Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Tip of the day: pray in the bathroom.
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Mother's Day Peace
I have been very blessed to have found many here including Eily (pseudonym).
A stay at home mom of three boys. When I first met her they were all under the age of 3. She reminds me of many of the hero women of the Bible who rise above stereotypes to do what they were called. Life has been tough for her family but she is constantly giving testimony towards what God is doing.
Recently they have had to move in with Her inlaws. This seemed like a toxic situation. We have been praying for some time that there would be an other option but none came through. So they packed up and moved. About a week later I got a phone call from her.
We had discussed creating this blog previously. On the phone Eily told me something like "I didn't have time to write anything but I have answered prayer."
I am going to prerequisite this by clarifying that my friend is one of the cleanest people I know. When she is stressed she cleans and when she isn't stressed she still has her boys clean up at night (or so I am told by her husband.) When not packing, she aims to feed her family healthy meals and they come to church dressed in cute button up shirts and kaki pants.
So on the phone the other day she had this to say....She told me excitedly example after example about how she had peace in what would normally be anxiety causing situations. She wasn't calling her husband crying about the second hand smoke her children were getting from his mother. Instead she was able to have peace that God would take care of them. She wasn't trying to change his mother's cleaning habits either. She had been able to see past her "OCD" tendencies and focus on having a peace filled relationship with her mother in law, her boys and husband. And she is seeing positive results.
I don't don't about you, but I saw this as a big answer to prayer. I know of many times in my life where when I felt like I was losing control and so just held on tighter to what I felt needed to happen. I chose to be Martha instead of Mary.
My prayer is that the testimony of Eily blesses you on this Mother's Day. That you will be able to rest in your relationship with the Father and your family and let the rest of life's cares go. I love you.
Friday, May 8, 2015
Three tinies, Tiny space, Big Love
Chicago is a hard core place to live for some of us GRITS (Girls Raised In The South). But this Southern Belle brought all her charm with her and created a tiny home with a large heart right smack of the middle of the Windy City.
I met Courtney shortly after they began their family. She was soft spoken and grounded. I am niether, so I felt I had a lot to learn from her. I was pregnant and looked to her for registry help, planning the tiny nursery and just plain encouragement when I felt overwhelmed by everything that was going on in my life (if you are curious go to my original blog posts here)
I hope you are just as much blessed by her story. Especially if you are starting to have tinies in A tiny space.
As I write this my youngest daughter, Savannah, is napping in our room in a pack-and-play that we transfer to our play area each night. My middle daughter, Caroline, is taking a rest in her room, and my oldest, Jack, is at school. When we moved into our two-bedroom apartment five years ago, I never imagined having three kids in this apartment! At that time, Jack was just six months old. He’s now five-and-a-half years old. Caroline just turned four and our “baby” is 18 months. Time flies.
While there are so many days that I wish for more space and a backyard, I can’t negate the fact that this little apartment (that felt so huge when we moved in five years ago) has birthed this little family and knit us together. Sleeping arrangements have been tricky, but we slowly figured it out. Jack was our best sleeper and transitioned out of our room early on. I can’t remember transitioning Caroline out of our room, but I remember her crib next to Jack’s single bed. When Savannah arrived, we got my husband’s childhood bunkbeds and squeezed them in with the crib. We added a few more shelves to the closet and we were ready for number three.
Now each night my husband and I can hear Jack and Caroline talking back and forth in their bunk beds. Their room is about 20 feet from our den and their little conversations are priceless. Savannah spent a year sleeping in our room until we finally moved her to a little play area in the back. The kids named this area “the back and play” because of all the times we told them to go to the back and play. Savannah’s crib is in the kids’ room, but her transition to the kids’ room didn’t go so well, so it currently holds all of Caroline’s dolls. Savannah rotates between the back-and-play for bedtime and our room for naptime. It works for now.
We have made the most of what our apartment has to offer. The back-and-play is a little space, but it’s a great space forstoring all of the kids’ stuff and is the perfect place for train-track building, Lego creations, and tea parties. We also have a long hallway where our kids have logged miles on their scooter, scoot, tricycle, and “Pooh-bear” train. They just have to do so after 9am so they don’t wake the neighbors below. We have a mini trampoline in our den and that works wonders for getting energy out. My husband lets the kids wear his heart rate monitor as they sprint up and down the hall. They get a kick out of how high their heart rate gets.
Winters are tricky, especially in negative-degree temperatures. Screen-time calls their names and tempts me but I have found that if I say “no” and give them a few minutes to be bored, their little imaginations are sparked and off they go finding something to do. The china cabinet drawers are filled with crafts supplies and they both love to draw. Sometimes I give them mandatory “quiet times” to go off by themselves and do a puzzle, build legos or train tracks. It takes some creativity, but they come up with a lot themselves! But screen-time certainly has a place in our family, usually as I prepare dinner.
I also love to get out of the house! We venture out no matter the temperature. In the winter we visit museums, coffee shops, and indoor play areas. In the summer we go to different parks, the zoo and the lake. Chicago has so much to offer.
We have been talking about moving and finding a bigger place. It’s bittersweet. I do look forward to more space and a backyard, but the memories we have formed here are so precious. When we told the kids that they might get their own rooms in our next place, they got sad and didn’t want to be separated. So we will see what comes next, but I do know that having the five of us in a two-bedroom apartment has grown us so close, and I can’t be more thankful for that!
Courtney is a Stay at Home mom, Homemaker and Nutritionist
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Parenting Paranoia
Rachel and my husband have an interesting connection. They are both married to missionary kids. When one is married to a missionary kid she often has to do strange things. Having said that she is trying to plan a trip that most American parents would not even dream of doing. She is taking her toddler to Southern Africa for VACATION.
Out of curiosity I just googled "percentage of United States toddlers who travel outside of the US" and came across and article (here) that said that less than 3% of US citizens travel to the continent of Africa every year. I imagine it is a much smaller number of toddlers.
Having taken our Owlet just last year to the same place, I have been able to sympathize with the "crazy" right now.
Yet Rachel has a uncanny ability to turn tough to funny and say what everyone is thinking. So I invited her to relay her thoughts on being a mother.
But as my dear sister relates, here in the US, we encounter a different experience
Parenting Paranoia
Worrying and parenting go hand-in-hand. Mothers worry about their babies going off to kindergarten, worry about if they will get into the best colleges, about who their future spouse will be (all this before the second trimester, most likely). Mothers can (and will) worry about anything, and nothing has made worrying more convenient than the internet.
You see, the internet allows us to take all of our silly little worries, type them into a search engine, and see 1,569,342 results of other mothers worried about the same things, doctors and quacks with all the answers, and a million other things completely unrelated to what we really wanted to know. When we begin to read the results, more often than not we end up with more worries than when we began.
Perhaps, when you were trying to get pregnant, you spent every evening scouring the internet, reading articles with titles such as, “15 ways your home is making you infertile,” or “This is why you can’t get pregnant.” Then, you’d spend your “two week wait” searching for signs of pregnancy (all these pimples must mean I’m pregnant! Is my hatred of broccoli a new found food aversion, or is it just gross?)
When you were pregnant, every hiccup, flutter and kick can send you into dizzying heights of ecstasy, or depths of despair. Your body, which had previously belonged to you and you alone, was now inhabited by a stranger who depended on you for life itself. And you would gladly give up anything to keep them safe. At first, you’d worry about morning sickness, and how to control that. Or if, perhaps, you weren’t sick enough, because you’d read that morning sickness meant the baby was healthy. Later, you’d worry if your baby wasn’t kicking yet, or if it wasn’t kicking enough. You’d worry if you were eating enough, or if a donut in each hand counted as a balanced meal (it does). You’d worry that the pain in your side was not from your muscles straining to contain the life inside you, but instead from premature labor.
You worried about labor, and how you’d handle the pain. Much later, you worried that your child would never vacate your uterus, and you’d be forced to carry him into adulthood. You read articles about “ideal” births, and you would worry about the insane amount of pain you would (hopefully) live through. Then you worried you were somehow less of a woman because you realized you would gladly trade your husband if that’s what it took to get an epidural.
When you brought home your precious newborn, you stayed up all night hanging over the crib just to check if baby was still breathing. You’d read horrifying stories of SIDS and worry that if you took your eyes off him for just one second, he’d be taken from you forever. You’d worry that he was not getting enough milk, that he was pooping too much or too little, that he wasn’t gaining enough weight, or that he was gaining too quickly.
As your precious child grew, you’d hear that your cousin’s child was rolling over already, and she was a month younger than your baby. You’d worry that your child would never develop. You’d wonder when to start solids, and worry that starting too early or too late would cause fatal allergies.
When your baby became a toddler, you worried about him running into the street. You worried that he’ll never start talking, but when he does start you’re worried he’ll never stop. You worry he’ll fall off the slide at the park (he does). You worry he has a concussion (he doesn’t). Is he teething, or is he being a pain in the butt or no reason? Are you a terrible person for thinking your perfect angelic child is a pain in the butt?
Answers to all of these fears can be found quickly online, along with a thousand more, and a generous helping of mommy guilt besides. As nice as it is to have immediate access to tips on what to do when your child has a fever, I wonder if it wouldn’t be better to do away with the parenting books and mommy blogs and pediatrician message boards altogether. It must have been easier to be a parent before moving was more common than staying still. Before technology, your birthplace would likely stay your hometown throughout your life, and you would have a ready-made network of support when you took the plunge into parenting.
You see, when you know all the answers to every problem, you’ll end up feeling that either there is something wrong with you or something wrong with your child (or maybe both). Every child is different, and no fake-perfect mom on the internet can provide the perfect solution for you. I suggest that far more than answers, what w need is a network of support, not a virtual network of judgment. If you’re not in the throes of new-parenthood, it would mean the world to a mom if you’d reach out and help create this network around her. Because heaven knows, moms have enough to worry about without worrying about networking.
Her following plea strangely led my brain to remember a village I visited in Southern India when I was 18. They were some of the poorest people I have met. Most did not wear shoes. They all met in a tiny grass hut in the middle of rice paddies for church. If they had shoes, they left them at the door before entering as a sign of worship. They only had God and each other and yet they had some of the broadest smiles you will ever see. I am sure they had plenty of cares and stress, but in that moment they seemed enraptured to be able to be where they were.
But as my dear sister relates, here in the US, we encounter a different experience
Worrying and parenting go hand-in-hand. Mothers worry about their babies going off to kindergarten, worry about if they will get into the best colleges, about who their future spouse will be (all this before the second trimester, most likely). Mothers can (and will) worry about anything, and nothing has made worrying more convenient than the internet.
You see, the internet allows us to take all of our silly little worries, type them into a search engine, and see 1,569,342 results of other mothers worried about the same things, doctors and quacks with all the answers, and a million other things completely unrelated to what we really wanted to know. When we begin to read the results, more often than not we end up with more worries than when we began.
Perhaps, when you were trying to get pregnant, you spent every evening scouring the internet, reading articles with titles such as, “15 ways your home is making you infertile,” or “This is why you can’t get pregnant.” Then, you’d spend your “two week wait” searching for signs of pregnancy (all these pimples must mean I’m pregnant! Is my hatred of broccoli a new found food aversion, or is it just gross?)
When you were pregnant, every hiccup, flutter and kick can send you into dizzying heights of ecstasy, or depths of despair. Your body, which had previously belonged to you and you alone, was now inhabited by a stranger who depended on you for life itself. And you would gladly give up anything to keep them safe. At first, you’d worry about morning sickness, and how to control that. Or if, perhaps, you weren’t sick enough, because you’d read that morning sickness meant the baby was healthy. Later, you’d worry if your baby wasn’t kicking yet, or if it wasn’t kicking enough. You’d worry if you were eating enough, or if a donut in each hand counted as a balanced meal (it does). You’d worry that the pain in your side was not from your muscles straining to contain the life inside you, but instead from premature labor.
You worried about labor, and how you’d handle the pain. Much later, you worried that your child would never vacate your uterus, and you’d be forced to carry him into adulthood. You read articles about “ideal” births, and you would worry about the insane amount of pain you would (hopefully) live through. Then you worried you were somehow less of a woman because you realized you would gladly trade your husband if that’s what it took to get an epidural.
When you brought home your precious newborn, you stayed up all night hanging over the crib just to check if baby was still breathing. You’d read horrifying stories of SIDS and worry that if you took your eyes off him for just one second, he’d be taken from you forever. You’d worry that he was not getting enough milk, that he was pooping too much or too little, that he wasn’t gaining enough weight, or that he was gaining too quickly.
As your precious child grew, you’d hear that your cousin’s child was rolling over already, and she was a month younger than your baby. You’d worry that your child would never develop. You’d wonder when to start solids, and worry that starting too early or too late would cause fatal allergies.
When your baby became a toddler, you worried about him running into the street. You worried that he’ll never start talking, but when he does start you’re worried he’ll never stop. You worry he’ll fall off the slide at the park (he does). You worry he has a concussion (he doesn’t). Is he teething, or is he being a pain in the butt or no reason? Are you a terrible person for thinking your perfect angelic child is a pain in the butt?
Answers to all of these fears can be found quickly online, along with a thousand more, and a generous helping of mommy guilt besides. As nice as it is to have immediate access to tips on what to do when your child has a fever, I wonder if it wouldn’t be better to do away with the parenting books and mommy blogs and pediatrician message boards altogether. It must have been easier to be a parent before moving was more common than staying still. Before technology, your birthplace would likely stay your hometown throughout your life, and you would have a ready-made network of support when you took the plunge into parenting.
You see, when you know all the answers to every problem, you’ll end up feeling that either there is something wrong with you or something wrong with your child (or maybe both). Every child is different, and no fake-perfect mom on the internet can provide the perfect solution for you. I suggest that far more than answers, what w need is a network of support, not a virtual network of judgment. If you’re not in the throes of new-parenthood, it would mean the world to a mom if you’d reach out and help create this network around her. Because heaven knows, moms have enough to worry about without worrying about networking.
Rachel works from home as a graphic designer wile taking care of her home, husband and little man.
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Keeping a Joy Filled Home
Netsie is one of the most joy filled people I met while in college. Looking back I truly wish I had spent more time with her because she was always bouncing around the halls with her catchy smile and bubbly laugh despite being a part of the rigorous requirements for the nursing major.
She had a similar pregnancy to mine which means it was difficult. On top of that she works full time. Wow.
She had a similar pregnancy to mine which means it was difficult. On top of that she works full time. Wow.
I personally feel that I struggle in the joy department and can deflate quite easily. So when I was considering topics for mothers day I knew that I wanted to learn from someone else on this topic.
Netsie, a very modest soul, at first did not think she could pull off a blog. But as you'll see, I think she did quite well in sharing her heart.
As a pre-requisite to her writing, we had a little dialogue and I also wanted to share a bit from there before diving in.
What struck me was that she spoke so well of her husband. Often I believe we as women feel that our joy depends on our husbands. Does it? I mean "Does it really?" Tricky question for many I am sure.
The other comment she made had to do with communicating her needs to her husband in a way that was clear but not nagging or manipulative. Huh. She called her relationship "open" and I giggled. There are two meanings to that title, but it is my belief that the honesty in love approach does help to create a better relationship and therefore a more joy-filled relationship.
And isn't that what we as mothers truly hope for? A joy-filled relationship with our spouses and children? Where can we find this end of the rainbow outlook?
I realize some of my readers are not married. I hope that you still are able to glean from the story Nestie shares. And for mothers without husbands, who have a special task ahead of them, I hope to post another blog.
Greetings to all who enjoy hearing from Heidi!
Let me introduce myself. My name is Netsie, I was an MK (missionary kid) for a year before starting college, and I currently live in central WA with a 26 mo old, an 11 mo old, and a third due the end of July. I work full-time as a night shift nurse at the local hospital and am married to a wonderful man who is an amazing father to our children. Heidi contacted me recently with the compliment that “you are an amazing mom and being pregnant, would you want to share some tips on keeping a joy-filled home when you have two tinies and one on the way?”
I was surprised (“shocked” would probably be more accurate), and flattered, naturally, but also felt I was probably one of the last people to give any sort of life advice! After all, I’m not the amazing one, my husband is, he’s the one that takes care of the kids most of the time, I’m gone nearly half the time to work. I am not a shining Christian example that has anything godly to say like "I make sure I prioritize my time with God and do X, Y, and Z throughout the day." or even have tricks to keeping one's mind focused on Him, because I'm not good at that at all myself!
I despair over being truly proficient in the kitchen.
Our apartment tends to be messy more often than not. (It's a good thing there's no one to stop by unexpectedly to see it....though, at times, that can be depressing, too, because friends that aren't hundreds or thousands of miles away would be really nice sometimes.)
Plus, our life is completely not what I had planned or imagined, in many aspects.
But I can honestly say I am happy and we as a family are happy. I have been blessed with an amazing husband and wonderful kids. But even when I knew I had a good husband and that kids were a blessing, it didn’t always feel that way and rather than feeling happy, I generally felt an undercurrent of dissatisfaction or frustration in life. It has certainly been a process!
Our life together did not start out as planned. Two weeks before the wedding, my then-fiancé broke his foot, requiring surgery to fix it, and in the years since he has never been pain-free. It has limited a lot of what he can do and a lot of what we had talked about and dreamed about doing together. I found it frustrating that we couldn’t go on those walks and hikes we had planned, especially as hiking has been a big part of my life since childhood. We got pregnant sooner than we had wanted or planned and I had a miserable pregnancy, being sick for almost the full 9 months. He’s currently the stay-at-home dad while I work full-time, which is not what either of us wanted or expected. (Not that I am saying there’s anything wrong with such an arrangement, but it’s not what we had wanted or planned on.) With little ones, the apartment seemed to fall further and further into disarray, tasks continually piling up. Disappointments and frustrations piled up.
But I have slowly learned to be content in whatever situation we find ourselves. And that contentment has led to joy.
This contentment has stemmed from the practice of thankfulness on a regular, if not daily, basis. Philippians 4:6-7 says to “be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” This has been my go-to verse in almost any situation, but there are many verses that encourage the practice of thankfulness. I Thessalonians 5:18 reminds us that we should “in everything, give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” Colossians 3:15 “And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful.”
Thankfulness is not something that just happens or that you simply feel when something good comes along, it is a daily discipline that needs to be practiced and exercised. It reminds us to count our blessings, choosing to look at the positive and not focus on the negative.
Sure, there are things that I could wish were different in our life (I look forward to the day I might get to stay home and not be the one working), but focusing on those things does nothing but create dissatisfaction and frustration.
My husband isn't perfect, but I am certainly far from it! So I am thankful for what he does do and is good at and appreciate that he is encouraging and supportive to me. The dishes might pile up the nights I work, but we are never out of diapers for the kids (we cloth diaper and he does the vast majority, if not all, of the diaper laundry.) I choose to look at the good and overlook the frustrating.
And while kids (particularly such little ones!) are a lot of work, they are a joy and blessing and I think that many times it's all in the perspective you choose. There are times I wish my husband and I could step out for an evening or participate in some adult activity or I go out for the afternoon without worrying about being back to take care of the family. But the smile on my children's faces when we are playing, the hugs and cuddles, the victories in child training (even though you know the battle will have to be fought again), make life so much more fulfilling and rewarding!
There are certainly days, or even longer periods of time, where I find frustration, discouragement, and discontent much easier to give in to, but continuing to be thankful for what we have—and voicing it, even when I don’t feel very thankful—can change that perspective around, leading to contentment and joy with where I am right now.
And as Paul said in Philippians 3:12, “Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me.”
P.S.—One other tip my husband is constantly reminding me: don’t compare yourself to others. First of all, their life is not always what it seems. Second, it primarily serves to rob you of joy and peace and contentment with where you are.
Let me introduce myself. My name is Netsie, I was an MK (missionary kid) for a year before starting college, and I currently live in central WA with a 26 mo old, an 11 mo old, and a third due the end of July. I work full-time as a night shift nurse at the local hospital and am married to a wonderful man who is an amazing father to our children. Heidi contacted me recently with the compliment that “you are an amazing mom and being pregnant, would you want to share some tips on keeping a joy-filled home when you have two tinies and one on the way?”
I was surprised (“shocked” would probably be more accurate), and flattered, naturally, but also felt I was probably one of the last people to give any sort of life advice! After all, I’m not the amazing one, my husband is, he’s the one that takes care of the kids most of the time, I’m gone nearly half the time to work. I am not a shining Christian example that has anything godly to say like "I make sure I prioritize my time with God and do X, Y, and Z throughout the day." or even have tricks to keeping one's mind focused on Him, because I'm not good at that at all myself!
I despair over being truly proficient in the kitchen.
Our apartment tends to be messy more often than not. (It's a good thing there's no one to stop by unexpectedly to see it....though, at times, that can be depressing, too, because friends that aren't hundreds or thousands of miles away would be really nice sometimes.)
Plus, our life is completely not what I had planned or imagined, in many aspects.
But I can honestly say I am happy and we as a family are happy. I have been blessed with an amazing husband and wonderful kids. But even when I knew I had a good husband and that kids were a blessing, it didn’t always feel that way and rather than feeling happy, I generally felt an undercurrent of dissatisfaction or frustration in life. It has certainly been a process!
Our life together did not start out as planned. Two weeks before the wedding, my then-fiancé broke his foot, requiring surgery to fix it, and in the years since he has never been pain-free. It has limited a lot of what he can do and a lot of what we had talked about and dreamed about doing together. I found it frustrating that we couldn’t go on those walks and hikes we had planned, especially as hiking has been a big part of my life since childhood. We got pregnant sooner than we had wanted or planned and I had a miserable pregnancy, being sick for almost the full 9 months. He’s currently the stay-at-home dad while I work full-time, which is not what either of us wanted or expected. (Not that I am saying there’s anything wrong with such an arrangement, but it’s not what we had wanted or planned on.) With little ones, the apartment seemed to fall further and further into disarray, tasks continually piling up. Disappointments and frustrations piled up.
But I have slowly learned to be content in whatever situation we find ourselves. And that contentment has led to joy.
This contentment has stemmed from the practice of thankfulness on a regular, if not daily, basis. Philippians 4:6-7 says to “be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” This has been my go-to verse in almost any situation, but there are many verses that encourage the practice of thankfulness. I Thessalonians 5:18 reminds us that we should “in everything, give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” Colossians 3:15 “And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful.”
Thankfulness is not something that just happens or that you simply feel when something good comes along, it is a daily discipline that needs to be practiced and exercised. It reminds us to count our blessings, choosing to look at the positive and not focus on the negative.
Sure, there are things that I could wish were different in our life (I look forward to the day I might get to stay home and not be the one working), but focusing on those things does nothing but create dissatisfaction and frustration.
My husband isn't perfect, but I am certainly far from it! So I am thankful for what he does do and is good at and appreciate that he is encouraging and supportive to me. The dishes might pile up the nights I work, but we are never out of diapers for the kids (we cloth diaper and he does the vast majority, if not all, of the diaper laundry.) I choose to look at the good and overlook the frustrating.
And while kids (particularly such little ones!) are a lot of work, they are a joy and blessing and I think that many times it's all in the perspective you choose. There are times I wish my husband and I could step out for an evening or participate in some adult activity or I go out for the afternoon without worrying about being back to take care of the family. But the smile on my children's faces when we are playing, the hugs and cuddles, the victories in child training (even though you know the battle will have to be fought again), make life so much more fulfilling and rewarding!
There are certainly days, or even longer periods of time, where I find frustration, discouragement, and discontent much easier to give in to, but continuing to be thankful for what we have—and voicing it, even when I don’t feel very thankful—can change that perspective around, leading to contentment and joy with where I am right now.
And as Paul said in Philippians 3:12, “Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me.”
P.S.—One other tip my husband is constantly reminding me: don’t compare yourself to others. First of all, their life is not always what it seems. Second, it primarily serves to rob you of joy and peace and contentment with where you are.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Up and coming!
Hey dear friends,
This week, as have the last few weeks, been very busy for me and I often feel convicted on where my priorities lie.
I struggle to find balance and get things done and feel guilty when I have spent "enough" time with my kids. And I rarely feel like I have anything together.
In church on Sunday I guiltily wrote this, like my high school self would have, on my arm:
"I will not pass"
I will not pass up opportunities to be kind to my children,
I will not pass up opportunities to hug kiss and cuddle them
To speak kindly and calmly instead of quickly and in anger (towards my two year old)
To laugh in their moments with them
To be joyful with them
Basically I want to slow down.
It's a goal that will probably be failed at, but at least I can meditate on it.
Motherhood is tough. And greatly fun and joy filling. It brings out the worst and best in me. And I think I am not alone.
Hence in leu of Mother's Day I have asked several guest writers to contribute to the blog. They have all blessed my journey to and through motherhood and I felt that you may be encouraged by them as well.
We will be talking about
Keeping a joy filled home when life isn't quite what you had planned it to be,
Finding peace in the midst of chaos,
Being a mother without your own mother
Being a new mother in a new place,
And being a mother in a small space...
To mention a few.
I hope you all feel free to contribute to these women's stories with stories of your own and that we will find solidarity even within the digital realm.
Ok! This exciting!
But don't get too excited that you don't sleep and kick around like my Little Fox is doing tonight.
Instead sleep on the reminder from another mom...
Our hope doesn’t rest on our finally getting it together. Our hope rests in Jesus. - Staci Eldrige, Captivating
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