Pride in sushi

Yesterday I went to the swanky (I love that word.  If you're unfamiliar, it's my way to say something is super fancy) grocery store on the other side of town.  The whole place just exudes this cool vibe, like I've walked into a really neat music video or something.

I don't go there often, but it's fun to pop in from time to time.  They also have a great sushi bar.  I love sushi, so I happily got lunch there.  The sushi chef was an inspiration to me.  We'll call him Yuri.  Not sure that's his name, but I think I saw it on his name tag.  His English wasn't great which always frustrates me. 

Since I speak Spanish, when there's a language issue, I always think I can speak Spanish and fix the communication barrier.  Clearly, this is unwise.  I did this once with a neighbor who was deaf.  Not helpful.  I also did it once at the elementary school where I worked.  I was answering the phones one day for the secretary, thinking I was great at it until a got a phone call with communication trouble.  I immediately went into Spanish.  Didn't help.  I spoke louder and slower in Spanish.  Still didn't help.  I finally realized the man was speaking in English with an Indian accent.  I felt super foolish.  Oh well.

I'm proud to say I've learned from my mistake and didn't try to speak to Yuri in Spanish.  He asked if I wanted this roll or that roll but I never quite figured out what kind they were.  I caught that one was spicy and the other not.  When I asked about it, he automatically assumed I wanted it and with impressive flourish, he fancified it and made it was beautiful.

Instead of making a big deal about not wanting that roll, I chose to try it, whatever it was.  If he was that proud of it, it couldn't be bad.  I chose not to blow the situation out of proportion and admire the pride Yuri had in his craft.  Very cool.

It made me think of my own sons and how proud they are of the projects they work on.  Mine are fixers and they love nothing more than creating a way to repair a situation. 

It made me wonder what I do in my life that I'm proud of.  Am I like Yuri, that beams with pride in my creations?  I was convicted that more times than not, my attitude is rather negative and I drag my feet through my days.  Why?  With all that God has blessed me with, I should be a songbird chirping joyfully all day long.

In this moment, I choose to be thankful and I'll try to be thankful in the next moment, too.

Slowing down

Last week 3 of the 5 of our family was sick.  I got taken down the hardest and I'm about 90% back to my usual self.  The problem is I'm not good at slowing down and accepting that I'm still 10% on the mend.

Mondays are our home day.  We clean the house, do laundry and enjoy a slower pace.  Yesterday I spent some time outside helping Aaron plant in the garden.  He loves it when I do that.  I'm not sure if he loves it because he enjoys spending the time together or if I'm just a good field hand and way more helpful than our sons.  Regardless, I did it and it was nice but it didn't help me rest much.

So today I'm going to.  I'm allowing my boys to watch an extra dino documentary while I'm writing this, before making breakfast.  I'm allowing myself that luxury.

On Saturday morning we met up with my parents.  Meeting up with them is wonderful, but it always takes me for an emotional turn.  I want them to enjoy their grandchildren, but my boys are typical boys--they are loud, fast and full of energy.  They behave at church and MDO so I really do think they'll be fine for school, but somehow my parents see their misbehavior and my inadequacies as a parent.  Ouch.

I know I'm not a perfect mom.  I'm reminded very often.  #2 challenges my authority a lot in front of my parents.  I hold my ground and am consistent with what I believe is the way to handle him.  I stay calm, refuse to wager or argue and it's unpleasant, especially with an audience.  But I know my kid and I know I'm the one God chose to raise him (along with Aaron).  I do it differently than my parents did and that's OK.

Then why do I feel like I failed?

Crossing the river

This picture describes a bit of how I feel today.  I found this toy on the floor just like this and thought I would share it.

Now on to the title of today's post.  #1 was sick last week.  I got it (strep) Sunday morning.  #3 got it Monday.  It's been a fun few days.  I tried really hard to keep it together all day Monday and my boys were as good as can be expected.  When Aaron got home at 6, I was done.  I was laying on the couch, miserable.  He took one look at me and said, "Go.  Now.  I've got this.  Get yourself to the minor emergency clinic."  I did.  2 hours later I had meds for the horrible sore throat.  2 days later I feel fine again.  Such wisdom he has.

I told him last night that I wanted to give him a back-handed compliment.  There are days when I wish he was more romantic.  A bit smoother around the edges.  A tad bit more refined.  But then life hits and he's really, really wonderful.  He'll help with sick boys in the middle of the night.  He'll clean up throw up.  He'll do what needs to get done and not whine.  So very cool.  I'm really glad he's my partner on this road of life.  If I had to choose between a showy guy or him, I would choose him any day of the week.

After this, he told me that in "cowboy talk" I had just told him I would cross the river with him.  On cattle drives, you didn't cross rivers with just anyone.  You could lose cattle, supplies, horses or your life.  You only crossed rivers with someone you knew you could depend on.  He took the compliment to heart.

When God created Aaron, he knew I would be his perfect match.  He knew it would be bumpy and not smooth waters every day, but he created us to cross the rivers of this life together.  What a blessing to know that he's by my side.

Communication

This afternoon I did something very silly.  I wrote my husband a note pretending to be Jar Jar Binks.  He will laugh.  A few days ago I went to the Just Between Friends consignment sale and got the boys a tub of dinos (huge hit by the way--go me!) and amongst the differing dinos was Jar Jar.  Aaron was offended by his presence there.  I thought it was fine.  I'm not sci fci-ish enough to go into the reasons Aaron is so bothered by Jar Jar.  I thought he was a nice addition to the Star Wars movies, but what do I know?  Not much about that whole genre. 

As the boys were playing with the dinos today I told them about my idea for Jar Jar.  I didn't read them to the note I wrote to Aaron, but #3 helped me find a spot to put it so Aaron will see it tonight when he gets home.  #3 took this very seriously.  He said, "I will protect it."  Cute!

The boys and I are going to join my parents for a trip to the beach in about a month.  There are excellent vacationers out there.  I'm not one.  I'm one of those irritating people that has a hard time relaxing.

I found myself getting nervous yesterday as I started thinking through how this whole trip would go.  Worst case scenarios immediately flooded my mind.  Instead of living in worryville I decided to take some action.

I called my mom and just asked for more details.  I told her my concerns and we talked through them.  After the chat I felt much, much better.  There's still much to do to get ready but it's doable.  Worryville is an uncool place to stay.  Good thing I get to choose to leave it.

More to the chicken drama

I'm so happy to report that my Chicken and Noodles dish last night turned out very well.  Hooray!  Aaron was impressed with my cooking prowess, which is always so great.

The funny stinger to this story I just had to share is the conversation I had with my mom.  Understand that my mom was raised on a farm.  She's no stranger to having to work hard.  But she's chosen to be comfortable now and just assumes I'll do the same.

I told her about cutting up the chicken and this was her priceless comment:  "Didn't you see that you can buy the chicken already cut up?  I would just get boneless, skinless chicken breasts.  That would be the same thing with much less work."

Hmmm.  Way to deflate my balloon.  I'll defend her--she was proud of my new skill and she knew it was a challenge for me.  She just didn't really see the value of it.  And this is where I stand back and say, OK.  Mom's great.  I love her, but I don't have to be her. 

I want to be closer to nature than buying boneless, skinless chicken breast.  And that's OK.  Welcome to being a grown up where I can choose to take a different path than my mom and see that we're both right. 

Tougher than the chicken

I'm a city girl who is learning to be closer to nature.  I married a man who was an ag major and took entire classes about food science (think how bacteria makes you sick when food goes bad) and animal information.  He took a class called Meats in which they butchered all kinds of animals.

All this was before we met, but he brought to the marriage an impressive array of knives that can take apart any animal.  He also doesn't get grossed out by anything in this world which is really helpful when one of us is sick.  He may not be the most refined guy I've ever met but he sure is helpful when the grossness of life demands some attention.

I watch The Pioneer Woman with my boys and we love it.  They frequently ask me to cook whatever it is that Ree's making.  It's fun--I'm really learning to cook and cook well. 

Last show, she made chicken and noodles.  As a little girl, I loved making homemade noodles with my Grandma.  Wonderful memory.  Seeing Ree make that made me really want to do it.  So, it's on the menu tonight.

It's funny--she uses frozen noodles (I'm good with that) but she had me cut up a chicken.  Yuck.  I had never done that before.  Wasn't quite sure I could.  But there was the frier in the fridge, waiting for me to cut it up.

I gathered the boys into the kitchen and told them I was going to do something new that I was a little scared of.  It was their job to cheer for me.  Cheer they did.  I found a recipe book we got from when we married with pictures of how to do this.  And I did it!  I did have to call Aaron at work because the cleaver wasn't doing the job on the bones.  He told me which knife to get--good advice.

I did it!  The boys were so proud.  Not quite as proud as me.  It's a good day when I face down a fear and beat it.

Being a Glade's plug-in for Jesus

Yesterday at Community Bible Study we had a luncheon.  I love luncheon--we all bring something yummy to share and we chat.  We do it in a structured way (I really prefer that to just talking about whatever--everyone gets to share as well as listen).

The question was so rich--how did you find CBS and how has God blessed you through it?  I shared about my SIL telling me about CBS back when I was pregnant, lonely and looking to find connection with other Stay-at-home-moms.  Through it, the Lord has blessed me so richly. 

Friends, laughter, connection and fun.  But the biggest lesson I've learned through the mixed ages of ladies in my study group (which I love!) is that no one is perfect. 

At the beginning of motherhood I really did think that everyone else had it together and somehow I just couldn't quite measure up.  Through CBS (and a deeper study of the Bible) I've come to learn and fully accept that God doesn't expect perfection--just faithfulness. 

Life is messy and ugly.  I'm not a magic eraser that makes everything she touches sparkle.  Thank goodness for that because if that were the expectation I sure would fail.  I'm more like a Glade Plug-in.  The messiness will happen.  Daily.  Hourly.  Sometimes minute by minute.  It's my job to be plugged in to the source--the Holy Spirit--so that I can release God's sweet, neutralizing scent to those around me.  What a cool lesson.

Chores

As I write this, sausage is browning for the lasagne I had planned on making a double recipe of.  A MOPs friend had a baby and I'm giving her a pan of lasagne on Wednesday night.  Unfortunately, I had already started the sausage when I realized I had forgotten to buy lasagne noodles at the store.  Dad gum.  Good thing I can pick some up tomorrow and swap tonight's meal for tomorrow's.  Never fear--her meal will still be ready Wednesday.

My twins are at an age when a small disappointment like this one is a huge deal, oftentimes erupting into a huge emotional downpour.  Today I get to model that yes, I'm frustrated but I'm going to choose not to throw a toy across the room.

The picture above is my almost proud moment of the day.  This morning I had a MOPs meeting with a few of the other leaders.  3 of the moms were able to come, bringing an assortment of little people with them. 

It's funny--I always tell the leaders not to worry about cleaning up their home when other moms are coming over because no one notices.  But yet, here I was, stressing out about my house when I knew they were coming over today.  In my defense, Monday is cleaning day so it really needed to be done anyway.

My twins are at an age where they can actually help pretty well but they're starting to figure out that housework isn't all that fun.  #3 is not really able to be helpful yet.  Today I put their clothes pins with their names on them next to a chore.  They had to do the chore and then I moved them all down.  In theory, this was a wonderful plan.  It was OK.  The truth is that I haven't put in the time to really teach them what each of these tasks looks like and expected them to master them.  That takes lots of patience that I just didn't have today.

I need to do that so that the cleaning time will go more smoothly and I can hold them accountable for a job well done.  I'll do it soon.

The meeting went well, except for the fact that my boys were toots and wouldn't leave me alone.  Huge frustration for me.  It was a reminder that I can be a great mom or I can focus on leading a MOPs meeting.  Doing both at the same time is just really hard.