Archive for July, 2011
Read This if Your Husband is Leaving Town
I knew this might happen, but I was so busy it still caught me by surprise.
I’ve run out of paper plates.
It may be the turning point in our rather remarkable, un-horrible week.
Buying a large stack of paper discs sturdy enough to bear breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a very wise decision on my part, I must admit. Five plates per meal, fifteen plates total per day.
Fifteen plates beautifully smeared with food and shoved in the garbage instead of my sink. Environmental poison though they may be, I love those paper plates. There are seasons that require paper plates.
Post baby delivery.
Because your the Mama and you say so.
Husband (who usually does the nightly kitchen job) has gone for six days.
I face the choice: to buy plates for the final day, or to allow the fifteen plates to accumulate and hope they won’t take me to a dark place.
So far (okay, after the first few rocky days), I’ve managed to stay in the light.
“Mommy I’m going to throw up!” cried my ten year old as the five of us entered Trader Joe’s, but it did not bring me down.
The croup and fever of said child did not break me.
As my son asked tonight for a snack at bedtime and upon receiving my answer called out, “I will die in my bed if I don’t eat!” I simple offered him my prayers and knew there was chocolate later (for me).
Surely I’ve learned an important lesson through the journey of these last five days.
Do the math in the store and buy enough plates.
I’m also out of paper towels.
The God of Future Grace
After a week of practicing how to get the family somewhere early (hint: Vacation Bible School), we’ve made it on time. Even with Daddy out of town.
I stand for worship and Drummer boy climbs onto the chair so that his head is even with mine and his body fits into my left arm. On my right Jellybean moves into the other open arm and Mookie, left with no side to take, grabs my hand instead.
“He is wonderful, He is glorious,
Clothed in righteousness, full of tenderness.”
Voices of all ages join together and my heart lands on the word tenderness. I think back to the times that I’ve raised my voice (code phrase for yelled) or been impatient with the bickering this past week and again I feel the warm bodies pressed in from all directions. I’m in awe and thankful that they still desire to be with me much less really be with me skin and heart and all.
I begin to think of a nice blog post about God’s tenderness and mercy.
I also compose a few pretend conversations in my head that might occur after the service.
“What a sweet picture your family was this morning,” a friend behind us might lean forward and comment.
I’ll look surprised and moved, “We’ve had a quite a week, too. Isn’t God merciful?”
(You might have noticed that I’ve paused in my worship.)
I’m a few sentences into my mental blog draft when I notice that my son has his finger in his nose with the hand that’s not holding me in a sweet hug.
“Joshua, don’t do that,” I whisper.
“I have to.”
“No you don’t.”
“I need a kleenex.”
I disengage from the girls embraces and we leave the front row and head down the long aisle, a rather tight smile issuing from my face as we see familiar faces in the pews.
He arms himself with toilet paper and we return to the front row, the return trip doesn’t require smiling because we only see the backsides of heads.
We take up our stance for worship and I look for some more words in the music that might remind of that tenderness I was so keen on a few minutes ago.
I’m distracted by the familiar nose-picking gesture, enhanced now with a long trail of toilet paper across my sons lap. Every few minutes he removes it from his nose and looks at the excavation.
For my son’s sake, I should mention here that I forgot to give him his allergy medication before leaving the house and he has a very legitimate itchy, runny nose and a six year old amount of self-control.
The girls have noticed their brother’s particular struggle and they’ve created a distance between our side and their side. Snuggle time is over.
I’m absolutely sure that at least three families have a good view of the nose cleaning party so I try strategy number 1.
Distraction.
“Color in your sketch book, it will make the time go faster I promise,” I conjole.
He grunts a “no” and I pick up the sketchbook myself, thinking I’ll draw something that will lure him into my plan.
After a brief sketch time, I hand him the markers and pencil to fill in my design.
He hands them back to me and gestures for me to do my own coloring.
By this time the pastor is exhorting the congregation from the book of Luke but the name of the book is all I’ve gotten so far. Which makes me angrier because don’t I deserve to have a few minutes to hear this passage thank you very much.
“I need more toilet paper.”
We leave the front row again and I feel the eyes (I say feel, because I’m looking at the floor this time, not at faces) of criticism follow us down the length of the pew.
We return and I make a desperate grab for the bulletin, looking for the scripture and notes for the day. The runny, itchy nose has moved into tremors down the boy’s arms and legs and he’s intermittedly flopping across my lap like a dead fish or putting toilet paper in his nose.
Thoughts from the mom’s behind me float forward as clear as if they’re appearing in print on my sermon notes.
“You shouldn’t have sat on the front row. You’re family is so distracting.”
“Why doesn’t your son have better manners about his nose?”
“What a sweet, sweet picture,” one mom thinks, as she looks past us to the very composed family on our left.
Seeing that distraction is a fool’s game, I move on to quiet threats.
“If you don’t get that out of your nose and settled down you will not be going to your class when this is over,”
I whisper fiercely, knowing how much he loves his teachers, even as my hand gently rubs his arm to demonstrate that I’m a loving mom.
These scenarios repeat like a scratched cd until finally it’s time to past the collection plates and sing one last song.
I remember the touching blog about God’s tenderness that remains saved in my head from forty-five minutes ago. Something like laughter, but not the funny kind, slips from my throat. Not even a few minutes of peace in church, I rant inwardly.
I’m weighted down with condemnation and snotty toilet paper. What happened to God’s tenderness and mercy that I wanted to give thanks for less than an hour ago? Where is it now? This doesn’t feel merciful at all.
(Mercifully) I realize that I’ve been experiencing self-condemnation not God’s condemnation. Even if some of the thoughts I imagined from other Mamas are real, that’s still not condemnation from the Lord. I imagine running into Jesus as we exit the sanctuary and realize He’s already meeting me with mercy and grace.
Looking ahead to the rest of the day (day 3 of temporary single parenting), I see future acts of sin (mine and the kids) and future acts of grace (the Lord’s first and hopefully mine soon to follow).
“But you, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.”
Psalm 86: 15
How Can I Catch Their Summer Magic?
Apparently they’ll find their summer anyway, because they are KIDS.
How easily the breakfast dishes, piles of unsorted school books, and house projects ease from their mind.
“When were there cabs and early cars at the same time?” a child interrupts my inner concerns about our summer that seems lonely to me.
“Um, cabs. Do you mean cars or wagons?”
“Wagons.”
“Early 1900.”
“Okay.”
And the learning room becomes 1906.
As I attend to their baby sister and pitter about some little chores, I can’t help but notice again how easily their ordinary world transforms into something new (or old, in the case of time travel)) and potentially exciting.
I look around and will the walls to open wide and reveal for me, too, a peak into another world-maybe something with sand and a really good book.
The walls remains stubbornly intact and I settle for a boost of hot chocolate.
Back in the early 1900s, it’s starting to rain.
And they run into it.
I lean toward them, hoping a little bit of their magic will splash my way.
Extraordinary Example of Perseverance
Of wondering about those care-free pool days that I hear about each summer.
Of stepping near the cliff that will only take me to self-pity and away from the word of truth that gives life.
I find myself again questioning God’s hand in suffering, and how to walk through these weeks with any measure of grace.
I thought of my pastor’s words, how there are times we need to be gently rebuked and reminded of the truth and promises of God’s word. I needed someone to throw a shoe at me.
And then I thought about my daughter.
My extraordinary daughter.
The one we called mountain goat (the literal meaning of her name), princess, stubborn, and named after the girl who put a tent peg in a guy’s head (see the book of Judges). The Lord gave her a name of beauty and strength and she’s demonstrated at least one of those attributes each day of her life.
(Just a brief note on Jellyfish. She was born with a heart defect and underwent heart surgery when she was four days old. She was also missing a bone and finger on her left arm. I don’t often describe her so specifically because it’s a very limited view of her as a person, but in this case it helps tell her story.)
Early on, as she learned to crawl with an arm cast and then walk with a cast, and then walk with a cast and hold about ten toys in her hands, we had a pretty good view of her determination.
When she learned to tie her shoes, ride a bike, rollerblade, and swim, my awe of this particular character trait enlarged. It wasn’t in the moment of accomplishment, it was watching her in the process. Her eye on the goal, come what may.
In the last year she’s also fallen in love with God’s word, which has only expanded her beauty and determination.
On the before side of this last surgery I told friends she was going to go through it fighting, pushing forward, surprising us all.
And she did.
And as I look back over the past few weeks I realize I can take a few cues from her on how to walk through the next few weeks.
When she was scared, she asked me to pray. I can ask people who care for me to pray for me.
When she was in pain, she breathed slowly, in and out, through the pain. She could have competed with the best of mamas in labor. I can ask God to help me endure the pain but not spend my time running to escape it.
When she needed peace and rest she listened to our church worship CD. I can worship God despite my circumstances as He remains the same each day.
When she came home to face three weeks using her non-dominant (and structurally challenged) hand, she wrote, drew and ate, and climbed trees with that hand. Let me add here that she’s also a perfectionist. So normally she wouldn’t stand for wobbly letters and drawings, but her determination overtook her perfectionism. I can keep walking forward instead of letting fear paralyze me.
When the physical therapist assigned homework, Jellyfish did twice the number of exercises without once needing a reminder. I can be strong because He who made me has already given me everything I need for every good work.
And after a challenging session today, she told the therapist, “That was satisfying”. I can move with God instead of against His hand. For “how much more should I submit to the father of our spirits and live.” (Hebrews 12:9)
“No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.”
-Hebrews 12:12 (The twelfth chapter of Hebrews is a great place to turn for encouragement and truth during a difficult trial.)
Mama Help from Mama Blogs
I knew the bickering was an inevitable fate.
As a homeschool family we’re home all the time together, so that’s not a new element for summer.
But now we’re at home together, with no goals or forward motion.
We have a cast on one child, so no pools.
We have a two year old which adds limitations that some of my friends with a five year old and up have left behind.
That means during the summer I often feel left behind. And with too much time inside, and a couple of siblings who have a constant opinion about every movement or word uttered by another sibling, well, kaboom.
And kaboom for Mama!
By tuesday even kind words were leading to explosions.
Mookie is unhappy with her piece of art. ”This just isn’t right!
Her sister approaches and I hold my breath since her instinct is usually to give specific insight of what would improve someone else’s art.
“I think it’s great,” she encouraged.
I let my breath out.
Mookie rolls her eyes and gives her sister the death stare, assuming that the compliment was only a cover for a hidden criticism.
Kaboom, I explode.
A few nights ago I was aimlessly wandering through blogland in an attempt to ignore the challenges that awaited me the next day, and I found a couple of weapons, well, wisdom, well, life jackets, that lifted me up for the rest of the week.
After the first minutes of exploring the blog Inspired to Action, I’d already decided that all of the encouragement I’d ever wanted to give to mamas had already been written, with more wisdom and more wit and more skill than I had in me, so I better just stop blogging and maybe take up a new hobby. Something non-computer or writing related, such as fly fishing.
I’m so glad she is such a great writer and passionate mom because watching the video she’s recorded about motherhood and skimming her ebook about how to get a better start to my morning reminded me that my purpose as a mother is greater than just to survive.
I’d started to forget this week.
Some of the inspiring resources on her site that you need to check out:
- Her Video (start here if you’re having a bad mama day and then you’ll have a little renewed “umph” to print out her more practical ideas.
- A prayer calender for your children (that’s you praying for your children)
- A prayer calender for your husband
- A FREE e-book entitled Maximize Your Mornings-this is a very funny, encouraging book, not at all written in the style of an army drill sergeant Mama who might make you feel worse than better.
- Another FREE e-book entitled Mission Statements for Moms
- There’s even more.
In the same session of late night perusal, I found some new resources on Quiet Times for Kids.
- Check out their video blogs with tips on parenting.
- Go to their Free Printables Page to print a Yield Sign with Scripture designed to slow down sibling rivalry.
- Print out the blessing jar coupons to reward your children for yielding with their mouths, attitudes, and hearts.
- Buy their new Bible Study on the Armor of God and receive two dollars off (coupon code is “twodollarsoff”)
I’ve been going back to all of these resources over the past few days. I’ve started to change my morning routine, waking up just a bit earlier in order to be ready to greet my kids. We’ve also introduced the yield signs and the blessing jar starts monday.
Thank goodness for moms who share their wisdom and their imperfection.
