My children, at ages 2 and 3, have decided they are finished taking naps.
 
   I love blogging about topics like these because I feel like a plethora of napping wisdom and advice will coming flowing into the comment section after doing so (she says hopefully).

  I well remember a short time ago when both of my girls were consistently taking 2-3 hours naps DAILY and I would hear the woes and complaints of other mothers of nap-striking children and I just didn't get it.  Just MAKE them take a nap!  It can't be that hard!

Oh but was I in for a surprise.

  Turns out, you can't make children nap.  Nope.  You can do everything you need to do, (stories, milk, dim lighting, whatever) and they can still lay there wide awake babbling and talking to themselves for hours.  Hours!

   And believe me, I've tried the whole "quiet time" thing too.  But it seems it's never long enough, or even remotely restful enough for me to be hardly worth the trouble it takes to supervise.

   And so as you could imagine, right on cue with their recent nap aversion, enters my blog aversion.  I never really realized how DIRECTLY correlated my computer time was with nap time.  It's kind of like, during nap time or never.  And so no naps = no computer time.  Which = keeping up with online things MUCH less.  Which = to be feeling like I'm always falling behind and disappointing someone, or myself.  Which is a pretty crummy feeling.

   And no time to myself (or just blessed SILENCE) during the day = lack of desire to even talk on the phone, or do anything, really.  I feel like I never return any phone calls, or go many places, and I even put off grocery shopping until we're practically destitute before forcing myself out there.

  Basically, nap time was the key to my existence.  And now that I don't have it, I feel like I'm stumbling around all over again like the first few weeks with a brand new baby trying to figure out how to "re-enter" the world and dwell in this hemisphere of life in a somewhat normal way.

Ug.

   So last week, to help pass along the never-ending day, we decided to go to the library and swing by the thrift store in town, both of which were CLOSED.  Epic fail.  So we swung by the coffee shop and used our stamp card to score a free chai latte and headed to the park so as to not count the trip a complete failure.

  And so once again, I'm sorry for the quiet around here lately, but sometimes this little place online sort of gets whatever is leftover, ya know?

And sometimes that's just not very much at all.

It's happened.

   Randy and I are officially those cheesy parents who sit on the couch after the kids are in bed and grin stupidly at each other and start in with all of the "Can you believe what Jocelyn said today?  Oh that was just the cutest thing ever."

   "Oh I know, and when Charlotte just came running to you, exclaiming 'It's a big one!' about her poop? I just can't get enough of that."

   And we recount the funny tales of the day, the dinnertime conversations, the great achievements and the priceless little quotes and we both can't get over how much we love them right now.  And I know, I know, it's all making you a bit squeamish right now and kind of want to scratch out your eyeballs a little, but too bad, because it's TRUE.

   We are just loving the stages of their lives right now.  Every single bit of it.  Now, does that mean that every day is perfect?  Flawless?  Without bad behavior or discipline?  Obviously not.  That would be pretty silly to assume.

   It just means that we're grateful for all of it.  And yes, even for the not-so-wonderful parts, because we still GET TO BE THEIR PARENTS.  No one else gets that privilege.  They are ours.  OURS!  And I am just so thankful (now remind me of that tomorrow when the potty training one has an accident and the older one thinks she's the boss of everything).

   But for now, I'll go kiss their angelic sleeping faces and breathe in GRATITUDE that I get the honor of this role.  I get to be Mama to them.  For all my flaws and faults and trust me, there's many, I still am their one and only mama, and always will be.

What a generous, generous God we serve.

It was certainly, definitely, positively, "one of those days".

   Jocelyn flounces into my bed at the crack of dawn and announces that "There is a spider."  I fling off the covers and freak out to find....there is a spider.  But it is far away on the wall, close to the ceiling.  Crisis averted, sleep ruined.

   Then she didn't want to wear her dress.  They fought over the farm animals.  They wanted to watch a show.  They couldn't seem to figure out how to play, and seemed singularly focused on ruining my morning, and came pretty close to pulling it off.

   We scrambled to get ready to go out the door and to the park to meet a friend.  I set out the swimsuits.  They lost the swimsuits.  I fixed their hair.  They messed it up.  I put on shoes.  They took them off.

  And finally, when I'd just about had it, (and you know what I mean by "had it")...it got just a little bit worse.

   Whoever it was that said, "People are more important than things" had probably not just witnessed their two-year-old peeing/pooping onto their favorite rug.

   So then of course I spent the next 15 minutes when we should have been going out the door on my hands and knees, trying to scrub and clean and spray and completely remove the germs and the smell and the......wait a second, what is this water on the bathroom floor?  Is it water?  Is it pee?  And while I'm standing there contemplating the Great Liquid mystery, Jocelyn kicks a beach ball right at me, into the bathroom, splashing and bouncing through aforementioned Mystery Liquid and into my face.

I thought I'd had it before, but now I had truly, thoroughly HAD IT.

  I let out a strangled sort of screech/scream, (you know the kind) and felt my cool, calm collectedness just vanish in a vapor of steam.  I hollered at Jocelyn to remove herself and the ball from the premises, I ushered Charlotte out of the bathroom probably a little too hastily and I tried to keep myself from launching something through the bathroom window.

   Much later, when we were all still in one piece and in the car headed toward our destination, (although missing the hidden swimsuits) I passed a pile of roadkill that looked suspiciously like one of our chickens.  Great.  Just fantastic. (It turned out later to be a false alarm, thank goodness)

   Then we reached the park, but the girls didn't really feel like playing, because Jocelyn had a runny nose (which is the end of the world for her) and they were both feeling a little bit shy and clingish, and let's be honest, no one's in a good mood after that kind of a morning.

   So my friend and I tried to talk, and our kids tried to play, but Jocelyn was drinking her coffee (not her coffee, HER coffee.  My friend's. Grrrr.)  and my girls were whining for lunch and it wasn't even 11:00 am yet.

This is always the point in time where I wonder incredulously why I ever even leave my house at all.

   So we proceed down to the river to swim, which of course they have no swim stuff for because they LIKE TO HIDE THINGS.  So I just let Jocelyn wear her dress (white, of course) and Charlotte wear nothing but her diaper.  Neither are too happy about the situation.

   They complain about the tomatoes in the wraps.  (they LOVE tomatoes)  The sun is in their eyes.  The rocks are hot to walk on.  The water is cold.  On and on it went.

   In spite of it all, we actually managed (miraculously) to have a really, wonderful conversation and left feeling very uplifted, and very encouraged.  I am so grateful for friends I can be real with.  I can be vulnerable with, I can share with, I can identify with, and I can walk through the trenches with.  Thank-you Jesus.

   Before we parted ways she gave me a LOVELY gift, and I gave her a loaf of homemade bread. Which would be a great idea except for the fact that she is eating gluten-free.  *smacks forehead*  How could I forget that?!

   I was all too eager to see that day come to an end.  But before the day was over, and the goodnights were said, I snapped the picture above and posted it to Instagram with this caption:

  "Today was definitely 'one of those days'. It was hard. Bone hard. Leaving me drained and empty at the end. I met a friend at the park and those moments spent together sharing about our lives and being real and vulnerable about our struggles were glorious. But it seemed on every other front, my day was dead-set against me. I feel so often lately like I am completely failing as a mother. I lose my patience, I show my frustration, and I flail wildly in the dark for wisdom. Help me Jesus! I need you to help me be the mother they deserve. And when it's all said and done, help me remember this day, not as the day that I was at my wits end with Jocelyn, but as the day that the light caught her hair and shone golden as she, clad in princess dress and rain boots, tried her best to help her daddy clean up outside."

And it was in that moment that I knew.  

   I knew that in 10 years from now I wouldn't remember any of the runny noses, lost swimsuits, whining and frustrations.  I wouldn't remember the spoiled plans, melt-downs, or the bone-dry exhaustion at the end of the day.  

I would simply remember being their mama, and I would be grateful for ALL of it. 

I was so unprepared for this part of mothering.

   I knew it would feel like you were trying to pull your bottom lip up over your head to give birth, and it did.  I knew I would get sappy and sentimental the first time I heard my baby laugh or say my name, and I did. I knew that discipline and consistency would be my greatest weaknesses in parenting, and they are.  I knew I would want a break from my children, and then miss them like crazy when I was gone, and I do.

But what I didn't know, was how utterly painful it would be for me, to fail.

   Whenever I lose my patience, raise my voice, and cause those little tears to fall, I crumple into a pile of self-loathing and feel like there is no way out.




The trouble with raising children is that they are not adults yet.

   They don't understand "I'm tired" or "I'm just really frustrated right now" or "Mama needs a break".  They only understand that you are Mama, and you are supposed to be cheerful and patient and loving.....always.

   You are the hands that hold them, comfort them, and soothe all their sorrows away, and so you aren't really allowed to have an "off day".  You are supposed to kiss away their tears, not cry ones of your own.  You are there to rock them when they are tired, sing them to sleep, and tuck them into bed.....not lie down yourself and shut out the world because you are just too exhausted to function.

And perhaps most difficult of all is coming to the realization that they have no concept of grace.

   They don't realize that mommies make mistakes, that mommies need second chances like anybody else, that mommies need forgiveness and time to grow and to learn and FOR GOODNESS SAKES A HEAPING, SKY-HIGH PILE OF GRACE.





   Children are too little to realize that as young and new as they are to this world.......that is how young and new their Mama is to mothering.  

   If we were all adults, it would be so easy to order pizza and pile on the couch and paint each other's toenails and laugh about how flawed their Mama is.  We would discuss my shortcomings and I would ask for forgiveness, and after agreeing that I certainly need a whole lot of grace, they would give it to me.

At least I hope that they would.

   But for now, here, in this moment and in this time of their lives, they don't realize any of that.  They just see me, their Mama, as Someone who lives somewhere above grace.  I don't need it because, well....I shouldn't need it.  I am perfect.  I make no mistakes.  I have all of the answers.  I am sweet and loving and kind and gentle because....well, I birthed them.  I nursed them.  I swaddled them.  What else could I possibly be?

   And the first time the curtain is pulled back and the real Wizard of Oz is revealed, I always want to shrivel up in a hole and hide away from the world until I am infallible in their eyes again.  It hurts when they realize that a mere human has been playing this Mighty Role all along.

Oh, it hurts.

   It hurts when I see it in their eyes.....the profound disappointment of the realization that I can be wrong.  I can make a mistake.  I can raise my voice when I should have just quietly instructed.  I can lunge and lurch when I should calmly direct.  I can glare and scowl when I should take a moment to just get off of the phone and address the issue quietly.

The list goes on and on and on.



 
   I feel like the day I gave birth back in 2010 I was officially the World's Greatest Mom.  And then each day since then, I've discovered a little more and more how I'm really just not.  I'm just a human. A flawed, fallen, pitiful, desperate, insecure, sinful human.  And all the while I'm wrestling this blasted humanity I am trying to be everything that they deserve.  And I fall short SO many times.

   And so it is that we Mamas of little ones, all the while fighting our own demons and needing grace more than ever before, have to somehow live in spite of it.  But without ANY grace. God gives us grace.  He lavishes it.  And our husbands give us grace, thank goodness.  But for now, our children aren't going to give us grace. And that's o.k.

   That's o.k. because it gives me a teeny, tiny sliver of a glimpse of what God goes through with us.  Giving and giving and feeling like it is mostly a one-way avenue of grace.  He gives us grace, and we soak it up and curse and complain and thrash around in our humanity.

   And so I will choose to be patient one more day.  And the day after that, and the day after that.  And it is hard.  It is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.   But if Jesus walked the road to that cross, than certainly I can learn a little patience.

At least I like to think that I can. 

 

   O.k. I lied.  ONE more Hawaiian post because I totally forgot to even address the teensy tinsy topic of leaving your kids behind.  *Gasp*

   I know that for some of you, reading that first line is reason enough to raise your hackles and make your reach for your pitchforks......while for others of you, that first line makes you want to pat me on the back and say, "You go, mama!"

   I wish I could look across to the other side of this screen and decipher which one you are.....but alas, I cannot, and so I will just carry on with my one-sided conversation, and hopefully you will share some of your thoughts in the comment section.  I'd love to hear them.

   First things first, don't be fooled.  Just because I leave my kids to go on trips with my husband, doesn't mean that it's EASY for me.

   I thought about them every day in Hawaii.  I would stop and think to myself,  right in the middle of another perfect day, "Oh they would just love this so much!"  and ache for them to be there.  I would resist the urge to hug stranger's children.   I tried to keep my texts/calls home to a minimum but I wanted to know how they were doing ALL THE TIME.  Before we left I wrapped up little gifts for them to open each day, with messages written on the paper about how much we loved and missed them.......I knew they would be having a non-stop party with their Grandma, but that didn't mean I wouldn't miss them like crazy.

And I did.


   And once again, I know that for some of you, these feelings would not be signs of healthy attachment to my children, but they would be symptoms of guilt.  Proof somehow, that I was doing something wrong.  That I had made the wrong choice.

   On the 4th when we were waiting for the fireworks to begin, we were sitting on the lawn next to a young couple with two sweet little girls.  I couldn't help myself and commented on them, saying I was missing mine back at home.  The mother replied, "Oh yes, I suppose the fireworks might be a little scary for little ones."  And I said, "Oh, actually I meant back HOME home, like, back in Oregon."  To which she seemed surprised and replied, "Oh.....I don't think I could ever do that."

*crickets*

   It was so awkward.  We'd met like, 7 seconds ago and were exchanging smiles and hi-how-are-yous and judgment.  Which I suppose is o.k.....it IS a free country and all (hence the fireworks)  but I guess I would just be way too intimidated to pass out parenting advice to someone after having met them, oh I don't know, 7 seconds ago?!  And you know, it wasn't even the fact that she disagreed with me.  Because that's OK. Really it is.  I know lots and lots of women that disagree with what I did and would never leave their children to go on a trip to Hawaii with their husband.  And that's o.k.

But it's OK for me to do it, too.

   And since when did we decide that if we have a particular stance on a issue, it then needs to become upheld by everyone else?  This applies to soooooo many things when it comes to motherhood I could literally lose track counting.

Vaccinations
Schooling options
Breastfeeding
Natural childbirth
Spanking
Working moms
Safety
Food
Scheduling

   And about a million other things.  Why can't we just all help one another out and encourage each other when we're feeling down and look out for one another?  Why don't we choose to raise our pitchforks when we see abused or abandoned or aborted children, and put them down when we see amazing women all around us sincerely trying their very hardest to be the best wife/mother they can be?  Why don't we love a little more, and judge a little less?

   I know this, because I used to be more of a pitchfork-waving mom.  Certain topics would only have to be whispered about and I would feel my blood start to boil and it would be all I could do to keep from launching into battle. I like to think that I have come a long way from that mom today.  I like to think that I extend grace a little more often.  Or at least I really, truly try to.

   So why do I leave my kids?  Because my husband and I became a family on the day we exchanged vows.....NOT on the day that I saw those two pink little lines on that pregnancy test.  We were ALREADY a family.  Children joined our family, but they didn't make us a family.  If children had made us a family, then our family would disappear on the day that our children are grown and out of the house.  And sadly, in our culture today, that happens way too often.

   It is JUST AS IMPORTANT  to take time for your "original family" as it is to take time for your "growing family".  Taking time as a couple to reconnect, focus on one another and invest in one another is priceless.  And for some reason, it has gotten a pretty bad rep.  It has been titled "neglect" and "selfishness" and lots of other ugly things, just because you are temporarily leaving your children to devote your time and energy and attention to the foundation of your marriage, and the foundation of your family.  

   But even as important as I believe it to be to have alone time together as a couple, I need to extend grace to couples who choose not to do that.  And I will try.  But the road runs both ways, sister, and so you also need to extend grace to the couples who choose differently.

I love my kids.

   I'll shout it from the mountaintops, I'll proclaim it across the seas.  I love my kids so much.  TOO much, to let them become the utmost and topmost priority in my life, shutting out all others.  Too much to let them replace my husband.  Since I love them so much, I will try to love my husband even more. Because what they need to know and see and hear more than anything else, is that Jesus loves them, Daddy loves Mama, and Mama loves Daddy.

That is what they need to know.

   And they need to know it, not in a vague, theoretical way, but they need to KNOW it.  Deep down to the core of their being they need to feel it in their gut, without ever even being taught, that their parents love each other, and will never leave each other.

Nothing will give them greater security.
Nothing will bring them more peace.
Nothing will make them feel more loved.

   And so yes, I love my kids, and I leave my kids.  I promise them that I will come back, and I do. And NOTHING beats the feeling of that heart-in-your-throat, salty-teared moment when they run into your arms again.

    Believe me, I cherish our times all together as a family more and more each passing day (like our camping trip this past weekend).  But I have found that in our times alone as a couple, we acquire a deeper connection and understanding and knowledge of one another, that can't just be "picked up" when the kids are out of the house one day.  It is cultivated, nurtured and grown, just like children are.

   And you're right....children grow like weeds and I don't want to miss a single moment of it!!  But neither do I want to neglect the growth of my marriage until we find ourselves many years later,  mere strangers in an empty house.

   And so, my dear warrior-mamas everywhere, let's put down the pitchforks, and give a little grace today.

Pssst hey kids…...
   All the while you've been thinking about how much fun playdates are?  Turns out that moms have even more fun at them.  So the joke's on you.


   A small group of us has been meeting for regular play dates for over a year now, and yesterday it was my turn to host.  The group has been growing as we have been adding children to our families and inviting new people, and I always wish I could invite a whole lot more, but my poor little home can only hold so many.  When the weather gets nicer hopefully we can meet at the park a few times and then it will be easier to invite more people.  I always leave feeling so encouraged and refreshed and recharged.  I feel so blessed and privileged to be traveling this journey of motherhood with my friends and peers.  We're not meant to do it all alone!

  This last time I got my camera out, and not sure what is going on but almost every one seemed a little fuzzy to me??!  Arrrrrgh so annoying.  I'll work on that.

There are many things that the culture we live in, tries to tell us.  Here are a few:

1. If you've got it, flaunt it.
2. "Less is more" only applies to clothing.
3. Seduction is power.
4. Revealing is appealing.
5. Submission is objectifying, degrading and humiliating.
6. Respect is overrated.
7. Obedience is naieve.
8. Belief is subjective.
9. Nothing is absolute.
10. Darkness is light.
11. The only un-changing truth is that there are no un-changing truths.
12. Look out for yourself first.
13. Pursue happiness, wealth, sex and success at the expense of others.
14. Trust no one.
15. Break the rules.
16. Tolerance means agreement.
17. Do whatever feels good.
18. Promises aren't necessarily meant to be kept.
19. Temptation is meant to give in to.
20. If you want it, make it yours.
21. It's only a little white lie.
22. If you don't get caught, it's o.k.
23. Money can buy you happiness.
24. Follow your heart.
25. Love never lasts.

   And to be honest, wading upstream in a culture of self-centeredness can be overwhelming for any one person, but for parents?  It's nearly defeating.

   I think of my two precious daughters and I wilt.  Two fresh, new, young souls that are observing and learning and absorbing and mimicking at the speed of life, and soaking up everything around them like a thirsty sponge plunged underneath the water.  I can't remove them from our culture.  I have seen people try to do that, and it usually does more damage than good, in my opinion.

   No, we're here, and we're here for better or for worse.  We're a part of this world, and though it be a dark place, I only hope that they will choose to be a shining light.  But it's scary.  Terrifying, really, to raise daughters in a culture that tells them that morals and values are demeaning and laughable.  It's scary raising children in a culture that tells them that being tolerant and truly loving their neighbor really just means to agree with/condone everything, whether you believe it or not.

   Sometimes I'm not sure I know how to approach it all.  I do not believe in the tactic of removing my family completely from culture, from the world and the environment in which we live, and sequestering them in an isolated, protected space.  Neither do I believe it is safe or wise to plunge my family knee-deep into culture, soaking up bits and pieces of all that is has to offer as a form of nutrition as they grow and thrive.
Phillipians 4:8Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. 

   How then, shall we do that, hmmm?  HOW, in the world in which we live today do you "think on these things"?  At times, it seems almost an insurmountable task.  I mean, basically every influencing force around us shouting something quite different.  As I raise my children and try to instill in them my beliefs and values,  I will be criticized for not giving them the "freedom of choice".  But at the very same time, the culture around me is trying their hardest to instill THEIR values and beliefs into my children.

   Why the double-standard?  Why is it o.k. for the culture to teach their values, but not for me to teach mine?  Why is it ok to be offended sometimes, like when everyone was offended by Miley Cyrus at the VMAs, but not other times, like when no one was allowed to be offended by the Grammys this year?