dressed up like.  You all got a piece of candy.  (Well, except those who came to my door dressed as WSU Cougs... I had dictionaries for them.)  KIDDING!

My favorite example of this was in my youngest.  I just assumed he was going to be a Fireman because that was the costume I still had from the other kids.  October 25th rolls around and he announces he is going to be a ghost.  That was about 14 hours before I was catching a flight for the weekend so my best shot was I was to grab the kid a sheet, cut some holes and call it a day.

Here's the best part of having a 3-year old....they are like dogs.  I pulled out the fireman costume one last time on Halloween afternoon to try and persuade him (because of course I still didn't have a sheet) and while he said no to the fireman (sorry public servants... I DO thank you for your hard work) he did spy a white pair of pants with black spots on them in the drawer.  He ran over, pulled it out and exclaimed, "OOOH...I want to be a cow!"  Praise God for not having enough time to junk out the costume bin.  Bright-shiny-object (black and white costume) combined with a little 3 year old brain that doesn't remember being a cow LAST year and voila... costume debacle over!

 When he was ready to come in for the night after a hefty return on trick-or-treating, he hung out on the porch with me to show me his stash of kiddy crack... I mean...candy.  By this point there were large groups of older kids out or on their way to different houses for parties.  The first group of 15 or so passed by our house without coming up for candy.  I looked back and there was Evan, standing eagerly next to the bowl of candy waiting to pass it out to the kids.  Of course, to avoid heartbreak, like every good mom, I shouted out to the group of teenagers and risked the HUGE probability I would look like an idiot to say,

"HEY!  DON'T FORGET TO STOP AND SEE THE COW!"

Oh yes... yes I did.  But you know what?  That group of High Schoolers stopped...looked...and turned around to come say "Hi" to my little cow.  Most of them didn't take any candy, but came and either shook my son's hand or gave him a High-5.  He was in Heaven...checking out all of the costumes and showing everyone his "swishy tail."

There was no judging..there was no one standing back at the sidewalk, refusing to get in on the "hamming it up with a 3 year old."  No one was too cool for that... no one did the "I don't feel like participating.  No one pulled the "I don't associate with cows" or wanted to avoid being seen High-fivin' a cow they had never met before.  (Of course I expected his babysitters to stop by and give a hug or lavish praise on him... after all, they know where their bread is buttered...but these were complete strangers on their way to a party down the street.)

No judgement.  No cliques.  Just love.

I'd like to think that is how Jesus would be if he were around to celebrate Halloween.  Oh sure, the Pharisees would be having a conniption fit with October 31st... I can just see the bulging veins and imagine the blood pressure.  No doubt the Romans would have put a kibosh on the entire holiday...but... just imagine what Jesus would have done.  Dressed up like the rest of them.... laughed at all the costumes....even the dark & ghoulish ones!  He would have passed out King Size candy bars for sure (and he probably would have only needed to buy 5 of them and yet he would have had enough for the whole hood.)  *** Footnote... you'll need to read the book of Mark, Chapter 6, lines 30-44 if that doesn't make any sense.

Point?  I would love it if every day we stopped to High-5 the cow who's looking for a smile.  Yeah, I know we are all really busy heading to a party and wanting everyone to notice what WE are wearing...but I think there are a lot of cows out there for us to bless...and who's smile will bless US.

Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.   -Romans 12:10

I guarantee every high-schooler that made his way up to the front of the crowd to interact with my little cow was blessed by it.

Translate that for the population reading this, the over 55" crowd (that's inches not age people!) who can tie our own shoes... look the bank teller in the eye and really ask how he or she is doing.  Listen for the answer.  Give a dollar to the man who is humble enough to hold a sign up on the street corner.  Suspend the judgment of how he happened to find a magic marker and perfect piece of cardboard and consider instead what point he must be at to risk recognizing those he might know while he holds that sign.  High 5 your toll-booth operator.  Shake it up on the way to your big fancy party and make someone else's day.  We don't need costumes to do that.... because as different as our costumes made us seem to one another...they actually brought us together for a night.

Any "feel good" stories from the night?  Did you use Halloween to make a difference?  Would love to hear your thoughts!

What you do matters!

I spend most of my time encouraging other moms to stop and rest.

Well, now, like so many other things in life, I'm telling you to do the exact opposite.

What?

Shut the front door.

(No... I am not drinking...well, other than my 3rd cup of coffee.  Stop judging, get back to reading...like YOU didn't hit the Starbucks drive through this morning, Ms skinny Venti Gingerbread Latte woman?)

Sorry.

Little fired up over here.

It struck me that after my last post, Litmus tests for moms, that we do a lot.... I mean... a TON.  Not just as moms but as wives, friends, neighbors and daughters.  If you are dude reading this, please simply insert your own titles here.... because I love my dude readers but lets be honest here...most y'all reading this have a uterus so I'm just keeping my audience targeted, okay?

And I love that I have a husband who really, truly believes and more importantly, TELLS PEOPLE that I keep this ship running around here.  It's also, of course, what makes me the:

• Debbie Downer
• Military Drill Sergeant
• Prudish Penny

I mean, lets face it, bottoms aren't wiped clean, noses run, fingers become silverware utensils, shin guards get moldy and kids get left at school like abandoned kittens if its just all fun and games all day long!!!

Honest though?

If we're going to be real....

Sometimes, I have a hard time seeing how important I really am!!!

I know, I know... we all long for that moment when our son or daughter is accepting a distinguished award and they get up on the podium, shake hands and then nervously lean into the microphone to say, 

"I just want to thank my mom.  For everything.  I would not be here today if it wasn't for her."

But until that time...what are we left with to validate just how hard we work?
It dawned on me this morning...as I was talking to a friend who had 30 minutes to pack her bags and get out the door to the airport.

(Remember the days when you used to start laying your clothes out for an upcoming trip DAYS before?   Snort.)

You need to go away, mom.
Go somewhere... without your kids.... even if it is just 24 hours.
Here's why:

It will force you to deploy operation: "life without mom."  

DISCLAIMER: THIS CANNOT BE DONE WITHOUT ADVANCE NOTICE TO ALL PARTIES.... I REPEAT... ADVANCE NOTICE TO ALL PARTIES REQUIRED!

Why?  Because this is what needs to happen in order for you to hang up your mom hat for a period of time:

1.  Food and meals will need to be prepared in advance.  Low hanging fruit, low hanging fruit people!  Easy to peel, easy to heat, easy to serve meals that do not entirely consist of cold cereal...which is what would happen if you did not shop specifically for the time you were going to be gone.  

2.  Absolutely every bit of clothing must be washed, dried, folded and delivered to its appropriate room.  Might I suggest putting it away yourself this time so that little Johnny does not even ATTEMPT to design his own outfit should you miss something like picture day, share day, line leader day, etc....any day where a photo might be taken.

3.  The house must be cleaned.  Listen people... your home will be operating on a power play....it will not even be close to man-to-man coverage.  It's about minimizing risks... you can't afford for little feet to step on legos, less you have prepared emergency first aid kits readily available in every room.  You will not be there to search for Barbie's chiropractic-adjustments-required-high-heel-shoes that are currently located under the ottoman.  You know this because you know...and you are there... and when you leave... you won't be able to hear..."moooooommmmmmmmmmmm" from every room in the house.  Clean now...thank me later.

4.  Carpools.  Oh... I cannot stress this enough...get on it early... make an excel spreadsheet and stock up on homemade jam, Starbucks cards, and candles.... while the suck-up gifts are not necessarily needed right now, you better believe they are the second time you ask!!!  Should you ask to reciprocate in the future?  Absolutely?  Do I ever get taken up on it?  No...because everyone else seems to have their cr*p together!!!!  (Gotta keep it clean for the Pastors who read this!)

5.  Carpools..again....because this is 2 number worthy.  Once you have carpools you need to confirm, re-confirm, make sure everyone has the cell phone number and PAD THE TIME TO HAVE YOUR KID READY BY 15 MINUTES!  Trust you me, that mini-van driving mama with 3 hollering kids on her way to the Birthday party is in NO MOOD to have YOUR kid the one who's running late.  You want your kids taken for a ride in the future... you need to plan and visualize for your child curb-side and ready to load like a passenger waiting for a taxi at  Chicago O'Hare... MOVE IT KIDDO!

6.  Lastly, you'll need a Word Doc or email outlining the exact schedule of the time you will be gone.  No...not what you  are doing...but what everyone else needs to be doing.  Exact location of back-packs, water-bottles, wrapped birthday presents, field locations for game days, etc. After all, you won't be there to do all of what you do.  I will NEVER throw my husband under the bus, but even if I were to leave my hubby in charge of the whole house for a couple of days, I would need to put some of our dirty little secrets in writing:

• My oldest son will try and sneak through the day without brushing his teeth...you have to smell his mouth before sending out the door or tucking in at night.
• One son likes the cran-apple juice in his lunch, the other is straight apple-juice.  Do NOT confuse the two.
• You must hold my youngest son's penis when peeing in the potty... he doesn't want to.  Yes... I am being absolutely serious here.
• One son needs door open, one son needs door closed and one needs door closed but sound-maker on to a specific noise in order to fall asleep.  Get it wrong and you'll have 3 "second-wind night owls who resemble a Red-Bull addict.

Just sayin...

So moms... don't be defeated by this list... get your hero cape on and make it happen.. you know how to sling a child on one hip, correct homework and listen to a squeaky, want-to-poke-your-eyes-out rendition of Amazing Grace on the recorder all at the same time.... now just write all of that down for the person who is going to take your place for a day or two....or three.... or... 

oh, now I'm just daydreaming....

Happy Trails!

Oh hey wait...before I hit 10,000 feet this morning ...tell me about how YOU get out of town?  Tips?  Do you avoid it because it is just too much work or do you have it down to a science?

The litmus test every mom should use to grade herself

I don't really consider myself much of a baseball nut, to say the least (although I am reminded that is the name of a really good flavor of Ice Cream and Baskin Robbins.)

Back to baseball... I have 55 minutes before certain 65 pound and 46 pound bundles of energy come off the bus which means I will be on "red flag alert" listening to 27 stories about school (mostly recess,) feeding snacks, questioning why they didn't eat half their packed lunch and monitoring homework progress.  (What is up with parents having to correct homework these days, by the way?)  I'll need to video tape my son's recorder songs and upload to email; correct Everyday math (are you kidding me, this is NOT the way I learned math,) oversee 5 minutes of typing on MY COMPUTER which means all my USB ports will be left unplugged and all open internet windows closed, give a oral spelling test and check reading comprehension answers for correct grammar, capitalization and punctuation.  Oh, and that was one kid.  (And if feels like just yesterday I was looking soooooo forward to the start of school: "First day of school: do I laugh or cry?")

Dude... I do not have a degree for this.... I pay TAXES and a write a hefty check so my children can go to good schools... but now I'm on the hook for 45 minutes worth of homeschooling?

That actually brings me back, AGAIN, to Baseball.  You see, baseball is all about statistics.  Really.  My husband and oldest child could rattle some of the most obscure statistics about baseball players and their performance.  One of a player's stats that carries a hefty weight is their batting average.  So, if I were to write baseball for dummies, I would explain that "a batting average is calculated by dividing the number of times a player has gotten a base hit by the number of times the player has been at bat."  An average batting average is about .269 for a team collectively... a good average is above .300 and the all-time record is held by Ted Williams who batted an amazing .406 back in 1946!

(Impressive what a chick can learn thanks to the internet... I practically sound like an ESPN anchor!)
Ahhh... still giggling....

Anyhoo... think about that statistic in terms of percentages... so a pretty good player, one who is sought out... paid millions and millions of dollars to play for a team... put on merchandise for God's sake... gets on base 30% of the time.

In school, uhhhh, that's failing.  Blowing it.  Big time.  I mean, Kumon won't even take you at that point!

But as moms, we really hold ourselves to a different standard, don't we?

Back to the afternoon schedule... take a look at all that is required of a typical grade-school parent the minute she collects her children from school?  And that is just what the state requires of us... never mind we elect to add  an absorbent amount of extracurricular activities to our child's plate.  Sports, music-lessons, church education programs, scouts, etc. just add to the plate because you aren't just getting them to and fro, you're ensuring they follow up on all that is demanded from those activities on the dates you AREN'T there.

I know I've said this in almost every post, but I really do write for my own therapy.  Okay, fine... secretly (well, now it's not) I also write because I hope I strike a chord with some other mom or moms out there... dude...we're friggin nuts!!!!

Because this morning I was almost in tears.  I dropped my 3 year old off at pre-school and was flying back out to the car to head to a PRECIOUS allocation of time to get my hair cut and well... um... enhanced in the umm... tone area.... um yes...I mean...color... well fine...

I GET IT HIGHLIGHTED.... SO THERE!

The preschool teacher asked if I was staying.  ("Why would I do that?" was my first thought.... ) but I asked if she needed help.  No, she replied...but it was "stay and visit" day so you could make a craft with your children!!!!!!  Oh joy.  No, I didn't know that.  No, I didn't get that email or read though every stinking bit of news for my 3 year old's newsletter this month.  OMG, this is why I write a check people... it is my BREAK!!!!

Loser mom... I thought... one more thing I didn't plan for... didn't remember...and I could just envision my child during circle time, sitting on the teacher's lap because my son "had no mama."

Tears were welling up.... and I am NOT a public crier!

You see... this just went on the top of the "already loser mom" feelings....

I nearly forgot it was picture day this morning and my husband had to rescue me (Thank you Jesus for getting him back from Houston a day early) by doing the boys hair while I scrambled to fill out the forms 5 minutes before the bus came.

The day before I listened to my son tell me how he's missing all the contests because WE don't know where his Orthodontist's debit card is and by not bringing it to his emergency appointment to replace HIS BROKEN WIRE... he was losing out on earning points.

Let's see... I could go on for days people.  School library books not in the backpack on the right days, bus passes left by the printer on the day my child is supposed to ride home with another kid.  Lunches packed in the wrong lunchbox (leaving each of my children to open up their lunches and find all of the "wrong" things... a perfect example as to how different they are!)  Yeah, that one was fun because they just didn't eat their lunches... nothing like a starving, low-blood sugar crank at the end of a school day!

We've missed team snack...forgotten water bottles on hot days, bibles to church-camp and have DEFINITELY failed to remember that it is someone's turn to pick out the ice cream flavor at the supermarket.   Allowance was paid late, a jersey wasn't washed in time for the game and I seem to be the only mom who won't plunge $60+ on a Halloween costume.

It's a wonder my children haven't filed for emancipation by now.

But you know what... I'm still batting about .900+ according to my reflection... I mean... lets consider all that I DO get right.  They are wearing underwear, they've showered, they are fed, they are loved.  Hey... that's an A- right there...take THAT, Everyday Math!

 My kids will not give you that same statistic of course...but that is just a short-term recollection of my performance.  In five years, they will forget about the missed bus pass or the time I served them homemade pizza with dough that had CLEARLY gone past its date (whoops) but I gotta stop listening to them... or myself for that matter.  Jesus is the one collecting data for the stats.

And he says I'm batting 100%.  He knows I am doing my best.  He also knows that our Heavenly Father purposed and crafted us specifically for our children.

Hebrews 13:21 (New Living Translation)


May he equip you with all you need for doing his will.
May he produce in you, through the power of Jesus Christ,
every good thing that is pleasing to him.
    All glory to him forever and ever! Amen.

Allright...so this is good stuff... He never asks us to be perfect and yet he tells us from the beginning that he's equipped us with all that we need to do....and its pleasing to Him.

How freeing... how liberating.... somewhere there's a woman shouting
"Can...I...get...an...A-MEN...up....in....here?"

Don't get your stats from your children...they are ruthless little suckers! Don't judge yourself because chances are... Satan's going to show up for that trial and stick you in the chair of the condemned or let you party over in the "guilt" chambers.  Nah... turn your eyes instead to the one who MADE you...he's known you the longest... and he thinks you are FEARFULLY and WONDERFULLY made.

Okay...okay...okay... I'm sure there is some permission slip you still need to fill out before tomorrow so I'll sign out for now...but celebrate in your incredible MBA... Mom's Batting Average and then brainstorm what you want your bobble head to look like.

Anyone else feelin' me on this one?  Let me know!

The solution for over-committed families

After another over-loaded, over-committed Turnley weekend, lets just say I didn't wake up feeling refreshed.  There was no "Carpe Diem!"

Hungover?  No.

Just plain under-rested, over-scheduled?  Yes.
(And, since if you were a therapist taking notes giving me that look, would I also admit I stayed up too late catching up on Facebook?  Okay, FINE... Yes... YES.... YES I DID!)

(And why oh why do I have an obsession about making sure I "like" everyone's posts??? Cyber-praise?)

At least by 9:30pm I told myself to go to bed and read before my novel was due back at the library.
(What, you were hoping I'd say I was in the middle of some great biography...or more laughable... a parenting book?)

Bahhhaaa..  Haaa... haaaa!

No.  I can't read those books at night; they get me all riled up stack-ranking myself against people who have a book written about them (as if that's comparable.... as IF I'm supposed to be ranking myself AT ALL!) or condemning myself for being a slacker parent (curse you, parenting book authors!)

So, no.... a novel.... and thank goodness, lights were out at 10:22, I was out by 10:30 (near record) and don't remember a thing until Regan shook me awake at 7:08 a.m.

I know many would argue that is a ton of sleep.  Oh no, my friends, that is the MINIMUM this mamasita needs to make it each day when my husband is out of town.  A 3 on 1 power play, ESPN would argue, is complete zone defense... I mean... game ON!

Factor in a "normal" night sleep without any waking up for sleep-walkers, bed-wetters or bad-dreams and you're waking up playing at par, you know?

Women, bear with me through all the sports analogies... I can't just talk about contractions, shaving and trips to the bus stop and expect my guy readers to make it through. 

Track back to the weekend... busy.  BUSY!  A mellow Friday night but partially because every Friday we're committed to sitting in traffic for 35 minutes to travel 4.5 miles to scour (politely) with 150 other SUV's for one of 125 parking stalls so that my six year old can learn to play soccer in 30 minutes and then scrimmage for another 30 minutes.  Oh yes, right at 5:30 on a Friday night.  There's no casual conversation at 5:35... its "MOVE, MOVE, MOVE" so we can try and get out of the lot before... you guessed it.... all the other cars.  Race, race race to get home because we're pretty sure the chicken in the oven is now jerky OR a fire-starter.  Phew, just dehydrated...chuck some sauce on it and it will be fine! What else can we microwave to throw some sort of food resembling a dinner onto the table by 7:15...which oh by the way, is my 3 year old's BEDTIME!

I'm no therapist, but I'm beginning to see why my kids are so high strung....hmmmmm..... 

Up Saturday morning to a soccer game.... go son go.... then in the car to Cle Elum for a family reunion.  Five bodies in one small room.... mmmmm.... good nighttime memories of NO SLEEP and let's not forget that we can't REALLY be ourselves in the morning because oh, that's right, we're around extended family.... so I pray silently to myself that no one is a "top of the mornin' to you" kind of cheery-o leprechaun because I fear I might kick them if they talk to me in the morning.

(Disclaimer: if you are reading this and are related to me I truly did have a good time and enjoyed seeing everyone but no one wants to read a sappy blog.. I might as well post my homemade flaxseed cookies and child's artwork.)

Roll up the sleeping bags... search for socks, iPods and baseball hats because its 1..2.... 3... strikes your out, gotta get the kids to the old....Mariner's ball..... game for our nephew's Birthday Party at Safeco Field.  Yes.  In Seattle.  Yes... that is 80 miles West of Cle Elum.  Yes... it does take 30 minutes to cover the first 4 miles of unpaved roads in the mini-van.  Yes, we also own a 4-runner.  Yes...that WOULD have been a better vehicle to take off-road in Cle Elum but duh.... we have 3 children and can't go on a road trip in an SUV unless we duct taped them to the ski rack on top.

Back from the park-n-ride after child drop-off to go home and unload.  Must get unpacked and littlest one down for a nap before we turn around to pick the other kiddos UP from the baseball game party.  Mommy was too tired (heaven forbid) to get all 7 loads of laundry done before we left so I better get into overdrive and get that done or daddy has no underwear for his trip to Chicago.  T-minus 4 hours and counting til Daddy needs to catch that flight...wash, wash, wash!!!  3 duffle bags unloaded and we did it!  Just 22 miles one way to pick up the kids.... ooooh....gooodie.... arrived just in time for the sugar crash and the effects of sleep deprivation and stimulus overload.... yeah me!!!

Back to home.
Reality.

I'm wiped.  My boys are wiped.  I am on a POWER PLAY.  Zone defense.  Bring it (again)!

1.  Top Ramen for dinner.  With fruit slices on a plate because it's not like I lost MY MIND, after all.
2.  Zone out time.  That meant one played in their room alone.  One watched football on TV and one took a shower so long that it ran the hot water tank out.  So what.
3.  Upstairs to read at 7:15.  That's right.  45 minutes early.

Unwind... Turnley family...unwind.....

I don't have passive, pleaser children...so let's not kid ourselves.  That evening included about 4 fits, one "I hate you" and even one "I feel like killing myself all because of you!" (stomp, stomp, stomp.)

Developmentally tracking for their age?  Check.

But, I know that sleep deprivation is a form of torture in some countries.  I also know that we subject patients to a strobe light to induce seizures and I'm pretty sure some of our days feel like a strobe light to  my children.... and me!

And so.... we rested.  As best as we could.  As best as we knew how... the Turnley family isn't going to go from Mock 90 to zen in a day.  But, we do believe:


Psalm 23:2-3 New Living Translation (NLT)
2 He lets me rest in green meadows;
    he leads me beside peaceful streams.
3     He renews my strength.
He guides me along right paths,
    bringing honor to his name.

God WANTS US to have some down time.  Are our days numbered?  Yes.  Is our life over in an instant?  Yes.  Are we supposed to make the most of every day?  Yes, but it doesn't mean we aren't to be INTENTIONAL about our down time, either.

And so we chilled.

You know, I had a COMPLETELY different idea about what my point was when I started ...obviously, God wanted to take it somewhere else.  Perhaps it was just for my own sake... to see how truly fast and hard we run as a family... to give ourselves more grace to be still.  Unwind.  Chill.  Maybe it's even okay to (gasp) sit and watch a football game on TV with my boys.  (Although I refuse to do that hands down the pants thing.)  And although my laundry multiplied like bunnies, I swear.... no one went without clothing for 48 hours while I ignored my laundry.

Maybe I was writing this for someone else...because often I don't think my own life is out of balance at all, but when I hear about someone else' life its easy for me to think, "Girl... you need to learn how to say No!  I could never keep my kids up that late!"  (I love how easy it is to see everyone else's problems..I'm so GOOD at it!)

Whatever the case, I have to trust that this was supposed to be the material I post.  I know if I re-read this... it will never make it past the editing floor.

Loyal readers... will you PLEASE speak up on FB or at the end of my post and let me know if this spoke to you?  I pray I was simply being "the vehicle."

 Cause it's either that or I'm thinkin' I need even more sleep!!!

Curious...how do you play a role in helping your family maintain balance?  Post your thoughts!

Am I laughing? Am I crying?

A memoir of all parents....

The night before I was scheduled to check in to Central Dupage Hospital in Wheaton, Illinois, I didn't sleep a wink.  Well, probably a wink, but not much after that.  Tossing and turning.  Flipping my pillow.  Waking at the sound of a plane flying 30 miles away.  When a thunderstorm rolled through at 4:15 in the morning I just called it a night and got up.

I was scheduled to deliver my 3rd son the following day and well, I was anxious!  I already had two incredibly healthy sons with great deliveries but nonetheless, knowing you are going to wake up the following morning and be in LABOR does seem to bring about a sense of restlessness.  Anticipation.  Calculating, mentally making a list....checking it twice...

Did I pack my this, my that?
Does the neighbor have my contact numbers?
Is someone getting my mom from the airport?

It was much like that same restless feeling last night as I lay awake...the night before the first day of school.  With my husband having left for an East Coast trip earlier that evening, there was a sense of "Rosie the Riveter" within my spirit.  I was on my own, taking on new frontier... in a new era.... (I'm cracking myself up!)  No....seriously....

Could I get my 9 year old out the door without any wardrobe malfunctions and a lunch that included some sort of nutrition for his newly adhered braces?

Could I wake my late-sleeping 1st grader up in time to clothe and eat without missing the bus (and remembering his underwear?)

Would my 3 year old son demand his usual amount of attention and go with the flow or fight the current?

Could I shower, dry hair and apply some resemblance of makeup to be proud of those first day of school pictures and not want to try and photo-shop myself out?

That line of thinking got me through until I saw midnight on the alarm clock.  Then my friend "memory lane" stopped in for a visit.... recalling the high and low points of the summer; road trips, swimming at Pine Lake, zoo trips, shaking in our boots to the roar of the Blue Angels.... blueberry picking, summer baseball and trips to Costco that took 2 hours and ended with tossing 23 sample cups into the trash at the exit.  Ahhhh....those summer days.  The outbursts, mommy-is-losing-her-mind-episodes and clashing of the minds seemed to fade into the night air.  The "I'm bored," "this is the worst day ever," "there is nothing to do," "I want a new mom" comments grew distant and not nearly as stinging as they were the days they were spoken these past 10 weeks.

Then the ghost of the present came to visit and we looked onward to the future..... I would be able to take showers longer than 10 minutes, shop at Target without coercion or breakdowns and eat a lunch that did not originally start as a whole sandwich on my son's plate.  Why, I could sit down and read a magazine.... unload the entire dishwasher at once and even....WRITE!  Read a book...or  two...or even visit the big people section of the library!  I could SHAVE MY LEGS!!!!

Of course the mere thoughts of having all of my children in some sort of school or napping for a combined for 13 hours a week got me so excited that I definitely saw 12:30 am....and 1:00 am.

And so here I am, bleary eyed, writing to you.  Jacked up and down on 2 cups of coffee, an Americano and a Diet Coke... a heartfelt "share" with all of the other parents out there today....

They are on the bus.  I teared... my voice cracked as I waved and said "Goodbye" as they stepped away from me.  I hollered a hoopla after the bus pulled away.  Then, of course, I immediately posted all of the pictures on Facebook and wistfully scrolled through everyone else's first day pictures.  I envisioned every other parent's struggle between "cheers and tears."  While I cannot deny that there is a rightfully selfish woman inside of me who is ready to exhale after holding her breath for 10 weeks, I am gripped by the fact that when that bus pulled away this morning, it forced my children to get older.  It was no longer an option for my 6 year old to attend school half the day.  My fourth grader needs that playground adrenaline rush found only in hurling inflated balls at their opposing teammates heads in a action-packed game of Dodgeball and yes, even my 3 year old will need the heartfelt love of a teacher who actually enjoys craft time.

Time really does fly.  And at times, it really does slow down.  And its perfectly okay to cry and laugh at the same time today.  It's a changing of the guards, a reddening of the green leaves as the cool morning air ushers in a new season.

I for one will be trying my best not to immediately pack my calendar full of things (as I write that I'm such a hypocrite...but working to get a free day in here soon!!!) so that I can "take inventory" of the ME that existed before children.  What has been put on the shelf?  What do I have more time for?  How can I best prepare for this next season?

I hope that all of you parents (and parents in the making) have had a wonderful day or for my Midwest and East Coast readers... I know you just did this a few weeks ago.... but I encourage you to embrace the day and the transition for what it is....such a wonderful passage of time... a chance to reflect on the great memories...let the bad ones fade away and embrace the addition of time deposited back into your daily accounts.  A word of caution to not immediately throw oneself into your entire to-do list without checking to see if some of that is even relevant!  Just as our children have grown...so have we!

Congrats to all...and now.... I must go meet the bus and capture some more Facebook-bound photographs as my children disembark from their first day of "being older."  :)