Monthly Archives: May 2008
Giveaway this week!
Girl meets Shoe
… and falls in love.
I’m a barefoot girl. Blame my farmer roots and my flowerchild personality. The first thing I do when I get home is take off my shoes. They aren’t put on again until absolutely necessary. Even then, my shoe of preference is a sandal. I wear sandals nine months out of the year. Not a big deal if we lived in Texas or SoCal. But since we can have snow from November to March, my free digits are shocking to some of our neighbors. One of Ellie’s teachers, born and raised in Trinidad, was sure I’d die of pneumonia before the school year was out. And the issue extends beyond shoes. I can’t sleep with tucked-in sheets. I know I don’t garner oxygen through my feet, but still, it’s an uncomfortable state I liken to suffocation.
A couple weeks ago Rick took the kids so I could go shopping. I needed some summer stuff and the requisite sandals. They didn’t have any fun hippy styles, so I meandered through the more athletic rows of shoes hoping to find something slightly funky. Instead I found the shoes of my dreams.
I slipped into these thongs and instantly felt my whole body relax. The gel-like soles massaged my sweet feet and lifted a smile to my face. A smile that hasn’t faded in two weeks. I had to buy them. I may go back for more.
So, here I am, a barefoot girl in love with some shoes. I even wear them in the house when there is no need. They’re more comfortable than wearing nothing at all.
Just had to share. My husband is tired of hearing me talk about them.
Wanting the world
Last night mom guilt kicked in again. Every task I needed to complete seemed to take twice as long as expected, so by the end of the day, Ellie was feeling a bit neglected. We didn’t play outside as long as she had wanted and we never got to that long-awaited tea party with Cinderella and Strawberry Shortcake. Before tucking her in bed I told her: “Tomorrow you don’t have school, so we can do whatever you want to do.” She was thrilled, and I silently patted myself on the back for being such a flexible mom. Problem solved; mom guilt abated. Then today dawned, and I realized my four-year-old expert on semantics was going to take me to the cleaners.
We started by watching a show I can’t stand. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with the show, but it doesn’t teach anything and one of the main characters has a speech impediment. Why do they do that? Their target audience is toddlers and preschoolers who are still learning to speak properly and so they create a character who will reinforce incorrect pronunciations. It irks me. Anywho, I digress. We watch this show for a bit then headed to the mall, her favorite place in the world next to Grandma’s. We visited all her favorite stores; threw money in the fountain and at a couple new outfits and a pair of sandals. We rode the carousel, got smoothies and Auntie Anne’s pretzels, then visited the pet store. After that, she was done with the mall and ready for IKEA.
A normal mother would have put a stop to it at this point, but I did need to pick up a couple things at IKEA, so I trotted along behind my headstrong daughter. After about an hour of having formal dinner parties in each of the display kitchens and tea parties in all the living rooms, Zach had had enough. I had had enough.
Enduring many tears and pleas for more, I prodded two over-tired kids through checkout and to the van. They were much happier once outside. While strapping in Zach and handing snacks to each of my little cherubs, I smiled at Isabel. “Have you had a good day?”
“Well, Mom, it wasn’t the best day.” Isabel sighed heavily.
“What do you mean?” I went on to list the many fun things we did at her request.
“But we didn’t go to the park!”
Sound familiar? How often do we whine to God about never having enough. Life isn’t perfect enough. We do all the right things and still Sally Sinner has more than we do. Wah, wah, wah. We are given grace upon grace, blessing upon blessing, but we just can’t get past wanting a little bit more.
I don’t have to work. I have an extremely attractive, loving, wonderful, patient, helpful husband who is a brilliant man and an amazing father. I have two gorgeous, healthy, intelligent, creative children. I have a church family I love, tons of friends, a great neighborhood … I get along beautifully with my mother-in-law! What more could I possibly want? Oh, just a bigger house and more free time and a vacation home in the Carribbean; a trip to Europe and a green thumb and … the list goes on.
God has given me everything, and I refuse to be a spoiled child because of it.
Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name;
make known among the nations what he has done.
Sing to him, sing praise to him;
tell of all his wonderful acts.
Glory in his holy name;
let the hearts of those who seek the LORD rejoice.
Psalm 105:1-3 (NIV)
Happy Mother’s Day!
My kids LOVE Go Fish! Ellie and I met them last fall when they performed at our church. Zach can’t wait to attend his first “rock concert” when the Go Fish Guys return to the area. If you’ve never heard them (or of them), here’s an introduction in honor of today.
Ellie-isms & Zach Attacks for April
Me: “Are you going toot-toot with your bottom?”
Zach: “No, it’s just gas.”
Ellie: “I had a bad dream.”
Me: “Really? What was it about?”
Ellie: “I don’t know because it didn’t come true.”
Zach, giggling while peeing on the floor: “Mom-my! My juice is coming out!”
Me: “Your friends cannot come over to play until your room is clean. Do you understand?”
Ellie: “I understand, Mom. I’ll just go to their house.”
Me: “Ellie, you need to go upstairs and get your clothes.”
Ellie: (laying her head sweetly in my lap) “Mommy, I have an idea! How ’bout I get my shoes and you get my clothes?”
Me: “Where are you shoes?”
Ellie: “Upstairs. We can go together!”
Me: “Okay.” (I run upstairs only to hear Isabel yelling from the bottom of the stairs …)
Ellie: “Mommy, you can get my shoes, too, if you want to.”
Me: “Zach, you wanna watch Strawberry Shortcake?”
Zach: “No! It’s too girly!”
Me: “How ’bout A Bug’s Life?”
Zach: “No, it’s too scary.”
Me: “Finding Nemo?”
Zach: “No, Mom. It’s too WET!”
Zach: “These shoes are too squeezy.”
Ellie: “I want a baby sister so I have someone to push around.” (I think she means in a stroller, but we’re not entirely sure!)
Zach: “Hey! I’m not crying any more! I think I’m happy now!”
Wordless Wed … er, Thursday.
“Oh, visit the earth, ask her to join the dance!
Deck her out in spring showers,
fill the God-River with living water.”
- Psalm 65:9 (The Message)
I’m not very good at being “wordless,” but these pictures don’t need much explanation. Sponsored by Wordless Wednesday. Even though it’s Thursday.
Becoming Disciplined
A while back I wrote a post of random thoughts. It started off talking about me being behind in projects and my love of online word games. My point was it’s okay to “waste time” sometimes because maybe you really need a rest. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the message that came across, as evidenced by the slew of emails offering tips on organization and self-discipline.
I’ve never thought of myself as undisciplined. I always follow the rules and get totally peeved at those who don’t. I can’t even play Memory with my 4-year-old because she wants to peek at more than two cards per turn. Or she steals my matches making it look like she won. Okay, maybe that’s bordering on a different neurosis. Digression. My point is I’ve never considered myself lacking rigidity. I prefer to say I’m flexible. I’m a free spirit.
But the more I thought about the perceptions others had of me, well, maybe their right. A little.
I do what I want to do when I want to do it. I will clean the toilet to procrastinate doing dishes. Not so much because I love scrubbing the can, but merely because I dispise from the very foundation of my being washing dishes. There’s no reason why. I just do. And so I don’t. That’s Rick’s job and has been since we got married. Stuff gets done, just not always as quickly as it could; or it’s all prioritized funky. I’ll pick out paint chips for the room we want to paint next month, but forget to call the doctor about the problem I have today.
Enter lists. Yup, folks, I’m attempting yet another goal, another change in my habits.
You see, I wasn’t always this way. Back when I was a working woman I lived by lists. I had lists for everything and I followed them religiously. If it wasn’t on a list, it was covered by multiple calendars and maybe a spreadsheet. When I carried these habits into motherhood for a while. I had charts of the infant Ellie’s play-time, tummy-time, eating habits, sleeping habits, even excrement patterns. I kept lists of questions for the pediatrician, books to read next, and milestones to watch for.
Eight months later we discovered (much to our surprise) Zach would be joining our family. Between being sick, setting up a second nursery and being forced on bedrest (again), I discovered life is completely out of my hands and beyond the scope of my spreadsheets. With two kids under 18 months of age, I couldn’t keep up with my rigid schedules. Perhaps I’ve boomeranged too far.
I’m trying again. Aren’t you excited?
Yesterday was my first day of lists. There were six items to complete before the day was out. By the middle of the afternoon, I’d only crossed off two of them. The only logical thing to do at that point was to add to the list things I had done, just do I could cross them off. I added impressive tasks like “take a shower” and “feed the children.” This made me feel a little better, more productive.
Today is Day 2. I have four things remaining from yesterday and six new items (4 of which should have been on yesterday’s list, but I forgot until this morning). Wish me luck!
Desiring God
When kids get sick, they get clingy. Cuddling is great, but I need it in moderation. I like my personal space.
As a mom, I don’t get much. I’ve come to terms with the fact I’ll never use the toilet alone and will seldom take a shower without playing Peek-a-boo at the same time. There will always be someone touching me while I eat (usually with her feet) and another someone trying to steal my bed at night. Even household chores are group projects. I understand this is just the way things are and I’m okay with that. But after days and nights of touching and hugging and clinging and crying and synchronized poop sessions, I need solitude.
Zach understands. He’s an introvert. He likes people, but being with them exhausts him. He needs alone time to re-energize.
I gain energy by being with other adults, but I quickly become drained if my only interaction is with people under three feet tall. After a long day like that, I need quiet to refuel.
And then there’s Ellie. The definitive extrovert, she like a leech feeding off the energy of other people. Take away her social life and she quickly shrivels into a weary fount of tears. She can’t stand being alone. It’s the worse possible punishment for her. It exhausts her and she hates it.
This is why she can’t understand my need. She can’t get enough of me. We’ve had almost two weeks with just me and the kids. You’d think she’d be sick of me, but she’s not. “Mommy, I want you. I miss you. Sit with me. Play with me.” As I stifled another groan from the depths of my I-DON’T-WANT-TO spot, today I recognized the virtue of her affections.
One day in the not too distant future, this daughter of mine will want nothing to do with me. She’ll be too cool to hang with her old lady, and I’ll be wishing for more quality time with her. But for now she’s a child and she adores me. She wants to be with me every second of every day. Why aren’t we more like that with God?
We’re told only those who become like a child will enter the kingdom of Heaven (Matthew 18:3). Children love being with their parents. Moms and dads are the most popular people in the world to a preschooler. So, why aren’t we seeking our Father with as much persistence, passion and enthusiasm?
When I’m on the phone, Isabel is one step behind me the entire time. Sometimes I’m just walking to walk and sometimes it’s an attempt to get away from the kids and actually hear the person on the phone. It doesn’t matter to Ellie. She will chase me, anything she needs to do to make sure she’s with me, walking in my footsteps. Are you chasing God? Are you desiring nothing more than to be in His shadow, walking in His steps? I hope so.
It’s a challenge for me, a source of sanctification and of praise. Isn’t it great God never turns us away because He needs quiet? How awesome that He never tires of spending time with us!
I’m not against a lot of things, but …
I’m not against plastic surgery.
Last summer Ellie split her chin open. I don’t know how many stitches she got (They kicked me out of the room before I could pass out.), but it was enough to leave a scar. We knew it at the time. The ER gave us the choice of seeing a plastic surgeon on the spot. We opted out, but we did agree, if the scar becomes problematic later in life, we’ll get it taken care of. We’ve also agreed to get her a nose job if her little button turns into the famous Burkitt beak.
Have you seen this? It’s a children’s book set for release this weekend in honor of Mother’s Day.
Written by a plastic surgeon, this book’s purpose is to help children understand a “mommy makeover,” the popular tummy-tuck and boob-job combo. Newsweek’s article explains its inception, author and potential market. (Don’t you love how the doctor depicts himself? He looks like Superman!)
I don’t have a problem with the book. Not necessarily. I understand this is a great way to explain to kids why mommy has bandages and needs time to recover. I don’t have a problem with the need for the book either. I understand why women want the surgery! My body was hijacked twice. After housing and sustaining other beings for two and a half years straight, it’s just not the same. I’m covered in stretchmarks, and my bosom has definitely seen higher points. I’m not complaining; it could be worse. (Yes, I saw the original episodes of John & Kate + 8!)
So, what’s my problem?
Last week our 7-year-old neighbor was over playing with Ellie. (This was part of the spring break fun.) The girls wanted a snack and, after a plethora of choices were offered, they decided on chips. Before I could dump a portion into each girl’s bowl, Johana stopped me. “Wait! What about the fat?” This first-grader snatched the bag and very carefully checked the fat content per serving — both saturated and unsaturated fats. Only then was it deemed “okay, as long as we don’t eat any cookies.”
I fear our focus, as a society, is highly skewed. Taking care of yourself is a good thing. We want to look good, but when all we do is altered by how we want to look, something is wrong.
I’m not against healthy living. (Obviously. Haven’t I written about Burger King more than once?) I’m actually thinking about getting a Pilate’s machine. (I say that as if I need to prove my health-consciousness.) And I’m not against teaching our kids good habits at a young age. There’s a reason I’m a SAHM – right? But do I really want my 4-year-old dissecting the ingredients of her snack for the sake of her waistline? Do I want her thinking she needs surgery to be beautiful?
The mom in this children’s book doesn’t just deal with what went wrong (the extra stretched-out skin); she also gets a nose job and breast implants. She explains to her inquisitive daughter: “[I'll be] more than different … I’ll be prettier!”
I’m against teaching our kids – especially our daughters – that their value is found in their appearance.
“Can Ellie change her clothes? She needs to be pretty to play with us.” My daughter is only four and she’s already hearing statements like this. She thinks she needs to wear make-up and high heels or she won’t have friends. And her worst fear: she’ll never find a man to marry her. She knows I don’t shower every day and I rarely wear makeup; I’m quite possibly the lowest-maintenance woman she knows, but still — these lessons of face value are what our society is teaching her.
“Your adornment must not be merely external … but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God.” – 1 Peter 3:3-4 (NAS)
I go out of my way to praise Ellie’s freckles and kiss her little chin scar. I love her big belly and her crazy, Afro hair. And I tell her so all the time. I remind her she is most beautiful when she’s kind and compassionate. What about you? How do you teach your kids to value inner beauty? What ways do you exemplify a love of imperfections?
I’m weak! Ain’t it great?
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NIV)
My last ten days have included:
- Isabel’s spring break: a nonstop carnival of neighborhood kids here, there and everywhere. (A frightening preview of summer vacation yet to come!)
- Two family birthdays and three celebrations.
- Zach contracted yet another ear infection: This is his 7th since birth, but his first “single” ever; all his other ear infections have been double.
- Rick got the flu.
- Our first full-blown allergy season with kids: We’ve all been struggling to breathe and poor Ellie’s eyes have been swollen shut three days running.
- And yesterday Isabel woke with the fever, sweats and chills her father had over the weekend.
I’ve decided God has a special health care plan for mothers. He keeps us healthy long enough to nurture and tend to all those under our care. I’m never sick while my kids are sick. The germs don’t attack me until after everyone else is well. Then, after a week or two of sleep deprivation, this body of mine is more than happy to stay in bed for a couple days. And everyone around me is grateful and happy to wait on me. It’s nice.
It’s never easy being sick. It’s even worse when you have things to do, be it going to work or caring for kids. But God’s grace is always sufficient. It’s enough. He offers the strength we lack to help us accomplish the plans He has for us. These may not always match our plans. I had a lot more on my to-do list than cuddling criers and wiping noses. But it’s always enough to fulfill HIS plans. And HIS plans detail exactly what we need to be doing.
Furthermore, we can rejoice in these moments. I’m weak! I’m sleep-deprived and frustrated and really wishing my kids would feel better. I’m tired of wrestling them to the ground every four to six hours to give them the medication they need. And I’m really sick of watching the same videos over and over again while they whine and cry spread their germs all over my bed. But these are the moments that remind me of my need for God. I am reminded how much patience and grace I lack. I am reminded of how much patience and grace He has and continually bestows on me. I’m weak and filled with faults, but it’s a wonderful thing. In my weakness He is exalted because without His strength and His grace, I would not last the day. If my kids did last the day, they would certainly need therapy to deal with the damage I had caused. So, praise God! Praise God I’m not alone and my kids don’t need therapy (yet) and we will all survive the day … thanks to HIS grace and HIS strength.
