Get a Grip!

I've never really been a big fan of having fingernail polish on my hands. In my opinion, it's kind of like slapping some lipstick on a pig. My hands are big and ogre-like. I have dry patches on my fingers from too much dishwater, calluses on my palms from years of manual labor, I chew my cuticles and my fingers are crooked. I have always been self conscious about my hands to a point of shame. I try to hide them in photographs and I pull my sleeves down over them... (when I can find sleeves long enough to cover my gorilla arms. But we'll cover that issue in another entry). When I clap along with my preschoolers, I always have at least one bright-eyed, honest to a fault, tiny human turn around and comment on the fact that my clap sounds like thunder in the mountains. Seriously folks, you can't make this stuff up.

All of these horrific descriptions truly paint a bleak picture for my future in hand modeling, don't they? However, these descriptions are what is seen through the stained, smudged, chronically over critical lenses of my own horribly inaccurate eyes. Our warped ideas can truly set us on a path to self condemnation. It goes much deeper than hands. We look, we see and we condemn ourselves. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Now, I'm going to get all biblical. I'm about to drop a loving truth bomb on you.

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death." Romans 8:1

When we live for something bigger than our world, our lenses focus and soften at the same time. We have the ability to see clearer, yet, by grace, we have the ability to love what we see. It is our world that fills our heads with the lies of insurmountable expectations. Always falling short. You get a lot of skinned knees and broken noses living life like that. I, for one, am not a fan of kissing the concrete. But, here's the kicker... did you know there is another way to live? We can choose to see ourselves and others through the eyes of a God who loves! His grace abounds and it beckons us to live a life for Him!

Now, let's take a look at these big ol' meat hooks of mine through the eyes of our awesome Creator. I see a little girl who could gather up enough jax to make her high-man at Horace Mann Elementary for 3 weeks straight. I see hands of proficiency that could maneuver a drafting pencil to create  blueprints and elevations. I see a hand with a beautiful ring on it, a symbol of my life long commitment to the man I love. I see hands that held my babies, played ball with my little boys, braided my little girls hair and turned pages on countless storybooks during snuggle time. I serve. I comfort. I love and I work. All with those big, awkward hands that moments ago seemed so horrible.

So often we aren't looking at ourselves through the proper lenses. We see flaws, He sees beauty. We see inadequacy, He sees sufficiency. By the grace we are given, we can see the masterpiece we are. Let's live like we are beautiful contributions to our world! Let's see others for being beautiful contributions to our world! Let us live in these truths and remember the sacrifice that was made to enable us to see ourselves and others through the proper "prescription". End of Chapel Talk.

"Ditch" the Pacifier

It was the year 2012. We were cruising down the interstate at approximately 68 mph. Just another voyage in the family truckster. Chris, myself, Noah, Benjamin... and... the "siren". Our precious little girl had this horrible personality trait.  She liked to cry.  She cried here.  She cried there.  She cried every which where.  She cried in the car. We weren't going far, but she didn't care.  This trip happened to coincide with the very day that Chris and I had decided to put an end to our dependency on that terribly addictive suckling device: the pacifier.  Having thrown them all away at home, I figured we were in the clear for fall backs. We were driving down the road, in ultimate agony, having listened to our little pumpkin's high pitched lamentations for far too long.  This is when our defining moment was upon us. The great test of the wills, if you... will.  It was at this moment that I recalled a hidden treasure in the ash tray.  A doobie? A pair of ear plugs? An extra Vicodon? All would have been an enjoyable surprise. But, there sat, all clean and ready and waiting, like a soldier on the frontlines of battle: Lillian's. emergency. binky.

Chris's eyes met mine. One million scenarios flew through my tired and frazzled maternal brain.  All of which left our little girl quietly suckling in her carseat.  All of which left me, defeated and hoodwinked; taken advantage of in my weakness and my desire for a quiet, peaceful ride to Bass Pro Shop. I licked my lips and clenched my fists, gritted my teeth and steadied myself for defeat.  But, there within me, a tiny flicker of light began to spread through my body and strengthen my defense. My withered grimace began to flatten and curl up into a smug little smile, as if I were enjoying an inside joke that only I knew the punch line to.  I met Chris's eyes, and with that insane intimacy that only years of marriage can bring, we began to participate in one of our non-verbal conversations.  He looked at the binky and then he looked at me. His eyebrows went up. My eyebrows stayed down... but then one started to quiver.  My weakness was detected. With one last stern and animated facial disfigurement, my hand slammed down on the automatic window button! The window started going down and before I knew it, with great accuracy and incredible speed, I threw that binky right out the window!  The scream flew from my lips as I saw it fly into the weeded ditch in my side mirror. It mutated into this crazy laugh, the kind that is usually accompanied by bad guy music.  After many words from my little boys about how littering is naughty, our entire car was filled with laughter, and it was that laughter that quieted our little girl.

Don't we all have things like that in our lives? We have moments where we are presented with opportunities to display our strength and courage, stick to our guns, and do what we said we were going to do.  It's pretty easy to reach for that emergency binky and let our desire for immediate relief take control of our decision making abilities.  Granted, I wish all of our trials in life could be as innoscent and harmless as "The Great Binky Debacle". But, for the times when life presents us with challenges with a bit more meat on them, it's important that we reach inside of ourselves to stay the course and keep our eyes fixed on the strength that God has given to us.  Don't take that next drink. Don't say those heated words. Don't eat that tenth oreo.  Don't reach out for immediate relief.  It is so fleating, and the effects can be devestating and last a lifetime.  As it says in Isaiah 40:31, "but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles: they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." It is my prayer that this strength will be yours when you need it. For those defining moments, great and small. 

"The Dance"

My one hour of solitude has washed over me like the brightness of sight given to a blind man.  Oh! How I long for this one hour of the day.  A moment to sit, breathe, elevate something, pound a nutty bar free from the scrutinizing glares and guilt-laden pleas of a child "whose mommy doesn't share very well (pouty lip)"... You ALL know what I'm talking about. I'm not the only one who has hidden in the bathroom, consuming the last bit of crumbs from the Oreo bag, camouflaging the sound of the bag with running water.  That's right.  Bring forth the truth!!

It seems as though it's been ages since I've expressed my inner turmoil with the written word. My fingertips have truly missed the keyboard.  2013 has roared in like a lion.  The blessing of employment for me has been such an answered prayer.  But it has also taken away some precious moments that I once took for granted.  I work in the evenings now.  What used to be a time for Chris and I to sit and chat about each others days has turned into a hysterical dance of tag-teaming.  Its almost as if we are two beaten and bloodied boxers struggling to fend off the offenses of an elite MMA fighter.  I put in my hours in the ring during the day, loving my babies all along, but suffering the blows where they fall.  A tattle is the equivalent of a jab. They weaken me with the relentless bickering, landing a sharp right hook. And then, with my defenses down, someone tries to finish me off with a tantrum, UPPERCUT!! As the four o'clock hour approaches, I can almost hear the engine of our 2004 Trailblazer tentatively creeping the curb, as if the driver/fighter is not entirely sure he wants to enter the ring.  As Chris approaches the house, I pull my bloodied corpse to the door where we engage in the most hilarious repartee of who beat on who, who missed their nap, who pooped their pants, and what's for supper... not always in that order. A quick kiss from all parties, a quick high five for Chris and the fresh boxer enters the ring.

Yikes. I paint a bleak picture, don't I? I'm very much exaggerating in how badly beaten I leave the house.  Some days it's much worse than others.  However, aside from the superfluous details, doesn't it seem to be this way? Sometimes I find myself asking Chris, "Is it always going to be this hard?" I ask the question even though I know the answer.  Raising small children is such a battle.  Thank God we are equipped with the tools we need to handle the day in day out situations that would leave a lesser person bloodied and mangled.  It's not just the time with Chris that I miss.  The bubbly baths, the storybooks, the tucking in and singing songs.  It all gets taken for granted.  The nights I don't work, I try to remind myself of how much I miss it and to slow down and make the creases in the blankets a little tighter, the songs a little longer, and no skipping pages in the story books.  I love being a Mama.  No matter how exhausting, how maddening, it's such an amazing blessing.  God knew what he was doing when he gave me each of my children, and He knew he wasn't giving me anything I couldn't handle.  Some days I feel like God has a little more confidence in my abilities than I do, but nonetheless, He knows. 

As I finish my last paragraph, I see naked little feet coming down the steps. I realize my hour of me-time is over.  I am thankful to have had it, but am even more thankful for those little naked feet.  DING! DING! Round 2!!!

Having a Thankful Heart!

Two days following Halloween, my boys wake up and are still so eager to run downstairs and count the delicious, sugar-filled pieces of their Halloween agglomeration.  This morning something very profound struck my heart.  My littlest boy, Ben, was counting his candy.  Both boys had received several gummy eyeballs.  Benjamin had already devoured his and was staring, longingly, at Noah's uneaten bodily remains.  The thought that crossed my mind was that I would be removing a little candy caper from our living room, but I was caught off guard by what happened.  Benjamin wrapped his sweet, soft little boy hands around his candy pile and with as much love in his heart as he could muster he pushed the entire pile over to Noah.  "Here Noah." He said. "I'd like to give you all the pieces of my candy."

It's not just the words, but it's how he said it.  There was no joking reference, no sarcasm, no disdain. It was whole-hearted, authentic generosity.  Something that, as many mothers know, can be a pretty extraordinary emotion in a 3 year old boy. My heart blew up with elation as Benjamin made his offering to his big brother.  Then, within the same heartbeat, my jaw dropped to the floor as Noah grappled at the candy pieces and pulled them out of Ben's hands without so much as a thank you.  To make matters worse, Benjamin then tried to retrieve one piece of the candy for himself and Noah immediately grabbed it out of his hand claiming his right to ownership.  That was the straw that broke the camel's back.  Mama Bears need to protect their cubs, even from each other.  I hope my roar didn't come out audibly as loud as it was in my heart. 

Needless to say, Noah got a lesson in thankfulness this morning.  I'm not a big fan of those touchy-feely, Full House lectures. Mr. Tanner sits down with Stephanie and DJ while soft, nurturing music fills the background...not really my style. But, how does one teach thankfulness?? We should embody this quality year round, but during the season of Thanksgiving, isn't it the perfect time to highlight this lesson and try to teach our little ones to hold it in their hearts? 

This world can be so ungrateful, full of entitlement and greed.  As dismal a portrait as I just painted, there is another side to the coin.  There are people who give, adamantly and whole-heartedly, just like my Benjamin.  How do we teach our children to do the same? Just as important, how do we teach our children to have hearts full of thankfulness and joy!? I think it's important for us to call our children out when they are demonstrating poor qualities of the heart and not just let it slide by, labeling it as a "phase" or making the excuse that they don't understand their actions. It goes beyond teaching manners. Lessons of the heart strike much deeper. I want this world to be a better place when my children grow up.  I want there to be more love and less hate, more giving and less taking, more God and less "people pleasing". This time of Thanksgiving should be just that. I'd like to work on my heart this season to think less of myself and to be joyful and grateful for all that I have and have been given.  I'm going to bring my children into this celebration! I'm going teach them how to be grateful, by first reminding myself how to be grateful. 

There's an old lesson about a plane going down.  When the oxygen masks drop, you place one on yourself first, so you are fully capable of assisting those around you.  I think we need to work on our own hearts.  Our children will see that, as they tend to see EVERYTHING... even the crud. This Thanksgiving season, I pray for all of us that our hearts will be filled with the good stuff.  Let's not just BE grateful, let's ACT grateful.  The lessons begin small with Halloween candy.  It's this mom's hope that when the lessons get big, my children will carry thankfulness in their hearts and no act of kindness will go unrecognized. Big or small.

The Savvy Fiduciary

COUPON CLIPPERS UNITE! How in the world does one thrive in a one-income family this day and age?! I'm on a quest to find the perfect part time job that will work around a full time mom's schedule, be flexible enough that a puking or sniffling child is a good enough reason for my absence, and will give the body of my family's financial livelihood a little pecuniary splurge.

We're all on a budget, times are tough.  Until that perfect employment opportunity comes along, we will have to rely on my scathingly brilliant schemes of economic expansion. I've been compiling a list of economically friendly tips to help trim some "fat" from our budget belly. Take a look:

1. Cut down on fast food or treats. Mama loves her greasy Baconator... what can I say?

2. Trim your shower time by a mere 2 minutes.  According to the back of my Suave body wash bottle, this may save up to $150 a year and close to 4,600 gallons of water! According to my husband, my showers are so long, he should keep his shower the same and I should cut mine down by 4 minutes. Motion denied.

3. Plan family meals based on the adds at the market.  It's not so much "eat what you're hungry for", it's more or less "Be hungry for what you can eat".

4. Buy in bulk when you find it economically advantageous.  I bought a 10 pound tube of hamburger from the market last month because it was far more reasonable in the long run than buying the 2 pounds I needed.  Aside from the financial perks, this tube 'o beef would be a stellar weapon to use on burglars, Kirby salesmen, and those pesky door to door politicians.

5. Shut the lights off! If anyone has ever driven by and witnessed us dining by candlelight, it's not a romantic gesture.

6. Rent movies from your local library.  True, halfway through most of them the DVD begins to skip and you have to turn off your TV, completely unsatisfied.  If you're specifically keen to the mystery genre, this may not bother you too much.

7. Shop second hand stores, especially for kids clothing.  It takes approximately 2 wears before Noah's jeans have holes in the knees.  This is the kid who can wear a hole through a pair of sweatpants! Ridiculous...

8. Conserve your gasoline! Stop driving so much.  Plan one trip for multiple purposes. Or, just walk... But walk slowly, or you may break a sweat.  Then you would need an additional shower, thus proving this bullet point to be extremely counter-productive.

9. Turn your heat down.  When my brother and I were kids, if we told Dad we were cold, he would tell us to go put on another sweatshirt. Who needs heat nowadays when we have the technology of the Snuggie!

10. And finally, my last tip for economic expansion: hang dry your clothes.  According to one study, your clothes dryer is the second largest energy consuming appliances in your home, using up to 4000 watts per operation! We have a clothesline outside for the warmer months and one inside for the winter months.  It looks a bit tacky on laundry day, but it puts great moisture back in the air that is lost during those dry, winter days. 

Now, I'm no expert.  I'm just trying to be a resourceful, savvy fiduciary. I invite you to comment at the bottom of my blog and share some of your creative ways to make the dollar stretch!

"Rocking" our Babies

In the world of sacrifice, there are very few occupations in the world that cause someone to give more of themselves than motherhood. The love, the time, the dedication. What a mother will give up for her children is endless. I would lay down my own life for my sweet babies. 

HOWEVER, I will not, I shall not, I shan't give up my right to ROCK! Yes, I will admit the CD player in my ruby-red minivan is indeed filled with Veggie Tales, Mary Poppins and Sunday School Classics. After all, there is a time and place for everything.  Nevertheless, when you see us cruisin' down the road, heads a bobbin', spankin' that air bass, I can guarantee you, Julie Andrews is not the cause of the commotion.  My boys know more Switchfoot and Toby Mac lyrics than most grown men! I don't shelter them from their crazy Mom's abilities to jam.  I figure they'll either hate it about me or love it about me. I think at this point in their lives, I'm still riding the wave of cool and they have not yet realized my potential to embarrass them.  Noah has even asked if he and I could go to a rock concert together someday.  Every mother's dream!

I've traded in my purse for a luxurious Menard's Backpack on rebate with padded shoulder straps.  I've given up my SUV for the convenience and space accommodations of a minivan.  I've said goodbye to Victoria's Secret and hello to affordable, conservative cotton 6 packs from the dollar store. There are very few ways in which I can sink any further into this Mom-gig.  But, true to my soul, to the depths of my heart, I will rock until the day I die. Probably wearing a cozy pair of Mom jeans. 

Check out my favorite band and give them a listen -
http://www.switchfoot.com/

Baking With Children

Baking with a child. Need I say anything more to bring images of flour-covered kitchen walls and crunchy, egg shell-laden baked goods to the front of your mind!? One bit of advice I always give after making a masterpiece with my children: "chew carefully".  When I was little, I remember diving into culinary projects with my mom, plastering my face to the oven door to watch the delicious chocolate morsels melting into the golden brown masses of sticky, gooey goodness.  A thought has crossed my mind, now that I am the mom in the generation. Did my mom have a hard time parting with the beaters? It's like a torch passing ceremony when we can no longer lick our own beaters, because some little nose picking, sticky fingered progeny has planted their little flag in our mixing bowl, like Columbus discovering the New World! I wont spoil their enthusiasm by telling them that I've already been there and done that!

In all honesty, I am happy to make the sacrifice.  To me, there's nothing better than being in the kitchen on a cold day, the tunes of an old crooner coming from the stereo, delicious smells coming from the oven.  The little voices, asking if they can add the baking soda, just make that experience so much more meaningful, and so much warmer, not to mention entertaining! Especially with some of my favorite holidays quickly approaching, in my family, the kitchen has always been a place for gathering, a place for laughter, and a place to stuff your face with as much unhealthy food as possible! 

All chaos aside, baking with children is a bit of a legacy. I have it flowing through my veins thanks to my Mom, and now, hopefully, my children will have the same inclination toward the kitchen because of these messy, wonderful moments together.  Just mother, offspring, and mixing bowl. A little love goes a long way!