Other’s Day

Maybe it’s the fact that Matt’s birthday sign is still hanging by our table. Maybe it’s that the diaper laundry needs done. And things need packed for the girls. And we missed Sunday School because the girls slept in. Maybe it’s the extra flare of allegies that are making my stomach sour from the added mucus (mmmm, yes). Or maybe it’s the fact that I view Mother’s Day in terms of my Mom and Matt’s. Or maybe it’s that nothing abnormal happened this morning, the same kiss and goodbye as every other Sunday.

But today does not feel like “my” Mother’s day.

I have this laundry list of things to do today – laundry included. And going to Grandma’s house to celebrate her. And then there’s trying to fit in naps and the question of where. And then there’s the evening church service and everything that makes today feel like a small holiday celebrating something or someone else.

I’m not trying to sound selfish or complainy. That’s not the point at all. Today just doesn’t feel like My Mother’s Day. I see the posts on facebook and the organizations’ links to generic Mother’s Day greetings, but it just seems like Mother’s Day is happening everywhere but here.

Kind of odd, but true.

It’s just the start of another day here. Normal breakfast needs from two little girls and one swimmer tag-along. Normal getting dressed and faces wiped and teeth brushed. Normal breakfast table conversation. Normal showering and getting dressed with nothing that really seems to fit or in which I feel comfortable in this baby-carrying phase. Quiet… normal.

I’m not expecting fanfare and quite honestly I don’t enjoy being in the spotlight and am hopeful to avoid any Mother’s day public attention at church when we go to service here later. But it just feels… like it’s not My Mother’s Day, but it’s everyone else’s.

So today I’ll enjoy celebrating Grandma, remembering our celebration of Goga (my Mom’s pet name) yesterday, and I’ll run the schedule as normal, enjoying our girls and their delights.

Maybe it’s just that Mother’s Day feels like every other day because… that’s what Mother’s Day is.

Err maybe it’s just the prego hormones playing with my head. 😉

Christmas on May 11th

I heard the doorbell ring while I was sitting at the computer researching local pick-your-own farms. My ears perked up… could it be? I had just heard air breaks…. Could it be?!

I half-danced to the doorway as I saw the joyful brown tail end of the truck through the front window’s open blinds. It could be… it could be.

A smile spread across my face as I saw the small package sitting on my doorstep, the delivery man having returned to his truck with a wave.

MY PACKAGE!!!!!

Christmas had come on May 11th when it was scheduled to come on May 12th.

I swiped up that package and headed for the kitchen pear knife in the knife-block. (Am I the only one that uses those things to open boxes?)  The seams cut easily and joy filled my heart at the sight of the bubble wrap (a promise of pop-ability later). There it sat, my organic coconut oil – a hope of three year old eczema and toddler diaper rash surrendering control.

So what did I do?

I knew she was still awake in that crib, fighting the occasional nap time stubbornness. I plucked that child right out of the crib, pasted her fanny and tucked her right back in. And the already asleep three year old? One side of her cheek was dusted. =D

People… it was CHRISTMAS!!!! hehe.

– Hopeful for future results. =)

*** When you fight sensitive skin needs any hope of relief is such a welcome helper, especially when watching your kids suffer. That AND… clearly I am easily amused. 😉

Wordless Wednesdays: Close

 Close:
it’s their default. 
– blessed so.
*** I had to post this edition of the Wordless Wednesday late due to these pictures be taken in a batch of Birthday pictures given to Matt on his Birthday Thursday. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Thanks for your patience. 😉

In Our Arms

Our newest church member was starting to get fussy. It had been a long day of stimulus with feeding time and bed time right around the corner. He found self-soothing in his hand, slurping and enjoying the semi-controlled friend. Mommy came out of her class to pace a bit with him, concerned that his sucking was amplified and distracting for others. I offered to take him. not because she couldn’t handle him. I knew my offer wouldn’t communicate to her my lack of confidence in her ability. She willingly handed him off, happy to share the blessing of a snuggler.

We chatted a bit as I held him.

He kept his eyes on her, flashing her a smile each time she came into closer view. A bright, vibrant smile no one else could get. The sign of full trust and confidence.

Then he started to get fussy again, the hand and the pacifier were not enough. She reached to take him back as he worked himself into a little fit. Within seconds of smelling her hair and feeling that familiar bounce at her shoulder, he nuzzled closer and settled down. Self-control and patience returned to him. His security in her spoke volumes. That was his Mommy. The right one. And he was in the right place.

I had forgotten what it was like in the beginning. O, I’ve always loved the snuggling and thanks to my current youngest, she has carried most of her snuggling traits/needs well into toddlerhood. But there’s something different about that beginning snuggling. Before words can be communicated… wants, needs… When baby looks to your cues and reads your body language like a book, and you theirs.

And there is something precious in the blessing of feeling their comfort in Mommy’s arms. Just holding sometimes is enough. The confidence, reassurance and peace they find in Mommy’s voice, soft touch and gentle bounces. Mommy knows the best way to snuggle, the right positions, that comfy spot.

It all came flooding back. And in that moment I wanted to hold Hannah right then and there… physically wrapping her in the love we have for her. Giving her the confidence and the comfort and the peace that God has blessed Mothers to give…

She was kicking and squirming again last night. And she’s kicking and squirming again this morning. Evidence of her timer not being done for a little while yet – she has too much room still. =)

But some day she may get to read this and know that she was so loved from the very beginning…

before we ever once held her in our arms…

Nipping Bad Habits

In evaluating the household (important thing to do periodically), I’ve come to the realization that we have fallen into a few bad habits.  Abi – screaming/crying/tantrumming more when things don’t go her way. Rachael – being quite bossy in play.  And me – not being more involved in discipleship. On the outside these are very normal things. Moms get tired, three year olds get bossy in an effort for “independence” and directing “more advanced role play”, and nearly two year olds become overcome with emotions and, thus, begin tantrumming. But could you imagine what we would be like if Jesus decided to stop discipling because “we were just acting normally” and thus left us to our own demise? Not a pretty picture.

So I was thinking of practical ways to nip these few bad habits in the butt, or at least try our best to work toward great self-control.

So for me – it means intentionality, greater listening and more calm responses.
Rachael – practicing hospitality and greater problem-solving in including Abi in play and interpreting Abi’s wants/needs.
Abi – using words to express her wants/needs and compromising.

And how do Rachael and Abi advance those skills? You got it, Mommy’s modeling (you didn’t know I was a model in my spare time did you?).

This may sound like technical mumbo-jumbo but the reality is that I need to show my children how to play, respect each other, and, in turn, love each other “right where they are.” This should be an intentional thing because, just like anyone, we all struggle with our sin nature that says, “MINE!”, “DO THIS!”, and “GO AWAY!” No one needed to teach me selfishness and I sure haven’t needed to teach my kids either. But the way I model respect and love in our household is their foundation for all their interactions outside of the home.

Please hear me clearly that I am not expecting perfection. Abi and Rachael have yet to give their lives to Christ, and therefore cannot live out the full hospitality, love and grace that the Holy Spirit within us fosters.But me, on the other hand, being in Christ, that’s a different story. I may be the voice of reason here for a good long while (and I think I should be) but I also desire for Rachael and Abi to have a clear picture of what treating other’s like “in Jesus” or “while thinking about Jesus” should look like as opposed to thinking only of self. Since primarily morality is a parent’s discipleship tool as we wait and pray for the Scriptures to stir up within our kids, it’s important to make clearly defined expectations. It goes beyond not wanting our kids to be fools in public (not the point), but it’s figuring out the reality of living with and truly enjoying the lifestyle of your kids. Putting up with behaviors only goes so far in a hands-off approach. Children never grow into moral maturity on their own. Heck, adults don’t even grow into moral maturity on their own. We need constant examples, grace and someone to come alongside us to love us into self-control in Christ.

We still will have our off days and off moments of “please, you just go play over there by yourself and you way over there by yourself.” But I have been encouraged by the small progresses just a morning’s worth of intentional training has produced: Rachael asking Abi with a please to play certain ways and respecting her “no” and alternative way of play despite not wanting to, Abi using more words quickly after her initial 2 second explosion or not even exploding twice, and me really focusing on discipleship and showing my kids more of Jesus in grace and practical love.

It sounds like simple things, and it is! But sometimes the simplest things are the hardest to build a consistent self-control when you look at the big picture of where you wish you could be. Step by step, situation by situation… I’m reminded of our encouragement to never grow tired of doing good (2 Timothy 3:13) and our responsibility as parents to train our children in the way they should go (Proverbs 22:6). Training takes time, extra effort, modeling and grace.

God teaches me best through open eyes to His example of parenting me. And I am so blessed that He lovingly, quietly and gently sits down beside me, guiding me into the way I should better treat  and teach others.  Teaching hospitality and kindness breeds hospitality and kindness in myself.

– Learning with my kids.

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