A quiet celebration

I whine enough on this blog, so I thought I would take a quick moment and share a quiet celebration.

My in-laws visited for a few days and left yesterday.  They are really wonderful people--I'm very blessed.  The irony is that even though they are fantastic, I have a tendency to get all weird b/c I feel like I have to impress them.  Still.  After 10 years of marriage and giving them 3 grandsons, I feel like I have to meet this fictitious standard of perfection in front of them.  Things like having a sparkling house, well-behaved children, delicious meals and merry-making all around.

What?  Where did that odd idea come from?  Not them.  My MIL regularly reminds me that when her kids were little it was tough for her to keep up with all the laundry, cleaning,etc that goes along with motherhood.

Here comes the celebration:  I relaxed and enjoyed their visit.  My house was clean enough for all to be comfortable.  My boys were themselves and were loved just as they are.  I will say I rocked the food element.  I made a gnocchi dish for supper that was very popular.  I baked pumpkin bread that was also good.  I even served cookies and kale chips that I had made.  All very well accepted.  In my own foodie health nut way, I was a good hostess.  I also made gallons of coffee.

More than anything else, I just stepped back and let my in-laws enjoy their time here.  I tried to not hover and just let people be.  Very, very good.

One other small celebration--last night got a bit chaotic with taking down the tree and putting away decorations.  Before starting supper, I took some time to recharge.  I read a new cookbook I got for Christmas.  After that 10 minutes, I was ready to go again and was much more pleasant.  It's tricky to know what's going to help me relax but I'm getting better at it, much to Aaron's delight.

No one cares about my dirty floor

I'm thinking about my goal:  keep the long-range focus in mind.

In the long run, what is important today?  To have fun with my boys.  We're home, don't have anywhere we have to be, and have all day to just be.

Wish I was better at being.  I know my in-laws will be here this afternoon and a part of me kicks into hyper worry mode that my house is a mess and they will think I'm a horrible mate to their son and mother to their grandchildren because of the squalor. 

Taking the step back, I rationally know that I don't have to gain anyone's approval.  I'm whole in Christ, loved and accepted for who I am.  It has nothing to do with the cleanliness of my house, the quality of the boys' clothes or the quantity of Christmas decorations we have.  That felt good to write.  I'm loved for just being me.  I really should cross stitch that on a pillow.

I have a list of tasks for us to do around the house that really do need to be done anyway.  My twins love helping me clean.  I've accepted that they won't do a fantastic job, but I would prefer to celebrate their good effort and just live with a not perfect job.  The little guy is negative help.  He wears me out on cleaning day, but I try to take a deep breath and remind myself that this is a season of my life.  In 3 months it will be different.

Yesterday I got out my fave Christmas toy that I got the boys:  a Hank the Cowdog card game.  Boys 1 and 2 played go fish with me with the character cards while #3 took a rare nap.  I loved it!  They are still a bit young to really get it, but it was fun for me.  I kept the long-range focus in mind:  enjoy this day with my boys.  Today I'll work hard to do the same.

Moving more

My friend had borrowed the book, The Me Project, and returned it to me a few weeks ago.  I decided with Christmas looming, to wait to pull it back out until after the excitement of the holidays ebbed a bit.  When I do, I'll follow the book's advice to choose one of my 50 goals and take action to make it happen.

Today I reviewed my 50 goals. It was neat--if I make progress towards a goal, I write a little snipit and date it.  Today I got to write some updates.  Felt good.

One of the goals that I think is most pressing is to move more.  It's not that I'm inactive, but I'm starting to see that at 34 if I don't get more active my future might not be so bright.  So, for two days in a row now I've done yoga.

I won't lie--I don't love yoga.  I love how it makes me feel, but I would much prefer a really loud cardio class at a gym that gets my blood really pumping.  Unfortunately, I gave up my gym membership when I was pregnant with #3.  I have to make due with what's available to me around the house.  Yoga is the easy target.  Not earth shattering for me, but something.  I also like hitting tennis balls against the garage door.  My boys don't love that, but not everything is about them all the time.  Until the ball hits them.  Then it becomes about them.  Good thing I'm not good enough to make the ball go too hard and also a good thing that they generally watch out.

The holiday aftermath

As a conclusion from my previous angry car post, it turns out my tire had a tear in it.  Somehow we limped to my parents' house, airing the tire up every 30 minutes.  Super fun.  Instead of an almost 4 hour drive, it was 5.  I can't complain too loud because A-we made it there and B-we made it to a tire place that was open and was able to replace the tire.  Much better than possible alternatives.  Still makes me grouchy thinking about it, though.

Today the holiday aftermath is in full force.  As a rule I make breakfast before I do much on the computer, but today I'm breaking my rule.  I wanted to take a moment to share my thoughts with the hope that getting them out I'll be a more cheerful mom.

Aaron gently got onto me for being grouchy this morning.  In my defense, as I write this, I have a whiny 3 year old complaining that dad didn't let him try his mashed potatoes while he packed up his lunch. 

The mornings are tricky for me.  I really am a morning person, but I get up at 5:30 so I can spend some time with the Lord before the day really gets going.  The trouble is that my boys get up between 5:15 and 6.  On good days they leave me in peace but on days like today, they don't.  Yes, I know that as parents we could make the rule that they can't leave their rooms until a certain time.  We're close to that.  I think I may campaign for it for 2013.  We'll just see.

Back to today.  We celebrated Christmas Day with my parents on Christmas Eve and then came back home that afternoon.  A winter storm was headed this direction and we wanted to beat it home.  Good choice except that I got the mother of all stomach bugs the night before Christmas Eve.  Yuck.  Made for a not so fun Christmas celebration for me, but life went on.

On the spiritual side of life, I had a wonderful Christmas.  I got to worship in my parents' church on the 23rd and it was a great time with the Lord.

I just wish the aftermath of Christmas with little kids didn't involve extra tears due to tired boys, extra clean-up due to new toys and extra energy on my part to juggle all this which I have to find somewhere.

Aaron very kindly let me go to the movies yesterday afternoon.  I really wanted to see Les Mis and I packed up to go.  I got there and it was sold out.  Huge bummer.  I've actually read the book, seen it onstage a few times and have the piano music.  I love the drama of it and was really excited to see it.  Being so close but missing it made me even grumpier than what I would have been cooped up in my house dealing with the afore mentioned headaches of these days.  Oh well.  Such is the human condition.  I can be thankful for a warm house, healthy kids and a job that my husband can go to so we can be provided for.

My prayer for today:  Lord, give me an extra measure of patience.  Help me be kind and loving to my boys.

Time to cook the eggs.

Deep breaths about cars

I drive a death trap.  My husband doesn't understand the emotional weirdness I have with the car.  I was in a wreck in it a few years ago and ever since then, I just don't feel safe in it.

This morning, I'm switching car seats from the pickup back to the van and I see it:  the front driver's side wheel is completely flat.  This is the one that got aired up for me by the kind car guy just 2 weeks ago.

Grrr.  Anyone else angry at their car?  I know I'm being weird and according to my husband, I just need to turn my feelings off.  Yep.  That happens.

Crackling fire

As I write this, the TV is set to the crackling fireplace as Christmas music plays.  Somehow that's really relaxing and nice.

I'm having a weird December.  I'm calling it my slacker December because I'm trying really hard not to force "Christmas cheer" on myself or my family.  The trouble is that I bounce from being completely "unChristmassy" (meaning I'm not doing anything for the holidays) to becoming crazy Christmas weirdo lady ordering her husband around and being generally unpleasant. 

In years past I've used my Christmas organizing binder to help me plan the holidays.  Its cons were obvious to my husband--it made me be way too ambitious about what we could do in a month.  I had this weird need to do every activity I saw in magazines, have the perfect Christmas card and somehow put reindeer glitter over everything in my home.  Clearly, a recipe for disaster. 

So, this year I've intentionally not touched the binder.  It's been freeing, but I know in the back of my head that many things have to happen before Dec 24.  I'm a big believer in teacher thank you gifts.  I actually enjoy doing these and this year I'm doing a baked/ish good for them that I'm excited about.  But they won't magically make themselves, be prettified in their wrapping or be at the right place at the right time without me planning.

So, today my boys are at MDO.  Instead of scurrying around town, I'm home.  I did some Christmas cards as I listened to my favorite Christmas CD.  I plan to make the white chocolate pretzel goodies in a bit.  But for now, I'm taking a deep breath.  The weirdly hypnotic fire on the TV is helping. 

At a deeper level, I know today my spirit just needs to mend a bit.  I found out the sister of a dear friend passed away last weekend.  Even though I only met the sweet lady once, the hurt for my friend takes a toll on me.  So today I'll play the piano a bit.  Somehow that helps me vent my emotions.  There's something about playing songs of the faith as I sing along that just helps me feel like God is patting me on the shoulder, reminding me that even when my heart is heavy, he's here.  Barb is in heaven with him, singing right along with me.

And then I think I'll get out the binder.  Maybe not.  We'll just see.

New #33--car care

I decided to replace my current #33 (find a pulled pork recipe we love) with something much more pressing:  Know how to maintain my vehicle.

This summer, I had a flat and couldn't fix it.  A kind stranger saved the day.  Today I had a low tire, pulled into a gas station, plugged .75 3 times while my husband talked me through how to air it up.  I realized tearfully that the tire was completely flat.  No air had entered the tire.  My boys were in the car, waiting for me to fix the tire. My husband works 45 minutes away from where I was.  Not good.

A kind cable guy pulled up and asked politely if I needed help.  Yes.  He told me to pull through to a better air pump.  That sounded odd since a Waffle House was in the direction he was pointing.  He told me to wait a second while he made sure there was help there.  OK.  He drove back and told me to pull into the spot by the state inspection.  OK.

It was a tire lube place.  They directed me in, aired up the tire and sent me on my way in less than 5 minutes.  The cable guy even waited to be sure I was OK.  How sweet is that?  Sometimes it really is nice to live in a small town.

My dad raised me to be a princess.  He did my car stuff for me and thought if I knew how to call AAA I was equipped for whatever car issue came my way. 

My husband's family doesn't work that way.  They don't cry when something breaks--they fix it.  We've been married almost 10 years and Aaron didn't know I didn't know how to use the air compressor.  I'll be sure he teaches me very soon.

After the flat last summer, I asked him to watch the boys inside so I could use the car manual and figure out where my flat is (not easy), get it out and get it ready to change.  I'm not confident I'm strong enough to get the lug nuts off the tire, but I do know how to get the flat out.  We should probably practice with the jack while we're doing the air compressor lesson.  Such fun being a grown-up.

Motherhood story

Sacrificing a favorite shirt for my sons

I'm a city girl. A bagger at the grocery store actually asked if I knew the TV show “Green Acres” because I reminded him of a girl who left the city, moved out to the country and pretended to be a farmer.

I wasn't sure if I should be complimented (that actress was really pretty) or insulted. The fact is that I do live in rural Texas with my farmer husband and 3 loud boys. They love the wide open spaces and revel in the chance to explore. We were outside one afternoon, boys playing, me reading a magazine. It was peaceful. It was nice. I should have known that when all appears serene, calm and lovely in the world of raising 3 small boys, some mischief is brewing.

Walt, one of my 5-year-old twins, was limping towards me with tears in his eyes. “Mommy, I need my boots!” he sniffled. I noticed he was very muddy and not wearing shoes.

I looked down at my favorite white shirt. Date night was in about an hour and the white shirt would be the perfect thing—I had the outfit all planned out in my head. My attention snapped back from pondering my clothes as I could hear the other two boys at the bottom of the hill, laughing along with the unique sound of mud thudding.

I threw caution to the wind and decided to carry Walt up the hill to the house. He didn't have much mud—I thought I could prove the strength of my stain remover if he got me a bit muddy. I told him to strip down and wait for me on the back patio while I gathered up brothers.

John, twin #2, met me climbing out of the pond, also with tears. His shoes and socks had gotten sucked into the mud and he was climbing barefoot. His face was muddy as were his feet. There was no way I was going to let him trudge up the hill with grassburrs eagerly awaiting his tender little feet. I picked him up under an arm and carried him to the back patio.

I then headed back down for boys#3, David, a 3-year-old that loves mud. He was covered in it. His feet were stuck in the mud but it didn't bother him. When he saw me, he greeted me happily with, “Hi, Mommy! Want to play mud fight?” No, I didn't. He was happy so I decided to salvage socks and shoes of brothers while he played a bit longer. The shoes and socks were completely submerged in the filth. It took some effort to find them all. I threw them back up the hill, hoping I could find them later. I then went for David.

I looked down at my white shirt. There were brown smears from mud, but it was still salvagable. After carrying David I knew I would be covered in brown. For a moment I considered taking the shirt off and quickly carrying David up the hill. The back of our house is pretty much hidden from the neighbors, but the hill can be seen if someone is looking as they drive by. I chose not to be the weird nudist neighbor that would probably become popular with my male neighbors but very unpopular with their wives.

I scooped David up and got ready to climb out of the pit and up the hill. The mud happily sucked his light up sneakers into the mud. I quickly pulled them out and thew them up the hill. I pulled him up under my right arm and started out of the mud, but my rain boots stayed put. They were stuck. I had a moment of panic—my twins were unsupervised on the back patio, the 3-year-old depending on me to get him up the hill and I was unable to move. I took a deep breath, put him down, pulled my boots away from the vicious enemy mud, picked him back up and trudged up the hill for the third time.

When I put him down, I looked down and saw my lovely shirt was completely covered in mud and I was mad. They stripped, bathed and were happy in Pjs watching TV as I quickly got ready for my date. I called my mom, expecting empathy. Nope. She instead gave me a lecture about keeping a better eye on the boys when they're playing outside. I told my husband, expecting a big hug and a heartfelt thank you for all I sacrifice for my boys. I thought he may even offer to get me a new shirt to replace the ruined one. Instead, he told me since no one was hurt I needed to let it go and not make such a big deal of it. Awesome. Just what I wanted to hear.

So I called a friend. A fellow mom in the trenches that does her best every day like I do. She listened, laughed at the appropriate places and told me to write this one down and add it to the other adventures I've had with the boys. Like when one dropped a board on my head from the play fort, resulting in a horrible black eye. No hospital visit, but certainly embarrassing at church and grocery shopping.

Mothering has picture perfect moments like first words, celebrating staying dry all night long in underwear and watching a preschooler proudly write the letters in his name. Motherhood also means making lots of sacrifices like privacy (going to the bathroom alone is such a luxury!), a tidy house and quiet. Even the wardrobe goes through a change as favorite shirts get ruined and high heels put on the shelf because they make catching boys really challenging. And dangerous for me.

Through all this, it sure is nice to have friends I can call who really get it. Whose kids also ruin their clothes right before date night. The Lord knew I would need an army of mom friends to help me remember to laugh through the various adventures of motherhood.

My mom was right—I was at fault for not watching the boys more closely. My husband was also right—no one was hurt so this really wasn't a big deal. But it was a big deal to me that they could have been hurt, that I had been physically trapped in the mud and that a favorite piece of clothing was no longer. My friends got it. They reminded me that one day this will be a great story to tell my daughters-in-law as we watch my grandkids do equally ridiculous things.

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I would love comments!  I have until Friday to submit this.  If you think it should be cut down, tell me.  If I didn't explain something well, let me know so I can.  The competition doesn't have a word limit and the winners are going to be used to help Matthew West write a song dedicated to MOPs moms for Mother's Day.  I don't know if my voice is representative of other MOPs moms, but who knows?  Maybe Matthew West will write a song all about this crazy adventure.

And the beat goes on

So funny.  One of my 50 goals is to be a part of a writing contest.  I thought I could do one a few months ago, but my "story" was more like a mom memoir.  Sweet, glad I wrote it, but not a good fit.

Now, at MOPs international, there's a writing contest for mom stories!  How cool is that?  What's even cooler is that something totally, complete odd happened last Friday that I'm itching to share with the world.  And now I can. 

The deadline is midnight Friday but I'm good with that.  I'll work on it and post it here soon.  I'm so excited!

Toy closet success

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving surprise:  my wonderful MIL whisked my boys away to her house for the Monday and Tuesday before Thanksgiving.  My husband had to work Monday and Tuesday, so we met halfway Sunday after church, switched boys to her car and they had loads of fun with her and my FIL while I had some time to just rest.

I'm not great at resting.  I'm getting better at it, but I'm nowhere near as good at it as I wish I was.  I did take all of an hour to clean out the toy closet.  I gave a few things away but mostly I just rearranged it.  Not a huge thing, but it sure is a nice feeling when I open that door daily for room time and every toy is in its place.  Until Christmas when I know I'll have to rearrange again.  Oh well. 

Beyond that, I just took it slow.  No huge shopping trips.  Nothing for Christmas.  I just didn't want to.  So, I went to the library and got some books and DVDs for me.  I read an Evanovich.  Not classical literature, but one of the authors that makes me laugh out loud.  I also read the next Ann of Green Gables.  I didn't read them as a girl and have been hugely blessed by reading them now.  Side note--I'm on #8, the last of the series.  I'm a third of the way through and I've decided to not finish it.  I never do this, but it's just too sad.  World War I is going on and I just see the tragedy that's about to hit.  It's just too much.  Anyway.

I checked out a free form yoga DVD (yes, as weird as it sounds) and a bellydancing DVD.  It was very fun and a nice workout.

I have to brag--the first weekend of Dec came and went and I didn't nag my husband about decorating the house for Christmas.  We'll do it next weekend.  It will still be fantastic.  I took the twins to the town Christmas parade and it was great!  Very fun.  I've given up on expecting the whole family to share every moment.  Sometimes my husband doesn't want to do things that I do.  Instead of getting huffy about it, I just accept it.  He took #3 to breakfast, Lowe's and the feed store.  They both had a great time.