Relaxing my grip

In years past, I've made elaborate plans for Christmas and always felt disappointed that they fell short.

This year I feel much more relaxed and happier. I don't expect this magical Christmas spirit to overtake me and bring about some special glow.  Instead, I'm just living my life, doing what I need to do and am thankful that I get to anticipate Christmas.  

This morning I wrote a few Christmas cards and really enjoyed it.  I love that I get to sit back and write letters to dear friends when I send Christmas cards.

Today I may do a pinterest search for Christmas games for adults to play at our SS party or a fun activity to do with the kinder kids at the party at school.  Or I may not.  We'll just see.

Broadening my perspective

Last post, I wrote about directing the Christmas musical.  Suffice it to say that at the conclusion of the dress rehearsal, I was fighting tears.  Why?  I was embarrassed that it didn't go well enough and my pride stung. 

It's hard to make OK be acceptable.  I like for things to be perfect and when they're not, I don't handle it well.  Part of me feels like I have to achieve to gain approval. 

As an adult, at least I'm at a point where I can see that this is a silly way to live my life.  God loves me.  Period.  A musical can have some hiccups and it doesn't make me lose His love.  I learned some lessons for the next time I undertake a project like this one in the future to iron out some of the hiccups, but that's not the lesson to take away here.  My goal when I undertook this was that the kids got a chance to experience the Christmas story in a meaningful way.  At Wednesday night's rehearsal, about 35 kids got to share the message of Jesus' birth in a special way.  My own 3 kids loved the rehearsal and thought it was wonderful.   I can be thankful for that success.  The rest is just icing on the cake.

Musings on being a director

Tonight is the dress rehearsal for our children's Christmas musical that as my boys say I'm the "big boss" of.

It's funny--this project came up suddenly about 6 weeks ago and it's been surprisingly fun to put together.  I've read that the best way to truly relax is to do something that feels like play.  Back in high school, I was in the cast of musicals as well as in the competitive acting class (we prepared pieces to take to competitions) and really enjoyed it.  I'm a deeply emotional person and acting really resonates with that.  As an adult, the closest I get to acting is reading my boys stories in funny voices.  Sadly, I don't even do that very often because they really prefer non-fiction stories that just don't call for my crazy Speedy Gonzales voice. 

I found a script for this musical that I really liked and then I reworked it a bit to fit the number of kids for speaking parts, our time limitation  and our unique needs based on our kids.  It was a labor of love.  The words truly reflect the reason I chose to take on this task:  so that all who are a part of this musical or who are watching it can see what Christmas is all about--God sending His son as a baby to give us hope.

I've worked hard to keep this project simple, but coordinating 3 choirs and the logistics of the costumes, set, music, drama, etc is quite a task.  I'm very fortunate that I have a fantastic group of people to make all this come together.  It also helps that my own boys are very excited about being a part of it.

I'm learning lessons along the way, like when I start to feel overwhelmed, sit down and list all the worries I have.  Then, put dates beside them.  Right after Halloween I got worried that I was running out of time.  As is way too common for me, I wasted that energy worrying for nothing.

I've loved teaching the 5 traditional carols to the kids.  I taught the 1st-6th graders songs that they "know" but did they really?  I took the time to explain the songs and we even discussed the meaning behind them.  Very, very cool.  I like to think that when they sing those songs this Christmas they will have a deeper meaning.  I know they do for me now.

I have a to do list for tonight's rehearsal: 
*ask someone to snap some photos for with my camera
**put some on FB to invite people to come on Sunday for the performance
**for my own scrapbook
*have my guitar ready to go--I'm going to accompany "Silent Night"
*Be patient and pleasant

When I'm in "business mode" I can get very terse.  Aaron does this when he's working on a project.  Apparently in man world this terse tone is common practice and acceptable to all.  Not to me when I can't figure out what he's asking me to do or in many cases can't do what it is he's requesting.  A short, choppy tone of voice makes me even less motivated to be his happy helper.  I've learned to request a nicer tone.

Tonight I need to do the same.  I've spent lots of time onstage, memorized many, many lines and am one of those people who loves being onstage.  As a little girl I dreamed of being a famous actress.  Tonight I'm directing children who have never been in a production like this before.  One of my girls with lines told me she's very scared--she's never spoken in front of a group like this before.  My job is to encourage these kids and show them God's love.  The whole point of this production is to share the good news of Christmas with others.  If she forgets her lines, there will be a screen with them written on it.  The church will still love her.  These aren't professional actors and we're not on Broadway.

In a perfect world, I would have been able to work with the drama kids and really direct them as they deliver their lines.  However, I didn't.  Maybe I'll be a part of that next time around.  I had to delegate that task to another adult who was willing to lend a hand.  I'm thankful she did.

One of the trickiest parts of delegation is allowing OK to be good enough.  God is showing me that the whole is more important the individual parts.  I have to manage the whole and keep it on track instead of looking too closely at each individual piece.  Not easy.  But I've also lived long enough now to understand that what I think is the most important thing is not important at all to others.  I have such limited vision and as the director of the project, I'm having to step back and oversee all the parts.  It's stretching me and I'm thankful for the sage advice of some of the seasoned choir teachers to help me along.

There's a beauty to sitting back today, looking at the pieces that have come together to make this production happen.  I believe that when we work together for the glory of God, He smiles proudly at our effort.  When I was making the sheep costumes, He grinned and probably chuckled.  When I taught the meaning of Advent back in September, he beamed with pride.  When I took a moment to remind the scared little girl that her best effort was all I asked of her when she delivered her lines, He nodded His head in approval.  Heaven knows He doesn't demand perfection of me--just faithfulness.

I'm prepared that tonight's rehearsal may be a train wreck.  I can't control the choices the kids or other adults make.  The only thing I have control of is me and my attitude.  I don't want to flop publicly, especially not in front of my own kids.  But that's why I've been praying over this project since its inception.

I've sowed lots of hard work and invested many hours.  I'm excited to reap the harvest.  Here's hoping that it's a good one!

Gearing up for Christmas

Thanksgiving was good. 

In years past, I've been very bad about letting the expectation of what the day should feel like get in the way of actually enjoying time with my family.  I'm proud to say I didn't do that this year.  Both sets of grandparents came to join us as well as my brother.  It was nice.

Now it's time to start getting ready for Christmas.  In years past I've almost had a sense of dread about the Christmas season just because there are so many things I feel like I have to do.  This year I'm not going to let myself get sucked into that.

In November, I noticed that 2 TV shows that I record and watch while I fold laundry were bringing me down.  I enjoy Rachael Ray and have started watching The Chew.  I don't love either, but learn quite a bit about cooking from both.  But especially The Chew did nothing but make me feel like if my Thanksgiving table wasn't exactly like theirs I was failing.  What?  When I realized that, I watched much, much less.  Good move.

With Christmas, I'm going to be very watchful of what I read, listen to and watch.  I don't need to make our Christmas a certain way.  I like what our pastor said last year about Christmas:  it's a time of the year when we make a little extra room for Jesus.  Celebrating Him.  Pondering the gift that He is for each of us.

My brother gave the boys a Lego advent calendar.  A year ago I would have wigged out and been weird because it isn't about Jesus.  I'm very, very happy to know that in the past couple of years I've made a real effort to teach my boys that Christ is the reason for Christmas and they get it.  Yes, we have to keep our focus on it, but I feel like we can just enjoy the season now and I don't have to hit that point quite so hard.

Fun is easy for Aaron.  For me, it's a challenge.  I have to brag--on Thursday morning, I knew both sets of grandparents were on the way to our house as well as my brother.  I was cooking a big breakfast for the boys because I knew we would be eating later than they're used to and I didn't want to be bothered with them being hungry if lunch was late.  Boy #1 asked if he could help make the pancakes.  The task master in me that wanted to have a clean kitchen when her mom and in-laws showed up wanted to say, "Shoo, messy child."  But I didn't.  I let the messy little guy help.  He loved it.  Through my actions I told him he was important to me.  I even took a deep breath and enjoyed his company.  Very, very big step for me on that one.  And no one made a comment on the cleanliness of my kitchen.

I'm weird about dishes.  I want them done NOW.  However, I knew my parents and brother weren't staying very long at our house and I chose to spend time talking to my mom instead of washing dishes.  My brother even joined us for a really nice chat.  That was a cool moment that I'm really glad I chose to join in.

I want Christmas to be that way.  Keep my focus on these precious moments with my kids and my Savior.  Today I am planning to make an Advent calendar for us in which we have 24 strips of construction paper linked together, each counting down to 1.  I want to write our church's Advent theme for each week on them so that each day when we tear one off, we're all reminded of what it is we're waiting for.  I was going to do an elaborate 12 days of giving in which we came up with ways to give to those around us, but I've decided to just relax the structured feel of that and let giving as it happens.  Last night #1 went to the store with me.  We bought some groceries for needy families (the store makes it very easy to do so--hooray Brookshire's!) and #1 got to physically put the bag of goodies in the big bin.  Later he told me doing so made him for special because he got to do it and thoughtful because he was giving to others.  Cool, cool moment that I hadn't scripted. 

I'll wrap up here so I can order my address labels for my Christmas cards which are already done!  As you can see, this post is all lofty about the true meaning of Christmas but what really makes me happy?  Knowing it's Nov 30 and I have my Christmas cards in hand.  Oh well.  Some are happy with watching sunsets.  Some with listening to the waves on the shore.  I am happy when my Christmas cards get to people before the 24th of December.  Wow, I am shallow!

Closets bring happiness

This morning I chose to tackle the linen closet.  It's been mildly bugging me for a few months.  I'm hosting Thanksgiving and even though no one is spending the night at my house, somehow cleaning out a closet that no one will look in gave me a great sense of accomplishment.

It took less than 30 minutes from opening the door to completion.  The cool thing is that the lowest shelf is now my boys'--it's puzzles that they are welcome to do by themselves.  Score!

#3 loves that the closet is now his "puzzle closet" and I love that it's tidy.  Tidy is just so pleasant.

Awesomeness

I haven't posted in a while.  My routine from last year has shifted.  I teach the 1st-3rd choir at church now and I have to take my twins to kinder as well as pick them up each day.  Somehow the 2 of those things have made me out of the routine of blogging as often.

I read the book Start--Punch Fear in the Face the other day.  My husband and I are big Dave Ramsey fans and the author, Jon Acuff, is a speaker at Dave events so I guess Aaron heard of him that way.  Anyway, he read the book and encouraged me to read it.  I'm glad I did.  It's a motivational book basically about the road to awesomeness.   

It's funny--I think of awesome as this wow kind of thing that people who are CEOs get to do in ivory towers somewhere.  This book helped me see that every day, just being who God made me to be, I can be awesome. 

I can be an awesome wife.  Just yesterday at the grocery store I did a very rare impulse buy of hot sauce for Aaron because I knew he didn't care much for the previous one I got for him.  That was awesomeness. 

I can be an awesome mom.  The past weekend Aaron hung his banjo (he's teaching himself to play) and my guitar up on the wall, well within the boys' reach.  The boys love strumming both instruments while they sing.  Precious!  The musician and adult in me who is averse to non-musical instrumentation cringes that they play, but the awesome mom in me applauds that they love music and worships as they sing "Jesus Loves Me' with such gusto. 

I got to practice awesomeness in friendship the other day when I took a mom who's new to the area to MOPs.  I even got to figure out how to attach her 2 car seats in my car--not my skill set.

But here's the thing--these awesome things come rather easily to me.

What's harder is what I did this morning--I said no.  Let me preface to say that no is just not a word I say easily.  I want the whole world to love me and I figured out at an early age that "yes" wins many friends.  "No" can be lonely.

As the choir teacher, I took on a huge project:  I'm directing a children's musical at our church combining 3 choirs (ages 4-6th grade), drama, etc to do basically a living nativity program.  Should be very, very sweet.  There are just lots of moving parts I have to coordinate.  I've delegated well and now I get to work on managing the parts to be sure everything comes out as it should.

Tonight is choir night and I have to be at my best to teach the kids what we need to learn for the very quickly approaching program.  This morning was Community Bible Study.  I play the piano for the worship section and it is not a snap for me to play.  I have to practice the song and be prayerful that the Lord will bless my effort for his glory.  If I'm not in the right mindset, I get nervous, flustered and I miss God's blessing.  Today was good.  However, after I played the children's director gently reminded me I had signed up for being a Love Lady today.  (Extra helper for the children's program). 

I know my face fell.  She knows that 3 years ago I loved helping out.  Now, not so much.  She graciously asked if she should ask someone else to do it today and I said with my hesitation..."yes."  I couldn't believe I actually said that!  I apologized but she was very quick to say that there are ladies who love doing it and she would much prefer honesty to me doing it with a reluctant heart.  What a blessing!

Yesterday I got an email that pertained to the kids' musical.  I won't go into it, but suffice it to say it was a request for me to do even more than what I committed to with this project.  I'm the world's worst at a knee-jerk "yes" and then I feel bad about it later.  This time, I knew no was best, but I talked it over with Aaron and had his full support of the no.  Saying no still wasn't easy, but doing so is the road to awesomeness.

We all have moments of awesomeness.  I'm just glad that I'm finally learning that being awesome isn't making everyone else happy.  It's being true to who God made me to be and being my very best version of that every day.

Differences

This last weekend, my husband taught me to shoot a bow and arrow.  My boys were tickled that I used their little boy bow set and that child #1 was better at it than I was.

I didn't really want to do it, but I'm realizing that the more new things I try, the richer life is.  I also read the other day that learning new things as an adult could keep Alzheimer's at bay. 

Child #1 is such a mini-me.  He has taken to kinder like a duck to water.  He loves the order, the structure and he especially loves that he is doing well.  While I'm happy he's happy, I'm seeing an ugly side come out of him.  He doesn't like the kids that aren't like him and mess up the order of the system.

Child #2 has a soft heart and a natural kindness for others.  Child #1 on the other hand, seems to have more of a hardness to him.  It makes me sad.  I'm someone who feels deep empathy for others and will defend the underdog like a mother lion when necessary. 

Child #1 will complain about the other kids in his class and say he doesn't like them.  He says it in strong ways that really bug me.  I called someone the other day who is an expert on kids this age just to figure out what is developmentally appropriate for kids his age.  She was reassuring that this is normal and a part of kinder.  She encouraged me to tell him to find one thing he likes about these kids he doesn't like.  I did so and he adamantly told me there was nothing to like about them.  Yikes.

Here's the "aha" mom moment to share.  During the chat about development, I realized that it's not my job to my child #1 into me.  God gifted me with a very soft heart for others.  It still confuses me at 35 that not everyone feels as deeply as I do about things, but they don't.  It was a realization moment that child #1 wasn't created just like me.  And that it's OK. 

And now for the happy ending.  Child #3 likes Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, an updated version of Mr Roger's Neighborhood so we record it.  The other day the episode was all about being kind to others that are different than you.  The phrase they repeated over and over was "In some ways we are different but in other ways, we are the same."

I made all 3 watch the show as I cooked supper last night.  After it was over, I asked #1 about ways one of the little guys in his class that we've discussed is like him.  He thought for a minute and then said, "On the inside we're the same.  He has bones and blood."  I chimed in with this, asking "Does he have a heart?" "Yes."  "Hands?"  "Yes" We continued this way a while. 

#1 still has a ways to go to showing kindness to all, but this is a small start.  In motherhood, it's good to celebrate the small victories.

Self-discipline

For any of you who are familiar with Dave Ramsey and his teachings about how to handle money, you know about the envelope system.  The concept is very basic:  agree with your spouse about how much you'll spend for different things, put that amount of cash into specified envelopes, and only spend the cash.

This is one of those things that sounds so easy but when it's you in Mardel, looking at very lovely things that would make your home look oh-so-lovely, it's tricky to remember that the debit card isn't in your wallet when you know you don't have a "home decorations" envelope.  And the Target envelope just can't cover these lovelies and toilet paper as well.

My boys, particularly the older 2, have a bad case of what I call "want-i-tis."  They want, want, want.  Drives me crazy.  This morning with #3 I got to model what it looks like to appreciate something, file it away for another day like Christmas or when you have cash in the envelope and be at peace without getting it today.

The irony is that I have a daily calendar that tells me what character trait to pray for for my kids.  Today's?  Self-displine.  It made me smile that I had prayed for this and I had such an opportunity to practice it today myself.

Batman on the organ

This year I've become a part of the music team at my bible study.  I love music, sing in our church choir and even teach the kids' choir as well.  I play the piano, love singing and also play guitar.  One would think that playing the piano for our study would be right down my alley.

It would be, but somehow when I play the piano I get nervous and make these weird mistakes.  Last Wednesday I felt so embarrassed that I was bothered by it the rest of the week.

So, for this week, I practiced more and felt prepared.  I also prayed that the music would be about worship and not about me.  He answered in such a neat way!  He brought an organist!  She has lots of experience.  Today as she played, I played along and felt so much more comfortable.  No nerves=no mistakes! 

I just needed a Batman on organ for my Robin on piano.  And God provided.

Granted, in the grand scheme of life I know my comfort level as I play piano isn't that important, but it sure is nice.

Book organizing

Pre-books

many books

Happy organization

I haven't posted for a while.  The summer pretty much ate my lunch.  Don't get me wrong--we had a great summer filled with fun and great memories.  But I had precious few moments to myself which is when I like to blog.

At this moment the Aggies are playing on TV, engaging all the males in my home.  I'm sitting here in the room with them but I can focus my attention on this.  How's that for mult-tasking?

This summer we were given some new furniture for the boys' rooms so we've been able to upcycle other pieces.  This dresser was actually in my little girl room and I'm so happy it's now in the play room, holding books to read to my boys.  Really, really nice.

There's nothing like the feeling of completion that a short, sweet organization project brings.

Wisdom for endurance

This is our new token system.  I copied this idea from a friend of mine as a way to help guide good habits in my boys.  Kindergarten is creeping closer every day and I want to get the boys ready so the transition will be as smooth as possible.

The token system is in place so they can see very easily when they do good and when they do bad, with the hopes that they'll choose to do good more and more.

When I taught school, I used a marble jar to teach classroom procedures.  I would drop in a marble when they did good things.  It was a beautiful way for them to know immediately when as a class they were following our classroom rules.  The magical little clink of the marbles were so powerful in shaping our classroom rules.

So, as a mom, I'm trying to do the same.  It's way harder.  In class, I never took out marbles.  With my own kids, I do.  My students didn't kick each other, weren't mean to the dog, didn't talk back, throw things at me when they got mad, disobey what I said or make a mess of wherever they were.  I'm sure my students did all of those things when they were 3 or 5 and probably at 7 or 8 at home, but I was their teacher--not their mom.

Yesterday I hit a brick wall when I realized I focus so much on the things they do wrong I rarely notice what all they do right.  That was a yuck moment.  It was Monday--cleaning day--and they weren't doing their tasks well.  I felt myself morphing into this nag woman, demanding that they work harder, etc.  I realized if they didn't become cleaning wizards immediately the whole token system would go bust because the whole point is to gain tokens.  They were just losing them.  Uncool.

So, I chose to postpone cleaning day.  We didn't have to clean yesterday;  it would easily wait.  Instead, I took a deep breath and decided to focus the day on rewarding my boys for all the stuff they did well.  Not easy for me, but a good choice.

Today we had to take Sardina, our second dog that will get her own post another day when child #3 isn't waiting on me to do a Lego project, to the vet.  On our way back, we had an adventure.  We went to a new park that was fantastic.  We also did Target which can be a beating with all 3 boys, but today it wasn't.  I used the token system to reward them for following directions and it was great!  Not quite as magical as my marbles once upon a time, but better than it could have been.

Motherhood is an endurance race.  Some days I have to decide having the cleanest house on the block just isn't worth the fight.

Letting them loose

I realized the other day the reason I enjoyed teaching 2nd grade so much was because I had control.  Yes, I had to teach lots of procedures and develop a sense of family in the classroom for all to go smoothly, but by george, I did it.  And I loved it. 

Looking back, I had every moment of the day scheduled for my students and I liked it that way.  I didn't give much chance for misbehavior because I was expecting them to act like little robots in my care.

My own kids don't work that way.  As I write this, I'm letting them just be and well, they're being.  They've moved #3's bed to the door of his closet and who even knows what mischief they've gotten into.  No one is crying, yelling or hurting anyone else.  There will be a mess to clean up, but there was a mess before they began.

I'm learning as a mom that I want my own kids to be able to fill free time without my constant guidance.  I'm also learning that for me to recharge my own batteries, I have to disengage from them sometimes and do something completely for me. 

This morning #1 discovered the joy of making mud pies.  That's one of those things you read on someone else's blog and you think of how delightful that is.  When it's on your blog, you have to be the one to hose the kid off (while he yells and runs from you) and do the lovely laundry that's associated with such fun.

I needed to recharge, so I set the timer for 15 minutes and told the boys I was going to play the piano and sing and no, they couldn't get out the instruments.  They also had to leave me completely alone.  They did.  I played my heart out I'm glad I did. 

This afternoon we're planning to go to the pool.  3 non-swimmers and me.  Promises to be a whipping on my part, but such is the joy of motherhood.

Shamefully prissy noises

I'm many things.  Talkative, optimistic, boisterous, inquisitive are a few that come to mind.  Tough?  Not really.  I was raised to be more of a princess than a field hand.  Unfortunately, I married a man who despite wooing a princess, he really wanted to marry a field hand.  So, in marriage I'm learning how to do such glamorous things, like fix fences, herd cattle and wrestle fish.

We were fishing the other day at our pond when a neighbor came out and needed to talk to Aaron.  Before I realized what was happening, Aaron had disappeared across the fence with the neighbor and I was left alone with the 3 boys on a small dock.  I had a fleeting moment of what I would do if:  one fell in, they all fell in or heaven forbid, one caught a fish.  I know how to swim, but dealing with fish is a new kind of adventure.

I have to brag on myself--I took a deep breath and enjoyed the time fishing with the boys.  They didn't catch anything in Aaron's absence except the dock a few times and unfortunately me once.  Luckily, no blood was drawn.  We had fun.

When Aaron came back he cast lines for the boys and all of a sudden, they all caught fish.  I dutifully went about taking hooks out of fish mouths which I'm still very new at.  I make this ridiculous prissy noise when I touch fish.  I'm not proud of the sound, but ick.  They're slippery and slimy.  #1 was helping me with my task.  When I made that silly sound, he asked, "Mommy, is that noise Spanish for Daddy, please help?"

If you would have told me 10 years ago that this moment would be on my short list of favorite parenting moments I would have laughed at you, but so it is.

Maybe one day "tough" will be in the list of adjectives I use to describe myself.  

I love VBS!

There are many things in this world that I love:  the smell of coffee, crunchy apples, freshly baked bread, the sound of voices blending in harmony while singing praise to Jesus and connecting with others. 

VBS is also on my short list of things I love.  Always have.  It's a time we open the doors to the church and welcome everyone in.  It's a week-long party, Baptist style.

My boys love it.  They love the music, the games, the crafts, the bible stories and fun with their friends.  They love the teenagers that are silly and fun.  They love the decorations all around the church.  It's so neat to watch them so fully enjoy church.

As a grown-up, I'm also really enjoying VBS.  Above is a picture of me and my friend, Chris, on crazy hair night.  Her wig was fantastic!  At the party store I opted for a more subdued option of a headband with crazy blue hair springing up.  My third son was very impressed with my crazy hair as were the kids I taught Missions to.

I love teaching.  Even more than that, I love sharing my passions in the hope of igniting the passions of others.  I have always had a heart for missions.  This world is full of such hurt, pain and disappointment.  The hope is Jesus Christ.  I remember back when I was a youth my youth minister nicknamed me Paul because I felt such a burden to share God's love with others.

This week, I get to share my passion with these kids.  I love it.  The lesson I put together is about 2 missionary families and how they boldly share God's love with those around them.  It's tricky sharing this because I know most of the kids at VBS have heard about Jesus' love, but many haven't.  The message to teach is that they are called to share God's love and the hope of Jesus, too.  I'm depending on the Holy Spirit to guide me as I teach each of these groups.

Last night with one group, I felt the nudging of the Holy Spirit to spend more time on what it means to be like Paul--change from being someone who doesn't know the love of Christ to someone who confesses his sin and accepts God's love in his life.  I had that beautiful moment as a teacher when I saw light bulbs come on in their eyes when they understood what I was talking about.  Very, very cool.

VBS is lots of work.  My boys are worn out from so many nights in a row out past their bedtime.  I'm tired, too.  But as a church, we are joining together to make something really fantastic:  an opportunity for kids to have a great experience in church.  A time of fun, laughter and excitement while they learn about Jesus' love for them.

Lots of fish and legos

J,D,Aaron & Walt fishing

Lego Camp--Michelle, Ms Linn, Walt & John

Last Sunday, our family went fishing at our pond on the farm.  John really got casting down and loved doing it.  Aaron and I took turns casting for David and Walt.  Aaron found a new kind of lure that the fish were crazy about.  As soon as we would cast, they would bite.  We caught 19 in all.  We even through a few back.  The boys loved the thrill of catching the fish, but their size was nothing to sing about.  When Aaron fileted them, all 19 produced all of 14 oz of meat. 

It was a great way to spend Father's Day.  We had such a great time we decided to make it a family tradition.

Lego Camp has gone on this week.  Walt and John have liked it, but they're not crazy about it.  There are 12 kids in the class, ages 4-7.  One girl.  Each day they're given a kit that makes an object.  The first kit made a carousel and somehow my boys made it into a windmill. 

Ms Linn, the teacher, is wonderful.  She's sweet, caring and very patient with the kids.  I think Walt is in love with her.  She commented that my boys are very polite and caring of each other.  No comment about their skill with the actual task at hand.

The beauty of the frame

For the past few days, I've been kid-free.  I called my fabulous mother-in-law on Sunday, hoping that her schedule would allow for her to have some time with my boys so I could have a break.  Our trip to the beach was great, but it left me worn out.  The boys needed a break from me, too.  Happily, she was available and they've had a great time at Camp Nana.  It's been wonderful for me.

I've been able to take a slower pace than normal and just be.  Being is not something I'm good at, but I'm proud to say I'm getting better.  I've played the piano and sung favorite songs--loudly.  I play the piano sometimes with my boys, but I allow them to play also which I think is neat, except that what they create is a far cry from music that soothes my soul.  I've read books and magazine articles, I've shopped, I got a hair cut, I renewed my driver's license, I did an errand that has literally been on my to do list since June 2012, I got a great new pear of jeans, had my oil changed, enjoyed cooking an omelete and I've watched plenty of my favorite shows.

It's been good.  No, great.  I've also had amazing quiet times.  I want to share a lovely illustration I read in my book I'm currently studying:  Calm My Anxious Heart by Linda Dillow.  The book is one I've been meaning to read for a few years and I'm so glad I decided to do it now.

The chapter has to do with being content with the way God made you.  She uses Psalm 139 as her basis.  I love that chapter.  She encourages us to think of ourselves as a painting, hanging on the wall for the world to see.  The frame is what we start with--our physical characteristics, our personality, gifts and abilities.  What's inside the frame is who we are today.  God created the background and the brushstrokes show how God is working in you.  If you yield to his artistry, Christ's character will be reflected.

The question that arises from this beautiful illustration is this:  when someone sees the masterpiece that God made in me, what do they see?  Christ's character or frantic activity?  Do I paint with the color of character or accomplishment?  Do I focus so much on the frame (wanting to change myself) that I miss out on what's in the portrait?

Army Wives is a show I watched for one season.  It was interesting, but I quickly figured out that it was going deep into waters I choose to not let my thought life swim in--adultry, namely.  But I do remember one of the characters also making reference to a portrait.  She said her husband was the frame that supported her while she was free to show her best self in the portrait.  At the time, I was newly married and thought that mental image was great.  As an illustration of marriage, I still think it has validity.

However, Dillow's illustration is biblical and liberating.  I've already arrived.  I don't have to be a better mom with perfectly behaved kids, every meal nutritional, have a sparkling home and always something witty and charming to say.  I can just be me.  Quirky, deep thinking, softed-hearted me.  God created my frame that way.  He bedazzles some, others are rustic and made of rought iron while still others are not ones you see on the shelves at Michael's.  But He made them all.  The key to finding contment is accepting the frame God chose when He created me, celebrating it and using it for His glory.  My frame is very different than my boys' and my husband's.  Very different than my family.  Similar to my sister-in-law, but still unique.  Unique is good.

Today I go for my boys.  I'm ready to see their sweet faces again.  I'm recharged, ready to start swim lessons with them next week.  It was really good to take a deep breath and have some down time.  God used this time to pat me on the back and remind me that regardless of the season I'm in, He created me just the way He wanted and He thinks I'm wonderful.

Adoption

As a baby, I was adopted.  I remember when my mom told me--I was 5, we were driving down the road in the family pick-up.  Dad was driving, my brother, Mom and I were all riding along.  I had seen something on the news that said children who are breastfed were healthier. 

Being not athletically gifted, I was one of the slowest runners in PE.  I was also one of the youngest in my class--an August birthday--so that probably had something to do with it as well.  Anyway, I made the connection that perhaps I ran slowly because I hadn't been breastfed.  I doubt I even knew what that meant. 

I asked Mom and she told me I had been adopted as a baby so no, she hadn't breastfed me.

I've always known I was adopted.  I've always understood that my birth mother did it because she loved me and knew she couldn't provide the best life for me.  She did it as a gift of love.

There came a time when I was about 14 that I realized that I felt like I had been rejected by her and because of it, I was unworthy of love.  When I realized that, I made the choice to give that insecurity to God and let Him fill that hole in my heart.  I forgave my birth mother (in my heart) and chose to accept God's full, complete love for me.

Wow.  That was 20 years ago now.  I had been warned that when I had children I could possibly have to deal with "adoption stuff" again.  I think if I would have had girls it may have been more of an issue.  But I still struggle from time to time.

I read a book last summer that says many Christians are like the older brother in the parable of the prodigal son.  We look down our noses on others who don't follow the rules or measure up to our standard.  We work to achieve salvation.  By doing so, we miss the whole point of Jesus:  he came to earth to save us.  Instead of accepting his free gift, we choose legalism.

I grew up trying to prove I was good enough.  As an adult, I accept that I'll never be good enough.  I can only give my best daily to follow Jesus so that His light can shine through me for others to see.

All this was stirred up by my silly Australian soap opera I watch.  The current storyline is that the heroine had a baby at 15.  (Ironically, about the age of my birth mother) and her dad forced her to give the baby to her sister to raise as her own.

Now, the girl is 14 and ticked that this secret was kept from her.  The thing that jarred me was the even as a child, I understood that my birth mother loved me more than herself by giving me away.  She made a very hard choice, and did it as a gift of love to me.  The teen on the show was just very mad that her aunt hadn't kept her. 

I realize that drama has to happen for good TV, but it made me wonder why it's so deep inside me that adoption was the best choice for me.  I think it had a lot to do with the fact that I was raised that way.  In my parents' eyes, financial security and godly values = a good home.  My birth mother, for whatever reason, chose to provide those things for me by choosing another family for me.

Mine was a closed adoption.  I know very little and what I do know was told to my parents by someone at the adoption agency.  As far as I know they never met her.  I know she is red headed, had a Czech descent and was "curvy."   She was short.  My birth father signed the paperwork, so we know he was in the picture.  I have the impression they were still in high school.  And she chose my parents for me.

I promised my Mom back in high school I wouldn't go about finding my birth mother.  For us to meet up, I would have to pursue her and she would also have to pursue me.  In many ways, it's easier not knowing.  I have a full life, filled with a family who loves me.  By marrying into Aaron's family, I have found such joy.  His family is wonderful and they accept me just as I am.  I always wanted a sister and in my sister-in-law, my wish came true.  Also, my church family is an amazing extended family to me that provides many fulfilling female relationships.

But sometimes I wonder.  I grew up fantasizing that Reba was my mom.  I later found out she's way too tall and not the right age.  I've heard this "Cinderella complex" is common for adopted kids.  Now I wonder if she's like me.  That would be nice.

More than anything else, I wish I could say thanks.  Almost 35 years ago she chose to provide for me in the best way she could.  That's an amazing thing.  May the Lord bless her richly for her decision and may He grant her His peace that I turned out just fine.

Meerkat peer pressure

I haven't posted for a while.  The main reason is that I was out of town for 10 days with my parents and kids.  While on vacation, I unplugged except for a few texts to friends and my husband who didn't go on the vacation.

We've been home for 6 days now and I think I'm going through emotional post-traumatic stress disorder.  I mean no insult to soldiers or first responders who actual deal with this, but dude, being in a fish bowl with my very active little boys while my parents are watching just wears me out.

I have tons of fantastic memories of the trip.  We went to the beach and I got to see the wonder in my boys' eyes as they took in the vastness of God's amazing creation:  the ocean.  Wow.  I thought that moment would be neat, but it stands as one of my very favorite mom moments.

A quick side note--yesterday boy #2 asked what threatened means.  I explained briefly.  I asked "What do we do when we feel threatened?"  #2:  "Get out your gun and shoot."  I'm sure the NRA would be proud that Aaron has taught them so well.  I told him that's an option at certain times but not appropriate at others.  I asked specifically what I do when I'm threatened.  #1 melted my heart with "Mommy, you pray."  Wow.  That was one of those moments in time when I can see that the investment of my time and energy shaping my boys. 

Back to emotional coming-down.  On the trip, I felt this pressure to be "on" all the time, even sleeping in the same room as my boys, which I've never done before.  They still got up every morning at 5:30.  Yuck.  At home, I'm at peace with them getting up because they've figured out to play with each other and I've learned to do my quiet time and tune them out.  Not ideal, but it works relatively well. 

Not so in a hotel.  Suffice it to say I felt like I was keeping a lid on a tornado for much of the time of the trip.  My sweet parents did all they could to help out, but #2 became very clingy to me on the way back home which drove me crazy.

Now we're back home and I just want to draw a line around myself and not let anyone in.  I crave time alone.  I also would really like to spend time with friends but I just don't have the extra energy for their kids.  I'm just worn out of little people right now.

I've learned through the years that if I don't have the boys on a schedule I go crazy.  Left to their own devices too long they got really rough, loud and annoy me terribly.  Last week I tried to be all cool and relaxed, "enjoying summer."  What a joke!  I was not a happy woman.

By Thursday afternoon I knew something had to give.  A trip to the zoo seemed to be a perfect solution.  We met up with a friend there and had a nice time, except the boys kept getting upset we couldn't do everything we saw, like ride the carosel, the train, climb the climbing wall, etc.  They were way more enthusiastic about all of those things than the amazing animals. Their emotional outbursts wore me out as did the walking carrying a heavy bag.

I was really considering getting a season pass to the zoo.  However, after we got home, I thought through why I wanted to spend this very large quantity of money which we hadn't even budgeted.  Many of my friends have done it.  On Mondays in June, season pass holders can get in at 9 instead of 10 and do a special meerkat something.  I thought through this for a moment.  My boys don't care about meerkats and I don't really care to stoke that particular fire in them.  For it to be a savings, I have to take the boys 3 times in the next year.  It's been over a year since the last time I took them and we've lived happily.

So, here's the golden nugget:  instead of giving the zoo lots of money and feeling obligated to go numerous times this summer, I'm going to make a "home day" schedule for us.  The schedule will be loose, but it will include structured time, free time and I'll intentionally schedule things that I really enjoy, like reading Hank the Cowdog chapters and playing the piano.

When I'm not intentional, I find that I don't enjoy my days because my boys enjoy things that I really don't care for.  I get drained quickly and become really grouchy.  Yuck.  But this week I started working through Calm My Anxious Heart and it focused a lot on contentment.  The Lord promises that He gave me the cup big enough for the portion that comes my way.  Then why is it so hard to feel content?

I get that in a global sense my life is a peace of cake.  I have strong, smart, healthy boys.  We have plenty to eat, a lovely home and a comfortable lifestyle.  And yet I want to tear my hair out regularly.  How can that be?  This is just my thinking, but I think that by being so "comfortable" instead of concentrating on actual problems, like having enough food to feed our families, keeping clothes clean by exerting lots of manual labor, being concerned for the safety of our families, we fill that vacuum by being discontent.

It's time to fill the vacuum with good things.  Today I'm climbing out of my grumpy pit and prayerfully making a plan for the upcoming week that will include things that will honor God and be positive.

Losing my head

Our lovely dog made the above picture happen this morning.  A free haircut for Blondie.  Glad my boys don't care much for her--they pretty much just use her as a launching tool.

My parents are coming in this afternoon so we can pack up their car.  We head out to the beach tomorrow.  Husband is staying home so it's me, my parents and my 3 very lively boys for 2.5 days in the car both ways.  Yikes.  I wish I could be strapped to the top of the car, but that would be the easy way out.

Today I pack.  I packed all the clothes on Monday--laundry day--so today I just need to gather toys, life jackets, tooth brushes, etc.  I will make a very wonderful list in a bit.

I had a wonderful quiet time this morning.  The Lord reminded me that in this day, my job is to be pleasant, loving and kind to my kids.  My house can be a bit dirty when my parents get here.  The boys can watch more TV than normal.  My attitude is more important than the rules I try so hard to follow.  Who made those rules anyway?

This trip isn't a vacation for me.  It's a chance to explore a really beautiful part of God's creation with my boys. It's time for them to share experiences with my parents.  That's a blessing.  Will it be easy on me?  No but I can decide to not expect perfection.  I can choose to smile and roll with the punches.

I look back at hairless generic Barbie and imagine maybe she wanted a haircut.  Perhaps she was tired of her glorious locks.  Today I am going to work at letting go of control of every detail of my day and look for moments to laugh, love and enjoy my family.

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.

Organized happiness

Welcome to our toy closet.  I took all of about 20 minutes this morning and got control of this chaos.  I culled a few things--good-bye Mr Potato Head!--and put remaining toys into plastic shoe boxes that stack.  It's amazing how wonderful the finished product made me feel.  An added bonus is that a friend who has younger kids than mine is going to take most of the things we don't use any more.  Hooray!

Another happy thing to share...I made crepes for the first time this morning and they were wonderful!  I fell in love with crepes when I studied in Europe back before I got married.  Ironically, Aaron makes them very well but getting him to do it is like pulling hen's teeth.  I finally decided to learn to make them.  So glad I did.  They really weren't that tricky and now I feel like a Rock Star! 

I haven't updated in a while...the getaway with the hubs was fantastic.  We had a wonderful time.  We hiked, shopped (my husband enjoyed that way more than I did), tasted wine, ate German food (I wasn't impressed) and my favorite--we went to Luckenbach. 

This is Aaron and me, ready to dance.  Luckenbach was made famous through a Willie Nelson song and in it he says let's get away from the rat race and get back to the basics of life.  That song became our theme song for our getaway.  Aaron was sweet--he made a play list of Texas songs to listen to as we drove.  I don't love Robert Earl Keane and had to keep listening to him, but it was still fun.  Luckenback is a very, very small town that consists of a post office (now a store), a bar and a dance hall.  Really.  That's it.  There's also a concession stand.  We were there for the dancing and weren't disappointed. 

The band was great.  They did lots of covers of the good country swing that is super fun to dance to.  Aaron kept me on my toes--lots of spins and fancy stuff that I had forgotten.  It's been years since we've danced.  It was really great to be reminded that we still can.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...my fear about the dog misbehaving and upsetting Grandpa happened.  Life went on. 

In His hand

Last week I was a mess.  The getaway with the hubs was fantastic, but it threw me off my normal routine of how I do things.  That always throws me for a loop.  Added to it that my household was mildly changed by the grandparents watching the kids and the fridge just deciding to go out, a lot of change was thrown my way.

Change and I aren't friends, but this morning my quiet time served as an excellent reminder that the Bible promises in Hebrews that God never changes.  In Isaiah I was reminded that God holds my right hand. 

With that, I wrote out the "stuff" weighing me down.  I just let the ideas flow.  Afterwards, I highlighted the things I can do to bring about resolution for the stuff. 

Today I have an action plan.  I'll follow it.  And I'm going to choose to rest in the thought that God is holding my right hand, just as He did when I was a child, a teen, a single girl, a teacher, a woman wanting to be a mom, a mom of preschoolers and now a mom on the cusp of letting her babies start kinder.  He'll be there when I drop them off the first day.  He'll also be there with them.

And He's here today.  As I do laundry, make phone calls, start plans for next fall that I don't feel all that comfortable with and as I love my boys.

It's easy to feel out of control because I'm entering uncharted waters for me.  But that's not of God.  God is here, I just need to look to Him for comfort, wisdom, guidance and strength.

Holy housecleaning

My title today sounds like something Robin would say to Batman.  But, it's actually from a sermon the other day about Jesus cleaning out the temple. 

The pastor went on to challenge us that "Holy housecleaning" means that we clean out of our lives what shouldn't be in them.  The irony is that just that morning, Aaron and I had one of "those talks" in marriage in which things that aren't working are addressed.  With emotion.  Out of respect for Aaron, I'm not going to rehash that conversation here but suffice it to say I was humbled that I'm not being the wife that I need to be and change needs to happen.

Holy housecleaning isn't fun.  It's necessary so that we can better be who God created us to be, but the humbling hurts.  My pride is stung.

This afternoon my parents arrive to get ready to watch our boys so that Aaron and I can go on our 10 year anniversary trip.  And I'm nervous as a cat.  I'll do a "heart sneeze" to list the worries I have.  That my boys will be horribly behaved for my parents, that there won't be enough food, that our stupid new dog will do something really dumb like excitedly nip (known by everyone in the world as bite except my husband who thinks this stupid animal is fantastic) one of my boys and my parents will be insistent that he gets put down, something minor could happen to a farm animal and my dad (not farm-savvy) would call a vet and we would be out a big fee and I would have to run interference between my dad and my husband, my mom be appalled at the not clean state of my home and the biggie:  I not feel very "wifey" on the vacation but have to figure out how to be that way anyway because that's what you do to celebrate your anniversary.

I spent the last 30 minutes writing up a medical authorization for so that if my kids have to go to the hospital, approval is given.  Fun.  While printing it, the lovely dog peed on the carpet.  Could this day get better?

Enough whining.  Time to write out an explanation of the steps of how to make the TV work.  I was really thinking of adding pictures to the explanation, but decided against it.  Enough is enough.

How I do my quiet time

I love my morning quiet time.  I get up early, make my coffee and savor it while I spend time with God.  The top picture shows how I start the time--with the reminder that God loves me.  Period.  Every day.  I say a prayer thanking the Lord for that fact and asking him to bless my time with him.

I then do my "academic" part.  I attend CBS, an in-depth bible study.  This year we're doing the book of Acts.  I do the work for the day, reading the section of Acts and answering the questions.

After that, I review the bible verses I'm working on right now in the spiral notecard pack.  I'll be honest--I'm not making memorization a priority and I should.  I do, however, review these verses and meditate on them.

Next I use the flowered notebook that has my sermon notes.  I read back through them and pray them for my life.  At the end of the book, I have 2 sections that I write in.

One is for recording where I have seen God's fingerprints.  I'll write the date and record how I see God working in my life through people, circumstances, etc.  If I don't have something to write that day, I list something I'm thankful for on the thankfulness section.

I then go to my prayer scrapbook.  On the pages, I have a picture and things to pray for.  When I get an answer, I highlight and date it.  I've been doing it for 4 years now and I love seeing how the Lord works. 

The last part is the book Jesus Calling.  It's a devotional book that reminds me of Jesus calling me to follow him daily.  I often write down the big idea so I can put it on my kitchen counter and it keeps me "honest" throughout the day.

One of my big fears of my twins starting kinder in the fall is that I won't have time for my luxurious time in the morning with the Lord.  I'm trusting that the Lord will help know how to  do it in a timely manner. Until then, I sure enjoy it.

Lessons from sheep

I don't know how much I've shared here about our animals, but we have some.  My husband grew up having animals for 4-H projects as well as dinner.  We are continuing with this tradition for our family.  His eventual goal is to be a full-time farmer but until he's at that point, we're moving steadily towards it.

A year ago, we had one dog.  Six months ago, we had a few animals--the dog passed away over the summer, but we added 5 sheep.  And then 2 pigs.  Followed by a dog to protect the sheep and 2 cows.  We then added another dog because Aaron needed a buddy that would be a pet as well as help him herd the sheep. 

The pigs are doing their job--eating, getting fat, fertilizing their pen for a future garden.  They will also be filling the freezer soon.  The calf, T-Bone, is also doing his job in growing to fill the freezer soon.  His mom, Bessie, is pregnant and will give us a calf at some point. 

As of yesterday, our sheep count is up to 11 sheep.  In farming terms, these are great advances. We have 6 lambs.  Allow me to share a bit about these little wooly boogers.  The breed we have isn't at all maternal.  The moms don't seem to care a bit about their lambs.  It's very odd and almost troubling to me.  I'm having to learn that not all creatures on this planet are the same and accept that fact.

The truth is that the boy lambs, 2 are boys, will only be with us a few more months and then they'll head off to be sold for meat.  This is the way a farm makes money, and we are farmers.  I'm having to get my head around this.

One of the dogs, Hank, is a protection dog.  He lives full-time with the sheep is his sole purpose is to protect them from coyotes.  The problem is he's a puppy and a doofus.  He plays too rough with the lambs and has injured their knees.  Very irritating.  Blaze, one of the lambs, is not healing very quickly and Aaron has had to doctor her up a few times.  She isn't nursing and acts like life is just not good.  She lays away from the other sheep.  And does her mom stay with her?  Nope.  She ignores her.  Tears my heart out.

So, last night when Aaron asked me to bottle feed her I was happy to do it.  I thought it would be sweet but it wasn't.  She wasn't interested at all and wrestling with her was just awkward.

Last night, I had her in a leg lock--she was in between my legs as a bent down over her, giving her the bottle.  Aaron had been more assertive with her and I could tell she preferred my gentle approach.  Awkward as it was, son #3 stood beside me and said sweet things to her as I coaxed her to take the bottle.  Such a precious moment for us.  As we did this, I could hear #2 in the pig pen literally chasing the pigs around, asking them to fight him.  It was very humorous to listen to.  #1 was off digging holes somewhere for some imaginary project.

Farming is so much more than I thought it was.  There's a softness to it when the animals need care.  There's a toughness to it when the animals have to be fed even when it's cold outside and we don't want to go.  And there's a beauty in realizing that God created nature to have seasons--seasons of birth, seasons of death and seasons of laughter and tears.  There's not much cuter in this world than watching a baby lamb bound across a field just loving life.  It's also heartbreaking to watch a baby lamb hobble after her mom who isn't even noticing her. 

But they're not people.  They don't have our level of feelings or emotions.  There are lots of things I could complain about with the farming.  I won't go down that road today.  What I love the most is being on this adventure as a family.  Celebrating that Blaze stood near her mom yesterday and that the other lambs are doing well.  Laughing with the boys and Aaron at the silly sounds the pigs make.  Watching Aaron teach the boys how to be men who love the land and work hard. 

As the fabric of our family weaves together to create who we are, it's really beautiful to step back and see that those carefully made stitches are coming together to form a beautiful tapestry.  Maybe not the one I had planned out, but one that is uniquely us.  One I'm proud to be a part of.

Who am I pleasing?

I accidentally found a great book that I want to recommend:  Women Who Try too Hard:  Breaking the Pleaser Habits by Dr Kevin Leman.

I was looking for another book and found this one in my search.  I'll say that not all of this book applies to me, but I got some great nuggets from it.  I'll share a few:

*You can be a "pleaser" and not be a doormat.  I love pleasing people, but this book reminded me that it's my choice to please others.  It's OK to disappoint others, too when I say no.

*Being a perfectionist isn't that great.  In this book, there's a wonderful chart that compares what a perfectionist expects and what someone who has high expectations of herself expects.  Being a perfectionist is tiring and exhausting.  Pre-kids, I wouldn't have considered myself a perfectionist.  I enjoyed teaching, my home and my life.  I didn't feel like I needed a tight grip to be OK.  And then kids came along and I felt overwhelmed by not measuring up.  What a lie.  I cringe that I bought into it for so long (and continue to when I stop paying attention).

The perfectionist vs non-perfectionist basically comes down to what Aaron and I call the "growth mindset."  We read a book a few years back that discussed the difference between the growth mindset--one that believes change is possible--as opposed to the closed mindset--one that believes change isn't possible.

Just the other day we had a tiff about our new dog.  He's irritating.  At just the worst time--when I'm preparing dinner--he gets super hyper and wants to pay with the boys when they don't want anything to do with him.  This is a problem.  We finally agreed that the growth mindset was needed here.  I had to become the boss of the dog and the situation.  I did and even though the dog still isn't my favorite thing in my life, that hour is much improved.

The other day I did an exercise video (yes, I enjoy those) that I got on NetFlix.  It was hip hop.  I'm not a hip hop girl but I sure enjoy dancing like a crazy person around my living room.  And I didn't follow the instructor exactly.  At first I was bothered that I wasn't exactly doing what she was, but then I realized my way was more fun for me so I should just enjoy it.  And I did.

*Dr Lehman made the argument that to have a strong self-esteem you need to believe in God's love for you.  That was nice to hear.  I'm really working on reminding myself that God loves me for who I am regardless of what I do or how well I do it.  I had no idea how little I accepted God's unconditional love for me until recently.  What a beautiful realization.

*I can do things that are pleasing for others, but I can do them because it's fun for me.  In our Sunday School class, it's easy to see what parts of the body we are.  Jenny who organizes the backpack ministry is the heart, Rachel who sends out the weekly emails and organizes us is the brain, many of the men are the mouths and others have their places.  I thought I was another mouth because I talk enough for me and Aaron, but I've realized I'm the eyes.  I have a heart for those just outside the fold.  When visitors come, it's very important to me that they feel included and welcomed.

On this, I decided to make a bulletin board for our class.  In years past, we have shared classroom space with the PK choir so we haven't had use of the bulletin boards.  Now, the boards are empty.  Not fun.  So, I decided to use them to spruce up our classroom a bit.  I took pictures of everyone and asked them to fill out a very small info blurb.  I met with mild resistance but they complied.  I had lots of fun getting the necessary cute stuff for the bulletin board to make it look nice. 

We actually have a artist type in our class who could do this same project and make it look 200% better than I will.  But that's OK.  She's on the church's building committee and her cup is full with that.  I'm excited to do it so that when a couple comes in, they can see that they have things in common with those of us in the room.  That's a good thing to see.  When I finish it up I doubt I'll get cheers but I'm not doing it for those already in the group.  God gave me the vision to see what a small thing like a bulletin board can be for someone looking to find a place to belong.  And I'm blessed that I have the time available to do it.

The book talks a lot about women who are much more dependent on pleasing others than I am.  I am what he calls a "positive pleaser" which means I do like pleasing, but I do it in a way that's positive for me.  Most of the time.  Not so much with my parents--I do try too hard to gain their approval.  At least I know that so I can work to do better with it in the future.

It's so nice to know that at 34 I'm still growing and improving.  I want to enjoy my life, not waste it away hoping for the approval of others.  Wish it were easier to do, but it's nice to know I have a choice in the matter.

Odd conclusion to yesterday's post

Yesterday I posted that since I couldn't go to the mom's night I played the piano and made peace with it.  A wise woman would have left it that way.

Instead, when Aaron got home he fixed the fence (easy fix) and tended to farm duties while I fed boys.  He then sent me on my way to my mom's night.  He wanted me to go and who was I to say no?

I met up with my buddies at the yogurt place and they chatted about the fun of shooting guns.  I was glad for them. 

This is where the story gets a bit odd.  In years past, I've noticed that there are mom's nights that are just a bust for me.  Not necessarily because of the girls there, but it just misses the mark for me for whatever reason.  Last night such was the case.  I was hoping for fun, easy chatting but we landed on one of those mom hot topics.  Suffice it to say I have strong feelings one way and even though I tried to bite my tongue, another mom had strong feelings the other way and I just couldn't not represent my side.  It didn't get ugly, but it wasn't what I had hoped to spend an evening discussing.

I came home in a funk, not even sure why.  I think I had gone out expecting to feel connected to other girls and I left feeling agitated.  Not how I wanted to feel.

That's what's tricky about girl nights.  You pull a favor from husband to have some time for you, and it's not great.  I know better than to get pulled into an argument like that.  I don't want to be that know-it-all that can't have a casual conversation.  Oh well.  Some days are just like that.

Piano vs shooting guns

Today I let #1 have a Mommy Day.  My boys think these are pure gold.  The other brothers go to MDO and one gets to spend the day with me.  I did one per boy fall semester so they could get their well-check appts on their own.  It worked out well.  Also, #2 loves alone time.  It really resets his battery.  I decided to do another round of Mommy Days so that I could spend some time with the boys and so they could spend their Christmas money.

We hadn't taken them shopping like this before, so they had a few birthdays built up.  Each boy has had his day with me and overall, they've been good.  Today #1 had his day and of all of them, he's the one that is easiest for me to deal with.

It was also easy knowing that I had a mom's night out tonight.  My MOPs group is getting together to shoot guns at a gun range in town.  Don't think I would choose that on my own, but it sounds like a great way to blow off some steam.  Afterwards, we're headed over to a yogurt place just to chat. 

There was a time I went to each mom's night out we had.  And then my husband started collecting animals on the farm.  Now, it doesn't always work out that I can go.  Like tonight.  The electric fence has a short.  He can't work on it until after boys get down (which I appreciate) but after they're down, he has to go do it.  Someone has to stay in the house so that if boys get up or need help an adult is there.  I get to be that adult.

Instead of shooting targets, I'll be sitting on the couch.  Bummer.  When I connected all these dots (at 4PM when I had been looking forward to girl time for 2 days) I made a decision.  My battery has to be recharged.  If it can't be recharged by being with friends, I can recharge at home by playing the piano.  So I did.  Nice and loudly for 30 minutes while the boys were told to leave me in peace.  They did.  Very good.

Husband will be home before long and I can be at my best for him.  Pianos are good things.

The greatness of Sundays

As I write this, my boys are "working" with Aaron outside.  He's working on fence and they are very involved in whatever work they create for themselves.  I call us "free range parents" when it comes to being at the farm.  We just let the boys go.  They climb fence, dig stuff up, move fallen trees (small ones--they're not Paul Bunyons).  And they love it.

I made a token wife appearance at the farm to appease husband and I do like to see the lambs--there are 3 now--but it's very windy.  I was very happy no one wanted to come back to the house with me.  So, I'm sitting in silence, sucking on a cherry lollipop and pondering over the greatness that is Sunday.

Sundays are great.  I love our church.  Going there is a joy for me.  Pre-kids we would go out to eat for Sunday lunch.  It was nice.  And then kids came.  We did takeout for a while, but now that Aaron is losing weight that has stopped.  So, I do a crockpot meal.  Today I made a chicken tortilla soup that turned out well. 

I've since written a letter to a dear friend who lives far away, lingered over the Sunday paper, put together a sophisticated pork dish for supper that can cook all afternoon and be delicious later.

And the phone rang.  Husband calling telling me #3 is done at the farm, to watch for him as he comes back.  Did it.  Another call.  #2 headed my way.

So much for silence.  Sunday is still nice, just a bit noisier now.