Sometimes My Kids Set Me Straight Volume II

About a week and a half ago, my big boys were packing for Scout camp. I had planned to start early, and we did but we didn't finish early and I was headed for my old panic routine of completely flipping out. I don't even remember the specifics, but I remember that I was probably channeling the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland (OFF with their heads!).

I've always said that I want my family to be different. I don't want to yell at each other. I don't want my kids to think I'm a hypocrite. I don't want my kids to be angry at me. I don't want slammed doors and words spewed like venom.

I want love and respect. Even in disagreement. 

I used to be a yeller. As a young mom, I found myself going down a lot of roads I said I never would. 

I didn't know how to be a mom. I didn't know how to create an environment that embodied all of the things I wanted for my family. I still don't really. I know that sounds silly but I honestly was ignorant. I knew that I was supposed to clean the house and feed and bathe my children but I did not understand how to do all of that. It didn't and doesn't come natural to me. I really wish that I had asked someone to help me. But I thought I was supposed to know how to do it all, and I was too prideful to let anyone know how much I didn't know. 

God has done so much work in me. He has sent people my way to teach me and help me. I still have a looooooong way to go but I am so thankful for His work in my life. Did you notice that I said I used to be a yeller?! Uh huh. I used to be. I still mess up every once in a while but I am definitely in recovery for that.

So, in my Queen of Hearts state, Nathaniel had had enough and returned fire (via a response spoken under his breath). I reprimanded him. I was NOT prepared for what happened next. He turned to me and said "when you made that face I felt tempted to talk back to you". I had managed not to yell but apparently the look on my face was pretty rabid...I'm thinking probably Cruella DeVille-ish. Yeah, it was so bad that I have to use more than one Disney villain to fully express the awfulness.

Photo Credit

I actually had a hard time keeping a straight face. We've been working on using the whole "when you...I feel...I need" statements and he totally turned it on me!!! It immediately convicted me and I asked for forgiveness. 

And as they left for camp I spent time in prayer for my sweet boys and for myself. I spent the week asking God to make me a better mom and to transform me completely and to do whatever it takes to make me like Jesus. 

I'm not going to say that I am fixed and that my son will never have to let me know I've crossed the line again, but I am so glad to have them home. I really missed them but I'm so thankful that they had the opportunity to go. 

And I am thankful for the opportunity to see where I'm deficient and to surrender more fully to God's care and control and to all the changes he wants to make in my life.

My Top Ten Moments as a Mother

Being a mom has changed me as much as being a wife. 

Here is my list of my favorite moments as a mother. A lot of them weren't my favorites in my overwhelmed and massively sleep deprived, mother of 5 kids in 4 years state ...but now that my kids are older and those days are behind us I can laugh. :)

Without further adieu...or adeiu or aduie. You know what I mean. :)

10. The time Caleb scooted across the bed at like 2 months and we called our parents and said he crawled. 

9. The time we met a friend at McDonalds and didn't order any food (just drinks) while the kids played on the PlayPlace and Lilla came back to our table with ketchup on her face. Confused, I looked around the room to find a group of people laughing hysterically and pointing in our direction. She had apparently walked up to their table and helped herself to some fries.

8. The time Elisabeth made it to church with no diaper or panties on. I heard a commotion at the entrance and went to find out what it was and Elisabeth was standing with her head on the ground and her hiney in the air. With no diaper. And no panties.

7. The time I caught Elisabeth trick or treating when it wasn't halloween. And our neighbors gave her stuff.

6. The time I was 37 weeks pregnant with the twins, and went to Walmart and slipped in a puddle of urine. Nathaniel was still potty training and it was his. But it took me a while to figure it out. Still gross but at least it came from him and not a stranger! A tiny little elderly woman tried to help me up. Like a mouse helping an elephant.

5. The time I had to take all five kids out of church (there were actually a lot of times that this happened) and Lilla got away from me and started to run up the isle toward the front and I set all the other kids down and tried to catch her before she reached the front but I tripped and fell.

4. The time I had to take the twins out and Uriah wouldn't walk so I ended up literally dragging him to the back.

3. The time we went to a wedding and the floor of the church was concrete and slanted down toward the front. We let Caleb take ONE little car in. During the prayer he dropped the car...and it was loud ALL. THE. WAY. TO. THE. FRONT. and finally came to stop at the Mother of the Brides feet. We were sitting in the back. She was not happy.

2. The time I let my dad talk me into taking a road trip to CA when the twins were less than two weeks old. We all got pink eye. Even the babies.

1. The time we were in the McDonalds drive thru and Lilla climbed on top of the car. Uh huh. She did that. And many other things that could probably fill a book. Don't believe people when they tell you that girls are easier than boys. It totally depends on the personalities of both!

I am pretty sure that an army of angels has surrounded my kids throughout their lives. With all of the shenanigans we've only had to make one trip to the ER for stitches. 

Getting Real About Marriage

A little over a year ago, I wrote this post about my marriage. (And then about 6 months ago I wrote this one)

I kind of laugh at myself now because I didn't even know how unperfect my marriage was.

The truth is, I'm feeling a little bit cynical these days. I have a hard time reading anything about how to have a good marriage, because most of it seems so naive. And because I've taken so much of that advice and worked hard to implement it and I have still ended up where I have ended up. Broken. In a broken marriage. With a broken man.

We don't struggle with fighting about underwear on the floor. I mean, we might bicker about that periodically but it's never really about the underwear on the floor. 

Basically, his character defects and addictions have spent the last 15 years colliding with my character defects and addictions and now there's a desperate need for a "clean up on isle"...us. All this time we thought the mess was normal and okay and what we deserved. So we lived in it. And as we lived in it, it grew. 

I finally realized a few years ago that it wasn't normal and that things really could be different and so I started reading books and blogs about how to do it better...how to clean up this mess I'd made. And it did get cleaned up. Things got better and better. 

But it was like trying to clean up the water from a leak in the roof without fixing the leak in the roof. 

So, here we are fixing the leak in the roof. And I keep having to remind myself and hear the truth that I can't fix it by myself. 

The thing is, I can't fix my marriage without fixing me. A bridge can't be stable if the individual components aren't stable. A bridge can only be as strong as the individual structures that hold it together are. 

Our marriage can only be as strong and stable as Michael and I are. It can only be as Christ like as Michael and I are. 

And so we're working on our marriage by working on ourselves. We are surrendering to the changes that God sees fit to make in our lives. And we are loving each other deeply in the process. 

On the Eve of My Son Becoming a Teenager

Tuesday I will become the mother of a teenager. It seems so strange to say that. I am way more emotional than I thought I would be. I'm not really sad that's he's growing up, I guess it's just that I'm thinking of all the things I want him to know and all the things I wish I had said and done or at least done better.

In some ways it seems like yesterday that Caleb was born. And in others, it seems an eternity away. I feel like a completely different person.

I was 20 when Caleb was born. 20 didn't seem extremely young then, but now, thinking that if Caleb has a child at 20, I could be 7 years away from being a grandparent...20 seems incredibly young. I still feel like a fraud on Mother's Day. I can't imagine becoming a grandparent in the next ten years. But it very seriously could happen.

The next few years are going to be really important. I don't know what they'll bring, but I know my God. 

 From a fleshly standpoint, I want him to have friends and be successful. I want him to go to college and get a good job and marry a nice girl, if he wants to, and have some kids and never have any problems.

But my spirit knows it can't be that simple and wants God to wreck him. Because I would rather him have Jesus than a degree. I would rather him be a disciple of Jesus (in the true sense of that) and lead a life of poverty than be distracted by this world and the things it has to offer. I want peace for him, but I want the peace that passes all understanding. I want God to do whatever it takes to mold my son into the image of His. 

The things that that could mean are scary. And they might be painful to watch. But I know that God is good. I know it. And I will spend a lot of time on my knees.

I have no delusions that he will be sinless. But I am thankful that Michael and I are learning to put away our sins and I pray that we do and our kids will see that and know that when it comes time, we can help them with theirs.

I just love him so much and I just want Jesus for him. I want him to seek God with all of his heart. I pray that in the next few years, God will direct my mothering steps and send people into his life that will lead him there.

The Day I Witnessed Superman Being Clark Kent

I think that super hero stories have their roots in the sometimes magnificent transformation a man can make from home to work.

My brother is super quiet around people he doesn't know. But the first time I witnessed him excel in a sales position in a department store...it was like he had stopped in a phone booth on the way to work and transformed into his super hero self  It was like he was a completely different person. He was confident and FRIENDLY. HE WALKED UP TO COMPLETE STRANGERS AND STARTED A CONVERSATION.  

Maybe they're super heroes at home and turn into their super nerdy alter ego when they are at work. Or maybe it's the other way around. Either way, it's pretty neat to witness.

Michael is an IT contractor for an international law firm in downtown Dallas. He keeps the lawyers computers and other technology working properly so they can serve their clients thoroughly.

I don't usually get to see him "in action". In fact, I guess I've never really seen him at work before. Which seems weird, but it's true. But with his current position, he takes a week out of the month to be "on call"...which means that lawyers all over the world call him for help with their laptops and smartphones. So he gets calls at all hours. 

I have to be honest, I didn't know where Abu Dhabi was until this weekend when he had to get up in the middle of the night and go to his office to help a lawyer practicing there. 

Anyway, so last Friday night he got a call from an irate lawyer who was locked out of his computer. This man is dropping F bombs and poop euphemisms like they were bread crumbs leading him to the Promised Land. Michael patiently listened and then calmly and confidently affirmed his feelings of frustration and then redirected the conversation to finding a solution. Over. And over. And over again. 

I was totally impressed with how professional and kind he was to this man. I got to see Superman as Clark Kent or maybe it was Clark Kent as Superman. Either way, I got a little glimpse of the other side of the magic...and I am in awe. :)

Itchy Armpit

(I couldn't come up with a title so I asked one of my children to provide me with a title. Thus, Itchy Armpit :)

Our family endured through 6 years of public school.

We made the decision two years ago to bring our oldest son home for schooling. The public school system was not working for him and honestly, I was done trying to make it work.

Gradually over that school year we brought two more of these wild indians home for schooling. And while the two who remained in public school were doing well in that environment, we decided that home schooling is best for our family right now.

Am I saying that our kids will never go back to school? No. I don't know what the future holds. But for now, we're happy with the decision we've made, and here's why...

1.) They have more free time to learn. WHAT? Yes. They read and research and play outside. They spend some time in book learning but it takes them a few hours and then they have the rest of their day to do chores, do internet research on a topic of their choice, do crafts, go to the library or visit the Perot Museum.

2.) I like being able to do stuff with my kids. I love that they are with me all the time. I love that if a friend is moving, I can load up my minions and help out. I love that if we decide to take a vacation, we can do it while everyone else is in school. We're going on a cruise in September because we got a super great deal...we wouldn't have felt free to do that if they were in public school.

3.) I want my kids to be free to learn the way they learn best. IF they need to do a round of burpees every few minutes to keep them focused on their work...they get up and do burpees every few minutes. I can find literature units on books they love. I can adjust their work load based on how their brain works...I tell Elisabeth to do 2 problems instead of 20 and she ends up doing them all anyway. It's just hard for her to focus when she's overwhelmed. I love being able to do that.

4,) I want my kids to understand that it's okay to be different and to think differently and to do things differently. God didn't make us all to be the same. Different does not equal wrong.

Who is Gonna Tell the Child?

Last night, for the first time, our family had the privilege of attending an Eagle Scout ceremony. 

Our oldest boys were asked to be a part of the ceremony.  They were put in charge of the ceremonial fire.  Fire.  In a public building full of people and expensive things. FIRE. :)

As a recovering helicopter parent I appreciate situations like this one because I almost always learn something from them.

I've read a lot of parenting books. But in recent years I think that God has really redefined my view of my job as a parent. I see my job as more of a guide. I give them a job, some instructions if/when necessary and then I step back to let them figure it out. It's my job to get them ready to fly off into the sunset without me.

Events like this one often teach me about an area where I haven't given them growing room. So I go away better prepared and more enlightened about what my kids are capable of.

Anyway, one of my favorite parts of the ceremony happened when the young man who had obtained Eagle Scout rank was given an opportunity to honor his mentors with a pin.  He gave out three. One to his second grade Sunday school teachers, one to an encouraging woman from his church and one to his grandfather. Even though I barely know this boy (I couldn't have even pointed him out in the Troop before this ceremony) I became emotional during this portion of the ceremony.

It just made me realize how important people are in my kids lives.  Sometimes I forget that. I love the ways that my boys Scout leaders have impacted their lives.  I'm sure there are others who would qualify as mentors for my kids but this is an area where I want to be more diligent in prayer. I need to pray for people who will take an interest in them and guide them in their walk with the Lord.  Not necessarily people who constantly correct them, but who lead by example.  People who inspire them to love Jesus and let His light shine in their lives.  And who will teach them things that they need and want to know.

During another part of the ceremony the Eagle Scout was asked to take a challenge. I can't remember the details but he was basically "challenged" to live well.  And at the end of his little speech he asked the audience to take a challenge too.  He asked that everyone there correct him when he's wrong, help him when he needs help and...I can't remember the last thing...but he asked everyone who would accept that challenge to respond with an "I do". Everyone did. I just thought about how amazing it would be if we all did this for one another. If we all worked on ourselves (actually, let God work on us) to the point that we could turn our focus from our own sin to helping the next generation deal with theirs. If we took the time to teach them what they need to know...even if they aren't our nephew or niece or grand child or any blood relation at all.

I came away from this ceremony with so many good things. It fed my soul. It's probably a little silly, but I was uplifted as a person and inspired as a mom.

We all need mentors.  My kids need mentors other than me and their dad. And I pray that God will send people to fill those roles, and I am super thankful for the ones he's already sent!

Life Changes

I had five kids in four years.  When our twins were born our oldest child had just turned four.  

I was a little crazy.  And by a little, I mean a lot. 

I took them all to the store by myself for the first time a little over a month after the twins were born.  I went armed with my double stroller. I didn't have any of those super nifty baby wearing devices that most moms use now...I had my double stroller. 

I'm pretty sure that at several points in my early mothering, there were angels holdingthat double stroller up.

Anyway, it was Michael's birthday and I needed to get some things to make his birthday dessert.  So I took all of my five wild indians to the local Walmart.  It seemed a fitting choice.  

I got Lilla and the babies into the stroller (a very wise mama had schooled me in the art of getting THREE wild indians into a stroller with only two seats...bless her!) and the two oldest walked holding onto the stroller while I pushed it. 

About a third of the way into the store, one of the babies started screaming bloody. murder. (as a side note, please allow me to remind you that I was not quite six weeks postpartum...so...HORMONES)

Let me tell you, I was on a mission. If I didn't get my business taken care of, it wasn't going to GET taken care of so I was DETERMINED to make it through (what felt like) the ultimate mothering championship.

 I picked up the screaming baby. 

And um, pushing a double stroller with one hand is, well, difficult. After a few steps I realized I was going to have to rethink. And while I was rethinking, the other baby started crying. So I picked that baby up too.

Long story short, I stuck Caleb in the back seat of the stroller, I put Lilla in the front seat and Nathaniel in the basket underneath the stroller. 

I was literally pushing over a hundred pounds of kid through the grocery store, while holding two babies and shopping for groceries in Supermarket Sweep fashion.

It's a good memory.  It was not good at the time.

It was hard, but we all made it through.

 I got my groceries, annoyed other customers as little as possible and made it out in one piece. 

I'm pretty sure I cried.

Since then there have been many grocery store experiences. A lot of stressful moments and feeling like I'm going to snap if one more kid picks up one more thing.

Today I was just thinking about how much my life has changed.

We went for toilet paper today. There was no crying, no stroller and no baby to hold. Now they trail behind me like little baby ducks. There is pleasant conversation and...I just enjoy being with them. They're fun. They're weird, too. But they're fun.

I'm sure I'm making a million mistakes in my mothering.  They will have sins and struggles to deal with and I'm sure a good portion of them will be because of MY sins and struggles.  But if I can just get one thing right, I  hope that I can point them to Jesus.

Because really, how I feed them, the diapers they wear and how clean my house is matters very little in the long term. What will matter most in the long term is that they know Jesus. And how I made them feel.

So let yourself off the hook. Let the things that matter take precedence and let go of the things that you won't think about in a few years. 

Focus on pointing them to Jesus and smiling at them more!

The Buddy System

The first time I heard about the buddy system was during a TV special about the Duggars...before they had their own show, back when they only had 13 or 14 kids.  It is the one and only show of theirs I've ever watched. I have nothing against them, I'm just not into reality TV.

Their buddy system is a lot more involved than ours.  We don't expect our kids to bathe or dress one another (but then we only have five kids...if I had 13 or 14 I'm sure I'd change my tune).

Basically, we implemented this system because there are only two of us and there are five of them and we can't be everywhere all the time.  So when we go out into public, our kids know that if they have to use the restroom, or be separated from us for any reason, they take a 'buddy' (ie, another wild indian). I love it because it gives them a lot more freedom but also keeps them safe.

The number one rule of the buddy system is...use it. Duh. The number two rule of the buddy system is...you never leave your buddy behind. YOU STAY WITH YOUR BUDDY.

It's not always fun and it's not always easy.  Sometimes one kid wants to run faster than the other one...so either the kid going fast has to slow down or the kid going slow has to run faster...or a little of both. But one of those things HAS to happen. Because YOU STAY WITH YOUR BUDDY.

Sometimes it means going places you don't want to or are afraid to go. But you go anyway because YOU STAY WITH YOUR BUDDY.  Sometimes it means NOT going somewhere you want to go because your buddy has something else in mind and YOU HAVE TO STAY WITH YOUR BUDDY.

Sometimes it means watching while your buddy does something that they might get into trouble for but insist on doing. It doesn't mean you participate or approve...but you stick around in case they need help.

The only time it's okay to leave your buddy is if they are hurt or in trouble and it is beyond your ability to help them (which would include destructive behavior that they refuse to stop).  This scenario is one of our biggest reasons for implementing the buddy system in the first place. Someone knows where you are, knows what you're going through, can advise/warn you when needed and find and direct help your way.

It's a good system. It's not an easy system. It doesn't work if the buddies both demand their own way all the time.  It's a miserable system in that case. I ask my kids this question a lot "is getting your way worth being miserable over?" or "do you want to get your way or do you want to have fun?" Because it IS a choice. And most of the time they decide they'd rather come to some sort of compromise or give up their way all together rather than keep arguing.

The buddy system is a thing of beauty when both buddies work hard to make it work. There is so much fun to be had!

Being an adult isn't much different than being a kid and being married is a lot like the buddy system. It's not always fun and it's not always easy. Sometimes you have to slow down or run faster or go places you'd rather not but YOU STAY WITH YOUR BUDDY.  It requires a lot of dying to self and looking out for the interests of the other one and sometimes deciding that getting our way isn't worth being miserable. But when we treat it properly...it gives us freedom and safety and fun...and it's a beautiful thing.

Philippians 2:3,4
1 John 3:18

On Having a Perfect Marriage

It all started when I was an adolescent.

I started reading books about how to find the perfect husband and have the perfect marriage. Because I wanted both. I also wanted to be the perfect wife whose husband would adore me 24/7.

Since I've been married, I've read MORE books about how to have the perfect marriage. Because I didn't have one.

I read these books and implement what they say expecting that if I do I will have the perfect marriage I've always dreamed of. And then I mess up. Or he messes up. And just like that my hopes of having a perfect marriage are dashed again and I move on to the next book.

Even though in my head I've always known it would NEVER be perfect, because we're not, I go around feeling like a complete loser because we're not. I compare the dirt under the foundation of our house to everyone else's hardwood floors that they've prepped for me to see.

Books are great. Everyone should read books. Blogs are great. Everyone should read blogs. Seminars are great. Everyone should go to seminars. But we also have to remember that even if we read all the books and blogs and go to all of the seminars...we cannot perfectly implement all of the good information all of the time. The people who write the books and blogs and host the seminars don't have perfect marriages or lives.

And guess what?! It doesn't mean we've failed. It means we're human. It means we need Jesus.

It doesn't matter how much you have in common with someone, they are eventually going to get on your nerves.  And you might find out things about each other that neither one of you ever wanted any other human being to know about you. And if you truly invest in the level of intimacy that God intended for marriages to have...there will probably be conflict.

I've never been able to implement all the stuff in all the books I've read. But each book has spurred me on to love and good works. And some area of my marriage has improved because of it. And the thing is, small changes over time make a big difference.

I don't have a perfect marriage. But I do have a redeemed one. And the really awesome thing is...the only explanation for the difference is Jesus. Left to our own devices our marriage would be...well...what it was for a long time and worse. He has made all the difference.

I got this photo here.

Uriah Gets an Award

Recently our son Uriah was selected by his teacher to receive the "Sense of Community" award for his class. His teacher called to notify me and so the "home" kids and I made sure to make the trek over to his school to witness him receiving it.

When we got there I noticed that most of the other parents had brought their kids balloons.  At first I felt kind of bad, but it really made me think about a change of attitude I've had in the last few years.  I'm not judging the parents who brought balloons...they have their own motives and reasons for doing what they do and I don't think any less of them.

Yes, I'm proud of Uriah.  And yes we support our kids but awards like this aren't a HUGE big deal to us and here's why....

1.  I want my kids to understand that they don't have to do anything to earn my love.  I love them no matter what they do.  If they went to prison, I'd be disappointed but I wouldn't love them any less.  If they received a Nobel Peace prize, I'd be excited for them but I wouldn't love them any more than I already do.  My love for them is not based on their performance.  It's based on our relationship, it's based on who they are.

2.  Awards like this don't necessarily mean anything.  Teachers are not infallible.  They are not omnipotent.  I've witnessed kids who made my kids lives miserable (by incessant bullying and cruelty) receive this award.  And I've witnessed the efforts of kids who continually work hard go completely unnoticed and un rewarded. So depending on the level of observation by the teacher, the kid who gets the award may just be the kid who managed to make themselves look good in front of the teacher, regardless of how they behave when he/she is not looking.

3.  I want my kids to understand that we do the right thing simply because it IS the right thing...no matter who can see or if anyone else will even notice or what the reward will be. If their teacher notices, great! But if not, the peace of a clear conscience and the glory they bring to God is reward in itself.

4.  I want to, as best as I can...I am only human...give my kids a picture of how God loves them.  I want them to understand that salvation is completely unmerited...that God forgives us and loves us in spite of our sin.  And that we do good works to bring Him glory...not to earn his favor.  I don't want them to spend their life trying to earn it. I want them to bask in God's love and instead of being depressed and feeling hopeless...I want them to feel elated that their God is so awesome that He could forgive a poor wretched sinner like them. (to be clear...I do not believe that they are sinners right now...I believe that eventually they will be)

So, as of now, the only celebrating we have done or will do is taking his picture with his award. I don't think the occasion requires balloons or a special dinner.  We'll have completely unmerited balloons and a special dinner to celebrate our love for our kids on another, completely random occasion.

Progress, Not Perfection, RIGHT?

Five years ago, most of our food came from a box or a drive thru. Five years ago, cereal and frozen pizza were a staple in our house. Five years ago I couldn't understand why ANYONE would pay $2 for a pound of butter when I could buy a GINORMOUS tub of margarine for fifty cents.

While I am absolutely not going to claim that our food never comes from a drive thru or that my kids NEVER eat cereal...our lifestyle and eating habits are so different.

A few years ago I thought baking anything from scratch was just a waste of time. And I probably rolled my eyes at anyone who thought it was important.

Now, when my kids want something that comes from a box I kind of take it as a challenge to make it from scratch. I have found soooo much delight and contentment in this. 

Homemade hamburger buns and french fries...I didn't make the meat from scratch...sorry, that one just isn't in my repertoire.

Homemade and YUMMY! graham crackers...they are whole wheat and sweetened with maple syrup and honey.

Homemade Poptarts....so versatile...you could fill these with pizza fixings or any number of things.

Okay, so we've established that progress has been made (progress, NOT perfection, right?!).

Here's the thing, I have a hang up. I just haven't been able to get myself to make homemade beef stock. I make chicken stock all the time. I can find and purchase a whole chicken relatively easily. But beef stock requires me to first FIND, pick up and then carry an amputated calves foot around in my grocery cart.

I'm a wimp, I know.

But I am ready to try it. I am going to locate the place where one would purchase a calves foot, I am going to either put it in my basket or carry it to the check out, I am going to pay for it, and I am going to bring it home and put it in a pot and make beef stock.

That is what I am going to do.

Just thought you should know.

Wherein I Solve the Mystery of Why We Can't Have Nice Things

Until this afternoon, I had never ridden a scooter.

When I first stepped on I was shocked at how easy it wasn't. Well, I guess I should say it wasn't as easy as I had always assumed it was.

I got the hang of it pretty quickly though and before long I was flying down hills...announcing my joy to the world with shrieks of laughter.

It was all fun and games.

Until I realized that I didn't know where the brake was.

I desperately searched for the brake while still attempting to keep my balance, until the scooter went one way and I went the other.

For a split second, I was completely air born.

As I flew threw the air I caught a glimpse of a middle aged man passing by...staring...laughing. And he may or may not have been holding a camera.

And then I hit the ground, realized I wasn't hurt and Nathaniel revoked my scooter riding privileges.

And this, my friends, is why we can't have nice things.

The End.

Uriah demonstrating proper scooter riding technique.

I Want to Ride My Bicycle

♫♪I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike. I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride it where I like♫♪

So to save us some dough...I've been riding my bike around town to perform various errands and tasks that can be done within a reasonable distance.

For most of my errands I have two route options. The first contains a fairly steep hill. The second is completely flat but out of the way. 

So typically I talk myself into taking the hill route. I think about the extra effort I'll have to put into biking up the hill and the extra calories I can burn in the process. 

So as I bike on my merry little way, I anticipate the hill. I pedal faster and get a good pace going so that when I hit the hill I'll have a good head start so the hill won't be so much work.

But the thing is, no matter how fast I pedal in anticipation of the hill, about halfway up the hill it gets hard. Every revolution of my tires is a chore. The muscles in my legs start burning like crazy and it takes all of my focus to gain even an inch of ground.

It's at this point that I start thinking about how I should have taken the longer, but much flatter route. It hurts. It's painful and I don't like it. In that moment I couldn't possibly care less about how many calories I'm burning or the benefits to my body. All I know is that it hurts, and I don't like it.

And then I reach the top. I reach the top and head down the other side. 

The pain is gone, the wind in my hair, my heart soars and I imagine that I'm flying.

And you know what? When I'm flying down that hill I am thankful that I didn't take the flatter route. And that moment of thankfulness and the utter bliss I feel in that moment informs my decision the next time I have to decide which route to take.

In life, we have choices. We can take the flat, apathetic route that takes little to no gumption to get through...or we can take a chance on the hard route that will provoke growth. 

But the thing is, no matter how much we prepare for the difficult moments, sometimes things just get hard. They get hard and we just have to keep pedaling. It hurts and it's not pleasant, but we keep going. 

And eventually we get to the top. 

Are you facing an uphill battle? Are things tough for you right now? Is it all you can do to get out of bed in the morning? 

Don't give up! You're almost to the top! Just keep pedaling! You can do it!

Let me know if there's something I can do to encourage you! Or pray for you about!

Exhibit A

Being the mom of five wild indians makes my life interesting.

Exhibit A:

Yesterday I loaded them all into our Wild Indian Wagon and stopped to get gas.

Apparently our local fillin' station has had problems with people leaving the pump nozzles clicked down and spilling gas everywhere so they took the little whatchamacallits that hold the trigger on the nozzle down off. And a 47 gallon tank  takes a while to fill when you've run the tank purty near empty.

Meanwhile...back at the ranch...err...back inside the Wild Indian Wagon...my very wild Wild Indians decided to reenact Custer's Last Stand...on a very small scale since I'm pretty sure Custer and the Native Americans had a much larger space to battle it out in than the backseat of a Suburban.

I'm pretty sure you couldn't get hydraulics to make that thang move in the way it was moving. For reals...you know in cartoons when a group of kids gets into a fight and all you see is a cloud? There's a reason for that. The person who came up with that must have had five wild indians too.

So I stood there pumping gas, pretending to ignore the commotion inside the vehicle...which was pretty difficult since I was leaning up against it.

And believe me, people were staring. But, being the mother of five wild indians, it's a pretty common occurrence around these here parts.

All of this is going on and the guy at the next pump decides it's a good time to strike up a conversation. He asks me about the kids, acts shocked when I tell him how many there are and that, yes! they are ALL mine.

And then he hit on me. I don't know if he's crazy, desperate or if he just thought any woman with that many kids could probably use a boost. I don't know. He promptly left.

After what seemed like a million years at the time, I finished filling the tank, and got back into the car expecting for the refereeing part of my job to commence but...

Somehow they had reached a truce. They were happy as larks. They were sweaty and disheveled but you'd have never known they had just fought the battle of the century. I don't even know what the battle was about and I doubt they remember either.

I'm sure that all the people at that gas station thought I was a horrible mother for not interrupting their fight...and maybe I am. But I think it's nice for them to work things out themselves...to either figure out a way to solve the problem or just decide it isn't worth it. Because, let's be honest, I won't always be there to do that for them. When they grow up and have a spouse...mama definitely can't step in and solve the problem. It's all them and Jesus! So I might as well save myself some energy and give them a chance to practice!

Errr....or something like that! That's my story and I'm stickin' to it!

Something Worth Fighting For

Confession: I'm a drama queen.

So Michael works full time and goes to school full time. And he's a music major...and if you don't know why that would make matters different, bless you!

Anyway, so I really only see him in passing from Tuesday morning until Sunday (he literally comes in, showers, changes clothes and leaves again).

Thursdays are particularly lonely for me and I always think of this line from Cold Mountain, "If you are fighting, stop fighting. If you are marching, stop marching. Come back to me. Come back to me is my request." I am particularly awful at accents of any sort so even though I say it in my best southern belle accent...I'll spare you.

And then I imagine myself as a delicate southern belle (even though in real life I'd be more suited for the role of Ruby Thewes) at home keeping house, waiting for my soldier who's off fighting some heroic battle. I imagine him reading those words and  walking on beaches and over mountains, eating crawdads and goat meat, being nursed by some old lady with bitter herbs, walking through snow and ice, moving heaven and earth to get back to me...

until finally I hear the roar of a motorcycle engine pull into our driveway.

My soldier is home.

I know, he's not out fighting a literal battle. But he is fighting. He is fighting for our family.

The best part is that he gets to come home often enough so that neither one of us forgets what he's fighting for. Because that's important. There are no deserters here, no giving up because we can't remember what we're fighting for.

This is real. We are real. We aren't perfect but we are redeemed. Redeemed by a fierce God who has fought the battle of the ages and won.

Because this is something worth fighting for.

Trying Something New

Sometimes I feel stuck. And sometimes it's necessary to look at what's working and what's not and make the changes to remove the obstacles in the way of growth.

Sometimes it's not that what I'm currently doing is not working, maybe I'm just bored or uninspired.

Every once in a while it's just time to try something new. Even if I fail or don't do well, I learn something new. Usually that I need to learn or practice more.

So far this year I haven't made as much progress on my goals for the year as I would have hoped. So I'm going to try something new.

1.  I'm going to spend a few minutes in the evening assessing the day and planning for the next day.

2.  I'm going to share with you how the day went and what my goals for the next day are and what I'll do differently based on how the day went.

Today I was on the computer too much and didn't get enough done around my house...and didn't do enough to feed my soul.

So here's what I'll change for tomorrow...

"Mom" Goals for tomorrow:

1. No tv
2. Have Bible Bedtime.
3. Spend at least 5 minutes just talking with each kid
4. Do something active with my kids
5. Have dinner at the table together: Hearty Taco Casserole, Salad

Personal Goals for tomorrow:

1.  Have quiet time
2. Spend 15 minutes cleaning each room
3. Run 3-4 miles
4. Fold laundry/put it away 
5. Write. 
6. Start Red Velvet cake.

So there you go...that's what I'll be working on tomorrow!

What's working or NOT working for YOU?! Have you tried anything new lately?

The LORD'S lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, For His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.-- Lamentations 3:22-23

My Prayer for My Kids

I'm pretty sure there's nothing more painful than having to see your kids in pain. It's tough to witness the hurt and humiliation on their face after being rejected. And as a mother I want to fix it and make it go away. We all want our kids to be happy, healthy and successful. Right?!

I used to pray that my kids would have friends. I used to pray that they would be successful. I used to see a poor or even mediocre performance on a report card as a sign of my own failure (because all the studies show that if you're doing it right you have smart and socially healthy kids, right?!). I used to feel embarrassed and humiliated at church when my kids did something all the other parents were shocked by.

And to be honest, sometimes my initial reaction is still the same.

But I've stopped praying for those things. And I've stopped caring what anyone else thinks of my kids...because we're not here to receive the approval of men and we're even warned to be worried when all men speak well of us. So I've stopped praying for those things and started just praying that God would use them and their circumstances to bring glory to Himself...and that He would mold them into something beautiful for His kingdom. And if that means having to watch them be rejected, fail at school and, by earthly standards, at life and that all the other parents in the world think that me and my kids are poster children for how to get it all wrong...then I trust Him...and I want Him to do whatever it takes.

Because my treasure is in Heaven, and that's exactly where I want my children!

An Unsure End

This morning on our way to our favorite donut shop I got a brilliant idea!

We pulled up to the shop, I handed Caleb money to pay for the donuts and I sent my five wild indians into the donut shop. Alone. Without me.

I sat in the car...in complete peace and quiet and enjoyed my time immensely...only slightly holding my breath about what the outcome of this "brilliant idea" would be...because "what do you get when you send five wild indians into a donut shop?" sounds like a bad joke that I'd rather not know the punchline to.

A few months ago I read an article about over parenting and was really startled by how much I recognized myself in it. Cause, see, I'm a controller and that tends to make me a 'no' mom because saying yes might lead to a situation I can't control and that's really scary for me.

When I was Caleb's age I was riding my bike all over town running bank and grocery errands for my parents. And while I know that times have changed since then and we probably should be more careful, my over parenting seriously stunts my children's growth in maturity and creativity.

So, I've started weighing whether my inclination to say no is a real concern for their safety or for my own comfort.   And honestly, I have seen them blossom in the last few months. They've made friends, spent more time outside and been more creative. And that really makes me want to give them freedom...because kids need that! And guess what?! I need that too! It's pretty silly how much stress I heap upon myself needlessly!

photo courtesy of Alisha Hurt PHotography

So out of the donut shop they came...with the owner following them. And I'm thinking "oh no! What did they do?!?!"

I opened the car door and stepped out expecting the owner to reprimand me for sending them in alone.

Instead she smiled and told me they were the most well behaved kids she'd ever had in her shop AND she had given them donut holes as a reward for being so good. Ashamedly, I was shocked.

The kids handed me their change and filed into the car full of a sense of accomplishment.  The told me all about their donut shop experience while I silently thanked God for His goodness and felt the slight tinge of conviction for not having more faith in God and in my children.

It was a good day!

Sometimes My Kids Set Me Straight

Last night, as we got home from church, it was late. Uriah and Elisabeth were both having meltdowns and the older kids were fussing up a storm. So I hurried them through their bedtime routines.

In a flurry of brushed teeth, clothes changed and laid out, they got into bed.

Here's where I sighed a BIG sigh of relief.

And then from the boys room I heard a voice, "Mommy, can we say a prayer?"

This is what went through my head...Yeah, jerk mom! Why didn't you ALREADY say a prayer? What kind of mom ARE YOU?!

So I got the girls out of bed and we all gathered in the boys room. And let me tell ya, a portion of that prayer was a humbled pleading for God to change me and thankfulness for the ways He already has.

On some days I think my parenting goal is simply to survive. But that's not what parenting is about. Yeah, there are rough days. But parenting is about showing them who God is. Even our imperfections can point their hearts toward Him. Because our imperfections remind us, and them, that they need a Savior and that we are not it.

So, yeah, I'm not a perfect mom. I am a deeply flawed mom depending on the grace of God to change me and to leave my children as un scarred by my imperfections as they can be.

Praise God for His mercy and grace!