Things I learned from a mama cat

It all started in the late fall. My middle kid, also known as "the animal whisperer," got sort of attached to the neighborhood cat.

Okay, he got really attached. He named her "Scruffy" because she really was. (I love her face in this picture. She looks totally aggravated by his affection.) She belonged to the neighbors across the way, but she wandered around the neighborhood all day. He was worried she would get run over. He was worried she was hungry. It would get cold at night and he would worry that she was cold.

 And lonely.

Have you ever tried to shepherd a child's heart that cares so much about animals? When you sort of like them and respect them as God's creation but don't really feel this real attachement to them like your sweet, quiet son does?

Well. It can get sticky really fast.

So we fed her. (hush, I know what they say. But did you read those previous paragraphs? Do you see his face? Okay then...)

And when it got really cold, Daddy said he could let her sleep in the garage. We bought her a woolen blanket at the thrift store, and he got a box and made her a bed. And put her food and water in the garage.

This cat, this Scruffy, looked really appreciative for these acts of kindness.

Fast forward to the spring, and the girl kid comes running in the house one afternoon, tears streaming down her face.

"MOM! A cat is on Scruffy and biting her neck and Scruffy is making this terrible noise and you have to come help her! Quick!!!"

My heart sank.

Oh no... 


I started to stumble over my words, trying desperately to avoid a conversation about any birds and/or bees, and trying to get back to the school day, so I said, "Oh, well, I mean, really I, um...."

In the midst of my stumbling, her eyes got wide and she said, "Oh. Right. Um, yeah. I'll get started on my work..." Her face flushed as she dug around for her school books.

I mean, we have had some talks, but neither of us was up for one that day. But she knew sort of what was up and "no talk" was good for both of us that day.

But now we had a bigger problem.

I started pondering cat fertility and the probability, or perhaps the possibility, that she wouldn't become a mama.

I started eyeing her belly, watching.

Sure enough, a kid came in one day and stated, "Scruffy is getting fat."

I looked at the girl kid and her eyes got wide. We groaned together.

Here we go.

The hubs and I had a rare dinner date one night. We were going to see a movie too, but had a little time after dinner before the movie started.

"Anywhere you want to go?" he asked.

"Well, actually, I need to run in to Walmart and get some toilet paper," I replied.

He literally rolled his eyes.

"Really? That is so not romantic. Toilet paper shopping on a date?" he groaned.

Well. We have kids and we're old.

Our dates are not what they used to be.

Anyway, as we walked down the aisle of WalMart, him with a huge economy pack of toilet paper under his arm, I said, "Oh yeah. Scruffy's pregnant..."

He literally stopped in the aisle and threw his head back and said, "OH MY GOSH!"

My timing is also not what it used to be.

Fast forward to a warm night in April. We had come home from church on a Wednesday night and as we were getting into the house, Scruffy kept trying to dart in the house. We kept shooing her away, and the thought crossed my mind that she was trying to get in the house to have a safe place to have her babies.

That wasn't an option for poor Scruffy.

The next morning as we flew out of the house for a field trip, Scruffy came walking up. Skinny.

"SHE HAD HER BABIES!!!!!" I yelled. "Get in the van; we're late!"

The poor kids were wide-eyed and worried about her the whole field trip.

We looked for them the rest of that week, but couldn't figure out where they were.

Then, a week later, I went out to exercise one morning and saw that Scruffy had accidentally been locked in the garage over night. I let her out and she ran right to a bush by our front door. I peeked in the bush and sure enough, nestled in the soft dirt under a bush against the house were her babies.

I just cried out, "Oh, look!" Tears sprang to my eyes and, I know this is going to sound really weird, but I just started to thank God for His creation.

I called to the kids and they were so excited.

The kids sat by that bush for the longest time. The middle kid sat there longer, even after everyone else had gone inside. He sat there for hours. 

A couple of days went by. We were all outside one afternoon and suddenly Scruffy walked by us with something dangling out of her mouth. Two kids started crying and one kid started yelling. 

Loudly. At the cat.

I had to quickly explain that this was the way mama cats carry their babies. 

I'm not sure they believed me.

What was so cool was that she was bringing them into the garage. We had a huge box that our lawn mower had come in. The boys had been playing with it, but they flipped it over and filled it with blankets and towels and made a home for those kittens. 

Mama cat wasn't ready for us to play with the kittens yet, so she hid them in an exposed wall of the garage behind some boxes where the kids couldn't get to them. Finally, after a few more days, she put them in the box.

The kids were beyond ecstatic. 

I cannot tell you how many times I went into the garage to find the kids in the box with the kittens. 

Sweet Scruffy was always nearby, but she allowed the kids free reign with her babies. 

The kids loved on those kittens. They each chose one and named it. 

We ended up with Fuzzy, Muzzy, Sophie, Ninja and Scruffy Jr. 

(After a friend investigating and telling us that they are all girls, we had to rename Ninja "Nya," which is the girl Lego Ninjago ninja. And if that means nothing to you, be thankful.)

Watching this cat mama her babies has truly been amazing. To see how she knows perfectly how to care for them, is just the neatest thing. I have seen God's sovereignty so much in this cat. The way she was perfectly created to carry, birth and care for these kittens is nothing short of awe inspiring. 

I have also really identified with her. 

She is eating so much food. She is single handedly keeping five kittens alive. I even give her a bowl of milk occasionally, just as a treat. She's working so hard to nurse them and keep them alive. I find myself sitting by her while the kids fawn over the kittens. I stroke her and tell her she's doing a great job.

You know, Mama to Mama. 

I rub her belly and cuddle her and try to bring the kittens to her if one escapes. I let her out for a break and watch the kittens while she's gone.

I may be taking it all a little far...

I mean, she just looks at me some times as if, "I am so tired of this..." 

And I remember. 

I took Dr. Sear's advice and stayed in my nightgown for two week after each child was born. This reminded me that my only jobs were to allow my body to heal and take care of my baby. 

I would sit and nurse that baby until I thought I was going to lose my mind.

But you know what? Those days were only a handful and they disappeared like a mist. 

I'd be so much more patient and appreciative now. 

And this cat is. Patient. She leaves the kittens and goes out for breaks now and then, but for the most part, she takes constant care of them. 

She never once mentions the old life she left behind.

Okay, I know she can't but as I watch her, it's almost as if she knows these days are fleeing and she's okay with where she is.

As again, as crazy as this sounds, this spoke to me. 

These days are fleeting. 

Even when you are trying to eat and this is what is happening:

Or when you're trying to eat and the kitten is trying to nurse:

I mean, is she not saying, "What the heck? Help me out here."

Can I tell you how many meals I ate while nursing a baby? How many times I dropped food and drink on a baby's head? It was so long since that I went without a hot meal that I still to this day don't mind a cold plate of food.

Yet she is patient. 

They rarely leave her side. Even when they have an entire yard to play in.

Yep. I understand that too. 

This is me, trying to lay in my hammock for five minutes. And there are my little kids. Even though they have a whole yard to play in. 

But that's okay.

These days are short.

They follow her everywhere. They meow and she meows back to them. Where ever they are in the yard, they communicate. It's amazing, really. She always knows where all five of them are. And one day, a kid almost hit one of them with the back garage door. (They are fast little suckers.) The kitten squealed and Scruffy came across the yard quick as lightening. 

Again. Amazing. 

God's creation is perfectly created. 

It makes me worship more. 

The way she protects these kittens is flat out admirable. 

Poor Fluffy has gotten swatted more than once for getting too close. She's not impressed with them anyway, especially when a close inspection usually results in a swat to the nose...

...Or to her tail as she runs as fast as she can away from a mad mama. Oh that I would unabashedly protect my kids from the evils that would tempt them. Not in a harmful, sheltering sort of way, but in a way that is modeled for me in the way Jesus cares for His flock as our Shepherd. 

And so we have been blessed by these little kittens. They are almost constantly with a child.

And no, we are not keeping not even one.

And yes, we've had lots of tears already about this.

That's okay too.

It's been fun for the kids and good for me.

I've learned a lot from Scruffy.

She is always patient and tender with her babies.

And even though having kids is harder than having kittens, I'm still reminded that I am the nurturer and protector of these precious kids. I want to be as tender and sweet with my kids as she is with these kittens. Even when I'm tired and weary and don't think I can go on, the Lord offeres His grace to allow me to do what's right and not what's easy.

And I want to. 

And just because kittens are cute, here are some more pictures.

 

Fine. I may shed a tear or two when it comes time to get them go. I go get one out of the box and snuggle it when I do Bible study or read. They are soft and sweet and oddly comforting. And cute too. 

Pumpkin Patch

We made our annual visit to the pumpkin patch yesterday, but we almost didn't get to go. I inadvertently scheduled another field trip the same day without realizing it. At the last minute we were able to work it out. I was so glad because this is such a special part of the way we love to celebrate fall. 

We were late, rushing to meet our friends, and I yelled for the kids to let me take a picture. They really don't mind doing things like this for their photo-obsessed mother, but they knew they were missing things and were ready to get on with it. I knew that we probably wouldn't remember to do it when we left, so I made them sit quickly for a quick picture. 

The picture from this year made me both happy and sad. 

It made me think back through the years, and so this morning, I took a few minutes strolling down memory lane and gathered the pictures from pumpkin patches through the years. 

I'm not sure who these big kids belong to. Laney, on the cusp of being 10 years old, and the boys, so big. And on a side note, this is the first year it has ever been cool at the farm, even though we go each year. I was very thankful for that. 

Last year, we were really, really hot. This is what I think the kids should look like. Perhaps I'm a year behind in their development. I probably need to catch up. 

This was the last year Laney would wear a "fall" shirt. The last year they were all little. 

This one makes my heart melt. The days were still long and hard, but those faces kill me. 

This year we only made it to the tiny church pumpkin patch right around the corner by our house. That kid in the middle is showing you why. To look at the picture makes me so incredibly tired. And thankful that they are big like that first picture now.

And this is why we didn't go to a pumpkin patch this year. I looked at this picture and had a heart attack. I honestly don't remember most of those days, but how adorable is he? I do wish I could kiss those cheeks one more time! 

 And here were the other two. I love those kids. 

As I tried so hard to encourage a sweet new mom this week, I did so gently. I see now, five years out from these last photos, that the time does fly. But I remember all too well those first days with your first born. The unfathomable exhaustion, the worry and stress, the overwhelming sense of twenty-four hour responsibility, the physical demands on a body just having carried a baby for nine months and then gotten the baby out, not to mention swirling hormones and thoughts only of how to go to the bathroom by yourself  or take a shower at least every couple of days, again, alone. 

I could have cried for her, and given the week that just was, I probably did. 

I so wanted to encourage her, yet assure her that she would blink once and these days would be over. Because it's true. But when some well meaning soul would tell me this in Publix as I struggled to make it through that moment, I didn't believe her. 

Thankfully I found a sweet blog post that perfectly expressed what I could not. I read it tearfully and sent it to her, hoping the the Holy Spirit would use it to comfort and encourage her. 

And I prayed for her a lot. I won't ever forgot how hard those days were, nor will I ever say to a young mom, "Just wait until _____ stage. It's so much harder."

No. It's all hard. Just different kinds of hard. 

But the take away for me is the same. That even as I get tired and discouraged in this stage of life, I will remember that it's over all too quickly. And even as I sit now and see a Saturday full of chores and sole responsibilities today for these three ever changing kids, I know that He is strong in me and that soon I'll be sitting in a quiet house, looking back at pictures of Pumpkin Patches from years past, wondering where the years all went.

And that helps me allow Him to be strong in me and do today well. 

Consolation

She looked at me appraisingly with bright blue eyes - young, bright and carefree.

"Do you work?" she asked, studying me well.

I was caught off guard. It had been a while since I had heard that question.

"Oh, no. I stay home with them..." I nodded to my kids who were bouncing nearby. 

"Oh," she said. 

She paused a moment. 

"Well, that's a full time job..." 

Her words trailed off (I heard the unspoken "sort of" in there) and I turned my gaze full on her as I decided how to respond. 

How could she know? 

I chose kindness. 

"Yeah, it is. But it's good, and I'm thankful I get to stay home with them."

That's all she wanted to hear. Actually I'm not sure she made it through the entire sentence, but though no fault of her own. Her sweet youthfulness prevented her from even pondering for a moment what it might be like to "stay at home with kids."

And who can blame her?

Later in the day I reflected on the emotions that the conversation had stirred in me.

What I really wanted to say was, "No, actually this is like having four full time jobs (you know, since most jobs are 40 hours and there are 168 hours in a week.)  And there is no clock out time, no sick days, no personal days, no lunch breaks and no monetary benefit. Oh, and no vacation days, and no weekends."

I am so glad I didn't say that. 

(Thankfully I can't do math that quickly, so even if I had wanted to say all that I couldn't have. There you go. My lack of quick math skills actually worked to my benefit. I'm waiting for the benefit of the lack of spelling skills to kick in any day now.)

So why did I feel the need to go there? 

Even to myself?

Was it because it had been a hard week? Was it because I was staring down another school year fully aware of all of my inadequacies as a teacher, much less as a mother? Was it because I was tired? Worried? Stressed? Wondering how my kids were going to turn out in the grand scheme of life?

Probably.

And maybe I was tired of staying at home with my kids being viewed as a second hand occupation. Sort of a consolation prize. 

My second favorite question is, "What will you do after they are gone? Will you work then?"

You know, stop sucking up resources and actually start contributing to society again? Pulling your weight? Do something worthwhile?

That's my other favorite. 

Oh, I already said that.

Usually I tell people (on a good day) that when my youngest has graduated from high school I will be 52 years old. (You don't want to know how long it took me to figure that number out or what that number did to my... everything.)

So at 52 I will have been out of the workplace for a grand total of 23 years. My degree will be obsolete, as will any job, resume or experience I may have had before I had kids.

I'm sure employers will be knocking down my door.

And I thought of all the 50 somethings that were in college with me. They messed up all the grading curves since they were actually motivated to be there and weren't messing around. (I was too, for that matter, but dang, those ladies knew how to study. They blew us away every single time.)

I guess that's why they were there. Their children had sauntered off into the sunset, leaving behind a mother who had cleaned, nursed, chauffeured, cooked, and cared for them for more than 18 years and left behind an exhausted and used up woman who then had to figure out what they were good for now.

Or at least that's what it looks like from this vantage point. 

You know, looking ahead. 

All this doesn't change anything, really. I know with out a shred of doubt that I can where I am supposed to be. I know that no matter how bad at this job I am, no matter how many horrific days we have, no matter how much I ask God, "Are you SURE about this?" and no matter how many times the Accuser tells me that I'm messing my kids up irreparably, I will keep on. 

And no matter how many times people look at me sympathetically when I say I am a stay at home mom, (and boy the sympathetic looks my kids get when I tell them we homeschool) I will stand strong in this calling.

And you know why? Mostly because I know the work God is doing in me because I stay home.

That's the secret that they don't know or probably even care about. 

And He's training up an army in this house. He's going to use it for His glory, and we are simply getting ready for that, working hard while we're waiting, being used all the while, but knowing that our efforts are not in vain. We are creating a foundation in Him that will never be shaken. We are forming bonds as a family that will never be broken. We are seeking him as a family. We are learning about Him and all His ways. We are devoted to Him in thought, word, action and deed. And though it's hard and there are days I want to give up, run and hide, I keep on. I persevere because I know that I am not operating in the temporal. I'm building eternal things in this house. Things that will live on for an eternity. All for His glory. 

So that makes it a little easier to smile when asked this disheartening question. 

To say, 

"Yeah, I get to stay at home with my kids. And I'm glad..."

And really mean it.

A new day

I tumbled from the bed wiping sleep from my eyes and smoothing my hair from my face. I fumbled for my glasses and phone, which had offensively woken me with a start. My body wasn't ready to start the day. 

As soon as my feet hit the floor, my brain began to spin. All the things that needed to be done flooded into my mind, like a dam had burst. As the thoughts raced around and around, I gripped a coffee cup and poured into it what I hoped would kick start some sanity.

I opened my Bible, asking the Lord to show and teach through His Word. He was faithful even though my brain fought back with fierce competition - the to do list and offending thoughts battled for my attention.

It was frustrating.

My walk was filled with desperate prayer, complicated thoughts and deep wrestling. Not entirely restful. My body refused to run. In fact I had to push it to even walk at a quick pace. The dog pulled and tugged against her leash. She too wanted to push back this morning. 

I stepped back into the dark warmth of the house, deep in thought over something I was reading on my phone as I walked. I collasped onto the kitchen floor as I tried to process the thoughts that seeped into my already over flowing brain.

As I looked up from my spot on the floor, I heard the phone ringing as I saw a dirty kitchen floor and cabinets in desperate of a good wipe down. 

I sighed deeply.

Around the corner came my middle son. He spoke no words as he saw me on the floor and quietly curled into my lap. I rested my face on his head and breathed. He said in his quite voice, "I love you." 

I closed my eyes to ignore the dirt and waited for the phone to stop ringing. I snuggled him a little closer and said, "I love you too."

I think as a mom, so much of the time I stress myself out. My to do list seems self made, at least in part. I must go to the grocery store today. Must get the suit from the cleaners, work on tax returns, and vacuum the living room...

The list spins on and on. The phone rings and suddenly I have more added to my list for today. More I have to do...

But really? Do I?

What do I have to do today? 

Help me, Lord, see the important, the most important, and just do that. I don't enjoy being overwhelmed and stressed. And I'm quiet sure this doesn't please Him. 

What I don't get done today will wait until tomorrow. And if I have to stay up late and work into the night, then there will be more quiet opportunity to spend time with Him. Right? Even if time is spent working, worship music playing softly will allow my spirit to worship Him even as the rest of me labors more. Right?

I'm desperate to be busy yet glorifying. 

I'm anxious to be productive yet pleasing.

I want to do only what is meant for me to do. 

And I'm asking for the little extra measure of grace that allows me to blog from the overflow of my day while I take a break from school to make lunch.

And to breathe while telling my brain that I'm really not overwhelmed even thought the rest of me might say otherwise.

Baby Hands

I noticed my daughter studying the four year old's hand the other day. 

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

She replied, "He still has baby hands" while holding his hand in hers. 

I dropped down beside her and studied his hand. It didn't take but a few seconds for him to snatch his hand away, poking out his tongue at us at the same time.  Yep, that's Zane. Never one much for sentiment.

It's true, though. Even as time slips toward his five year old birthday, there are still remanents of babyhood that I can catch a fleeting glimpse of - his cheeks, a few of his words and those hands. 

Maybe we cling to the baby parts of him because he is the baby of the family. As much as I love having big kids, and as much as I love reveling in the ease that having older kids bring, I still mourn the baby days at times. And as I feel those baby hands rub my arm or pat my back, I fully realize that these days are quickly coming to a close.

And I'm okay with that. I don't have to think back too far to remember how hard those days were.

Whew.

God is good. 

I'm thankful to my girl for pointing out those baby hands. I need help in slowing down to notice the little things that will all too soon be gone forever. As I drove down the road and noticed that baby hand out the back window, it made me smile. 

Lord, help me notice and be so very humbly thankful for the little things.

Where I stand

One week left of summer. One week. I'm actually pretty ready for school to start. I can only watch my 3 kids lay sprawled out on the couch watching Sponge Bob so much before I check myself into the Place Where Bad Mothers Go. So the thought of school starting back, weaning the kids off of television/Wii and anything else electronic, getting into a routine and actually using our brains for good rather than evil sounds pretty good right now.

They are just started to utter the dreaded words. "I'm bored." Took them this long, so I can't complain. 

I do have to get the carpets steam cleaned next week. That's the last huge project.

I also have to get our school stuff organized and ready to go.

The garage didn't get cleaned out. I'm not going to die in 110 heat index temperatures so that  we can actually use the other side of our garage. That will come the first whiff of fall I get. I'm okay with that. Everything else got done. I'm happy about that.

I'm excited about the organizational ideas the Lord has given me for the school year too. One big change will be getting up at 5 am. *shiver* It will be an adjustment to say the least. I'm okay with it though. I'm still reveling in the blessing that I got the last time God dictated my wake up time. :) Scared a bit though? Yep.

Also trying to figure out Mondays. I did school on Monday afternoons last year. My husband and I tend to stay up late on Sunday nights since it's the only night he's home early or at all. He's also home on Monday morning usually, and I hate to take that time from the kids since he doesn't see them at night. So no big deal, right? Just do school on Monday afternoon. Hm. I don't like that, though.

I have that to think through.

Meal planning is going to start again. That's huge.

The daily load of laundry washed and dried during the day, folded and put away while the kids bathe is also starting back up. No more "Mount Laundry."

Weeks One and Three will be play date and fun afternoon weeks. Weeks Two and Four will be "don't leave the house in the afternoons" weeks to clean and organize.

Sounds harsh. I know. Someone's already told me that. I'm going to try it though. I need strict guidelines. I'm a list and guidelines kind of gal.

This upcoming week is the one where I tend to get stressed and a little (lot) panicky. Once we dive in, and get back to it, I'm fine. It's the dreading the change that is so hard. I'm going to cover that in prayer this week, and praise my way out of that line of thinking. I don't like it.

I'm reminding myself to be flexible and go with the flowing. Be obedient to the Spirit. Be diligent. Work hard. Don't let stress take hold of me. Pray and praise out of that stronghold. Know that this is God's plan for me now, and He enables me to carry out what He's required me to do.

Okay. That's my plan and my pep talk. Sorry you had to come along for the ride, but hey, now you know how to pray for me. Please. :)

Be Encouraged

I'm going to have to talk about Ruth Graham some more. Be patient. Soon I'll just quote her to myself, in my own head, instead of here and there. I'm sad I'll never get to have coffee with her, but I can't wait to hug her in Heaven. I think I have a small glimpse into her heart, after having spent these last few weeks with her. And I hope I'm not incorrect in saying that I think she would want me to share this with you, copyright infringement notwithstanding. I hope.

I've talked with so many moms here lately that are struggling, myself including. Motherhood, although the greatest blessing, is also the greatest challenge I face. It's just hard a lot of the times. Of course God is faithful in helping me in my struggles, but honestly, there are times that I want to just say, "Heck, this is HARD." without following it up with some grandiose statement of faith.

I think I had also get these ideas in my mind that not all moms struggle like I do. It's hard to share our problems or issues because of a plethora of reasons. So I was looking for some encouragement from a mom who had 5 kids, and pretty much raised them on her own. Surely there were some lessons that I could learn from her-some practical advice worthy of putting to use here.

This is from her book, It's My Turn.

"Dear Journal,
Reading again from Exodus 33:12-16. This job of training five little grahams to be good soldiers of Jesus Christ is too big for me, who am not a good soldier myself. Feeling particularly distracted (or should I say overwhelmed and confused) this morning, I have been looking to the Lord asking, "Where, from here?"

Bill will be leaving soon for the San Francisco meeting. And I almost have a sinking feeling. Not altogether a left-behind sort of feeling, but a swamped, knowing that all the things I have depended on other to do, I shall have to do myself.

And things have not been going smoothly. There is a terrible amount of fighting amoung the children, ugliness and back talk from GiGi, and peevishness on my part backed by sporadic, uncertain discipline.

I am not walking in the Lord's way at all. I am doing what I feel like doing rather than what I ought to do. These verses hit me hard: "She who is self indulgent is dead even while she lives" (1 Timothy 5:6 rsv), and "The fruit of the Spirit is... self control" (Galations 5:22, 23)

Self-indulgence is doing what we want rather than what we ought. I had always thought of self-control applying to tempter or to drink. But what about the almonds in the pantry, the ice cream and chocolate sauce, the candy which I know will add unnecessary pounds and make my face break out? What about controlling my tongue? My tone of voice? Standing up straight? Writing letters? All these and more more need controlling.

And I don't look well to the ways of my household. Regular family prayers at supper table. Children's clothes kept mended and neat and organized. Getting ready for Sunday on Saturday. Well, there's no use going into it all. It just boils down to the fact that I am not being a good mother.

So I took it to Him this morning. I want above everything to be the kind of person He wants. If He had His undisputed way in me I would be. Everything would solve itself. The place to begin is here, the time to begin is now. And as I reread Exodus 33:12-16, the phrase that jumped out at me, which I had never noticed before, was: "Show me now THY way."

P.S. I could not help but chuckle when I read a quote from Mr. Abba Eban in the London Times (June 13, 1980): "...Israelis are not renowned for any spontaneous tendency to agree with one another."

(Neither were little Grahams.)

Oh, isn't it refreshing, to see how motherhood affects even those we think probably has it all together? And I am inspired by the way she sank into the Word. I mean who turns to Exodus to look for reassurance for parenting worries? Unless you already know what's there. (Actually it makes great sense, on second thought. Moses was parenting all those Israelites, really.) We HAVE to be in the Word. We can't rely on His promises unless we know what His promises are and where they are. I am recommitted to turning to the Word for any and all times that I feel off balance. Oh the joys and balms for the soul that are there.


Okay, one more and I'm done.


" 'There is no situation so chaotic that God cannot from that situation, create something that is surpassingly good. He did it at the creation. He did it at the cross. He is doing it today. ' Bishop Moule

It was early in the morning in another country. Exhausted as I was, I awoke around three o'clock. The name of someone I loved dearly flashed into my mind. It was like an electric shock. Instantly I was wide awake. I knew there would be no more sleep for me the rest of the night. So I lay there and prayed for the one who was trying hard to run away from God. When it was dark and the imagination runs wild, there are fears that only a mother can understand.

Suddenly the Lord said to me, Quit studying the problems and start studying the promises. Now God has never spoken to me audibly, but there is no mistaking when He speaks.

So I turned on the light, got out my Bible, and the first verse that came to me was Philippians 4:6: "Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God." And verse 7: "And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." Or as the Amplified Version has it, "Do not fret or have any anxiety about anything, but in every circumstance and in everything by prayer and petition [definite requests] with thanksgiving continue to make your wants known to God..." (my italics).

Suddenly I realized the missing ingredient in my prayers had been "with thanksgiving." So I put down my Bible and spent time worshiping Him for who He is and what He is. This covers more territory than any one mortal can comprehend. Even contemplating what little we do know dissolves doubts, reinforces faith, and restores joy. I began to thank God for giving me this one I loved so dearly in the first place. I even thanked Him for the difficult spots which taught me so much.

And you know what happened? It was as if suddenly someone turned on the lights in my mind and heart, and the little fears and worries which, like mice and cockroaches, had been nibbling away in the darkness, suddenly scuttled for cover.

That was when I learned that worship and worry cannot live in the same heart: they are mutually exclusive."

Tears of joy, giving God thanks for allowing this precious woman to bless and encourage me. I love you, Ruth.

A weird thing happened here last night...

For the first time, in 7 1/2 years, I slept in a bed with no kids. Yep. It's true. I somehow convinced Zane to sleep on the futon in our bedroom. He calls it "Jude's Bed" since this was where Jude slept when he transitioned from our bed to his own bed. Zane slept all night, and woke up at his usual 6ish. I don't know if he'll do it again, but I'm gonna try. I laughed, because when he went upstairs to wake Allen up, he got his pillow off "his" bed and put it back in our bed, right in between Allen's and my pillows. I'm gonna put that sucker back on the futon! I'm excited about having my bed back!

That said, I don't second guess my co-sleeping choices at all. I wouldn't trade the experiences with my kids for anything in the whole world. I actually missed that little guy in my bed, but it's okay with me if he moves to his own. Just another sign that they are all growing up! And I am SO happy! And thankful!!!

The Invisible Mom

Thank you to the mom that shared this with me. I think I just really needed this to be in my heart this week:

The Invisible MOM
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the
phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being.
I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please." I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disap peared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty
pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Carol , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave
their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything. A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the
cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my daughter to tell the friend she's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Bossy, bossy

Laney was playing with my phone one morning while I was sitting on the couch, trying ever so hard to wake up. She clicked way on the keyboard, and then handed me this. I love the line at the bottom. Evidently they were in danger of drying up and blowing away if breakfast wasn't served immediately. At least she's bossing me technologically. That seems better. Somehow.

Party Animal

I've been all wrapped up in Publix this week, playing my own little version of the Grocery Game. They had coupons, plus sales, on things we eat, so I went a little crazy. I was planning one last trip during this sale week, and was dreading it a tad, seeing as how Zane has little patience for these sale runs. Imagine that.

My friend Heather got me all excited about the penny item at Publix yesterday, and I texted Allen to see if he would stop by on the way home and pick it up. I don't normally go to Publix on Sundays or Monday, penny items notwithstanding. It isn't usually stuff we use, but this one was. (It was supposed to be our Greenwise bathroom tissue, but in the end, it was sugar. A deal also, I guess...)

Allen said he would, and said he'd be home about 9, his usual. I suddenly had a wild, hair brained idea, and texted him back to see if maybe *I* could go when he got back. He said sure, and I hurried through my kitchen clean up and my "work out" so I could be ready as soon as he arrived.

He got home, and as I was leaving, I mentioned that I felt badly going to Publix fresh from exercising. I looked just horrible. He said anyone at Publix at 9 o'clock at night wasn't going to look too great. That made me feel a little better. (Oddly enough I did get into line behind a lady that had just worked out. Or at least she looked that way. I almost said, in my out of the house glee, "I just worked out too!" but in my mind's eye, I saw her turning around, looking at me, and saying, "I didn't just exercise...." I kept my mouth shut, in case that actually happened. So I guess in some ways, I am learning to watch what I say. Yes, miracles do happen.)

So I jumped into Allen's car, while although not a fancy car, makes me so happy to drive, like when you were 16 and you just learned how to drive. It also makes me feel less like a frumpy mom that I so usually feel like in the minivan. As I jumped in the car, I realized I was a little too excited to be going to Publix on a Monday night. I bounced around Publix in a much to happy to make sense way. I smiled a little to broadly at the other people there, and chatted it up with the nice lady who checked me out. Driving home, I thought how strangely the world looked at night. So much differently than during the day.

I had a blast on my little Monday night excursion. And when I got home, Zane had woken up and Allen, yes the Daddy, got him back to sleep. It was so nice to see that.

And I saved more than I spent. A goal of mine for a while. And as I lay down to go to sleep, I thought...

Maybe there is life past my driveway at night after all!

Haircut

I bought some clippers at Walmart a while back, thinking I really could cut the boys hair. Allen's even! I haven't had time to try it out, but on last Thursday, Emily was here, and I got brave. Jude was fine with it, since he'd been saying for awhile he wanted me to cut his hair. So we figured out the clippers, put the cape on him and off we went. *Ahem* First let me say it's much harder than it looks. We struggled to find the right size clipper guard. They always scissor cut his hair on the top at the hair cut place (as we call it) and I always wondered why. Well, I think I know now. I tried so hard to get it even, and there was a slight side burn incident. As in he doesn't have any anymore. We laughed so hard, I was crying. Jude was a great sport, and he likes his hair. Thank goodness for that. Emily did point out that doing this right before Easter wasn't probably the greatest idea, since people take lots of pictures at Easter. She also thought it was good that he was only 5. I asked her if that meant that she thought that I shouldn't cut Allen's hair. She definitely thought that. So I'll have a chance to try again really soon, since his hair grows crazy fast. Maybe I'll get the side burns right next time. And I think I'll use the scissors on the top. If he'll let me get close to his hair at all! :)

A strange thing happened this week

I had a child turn 2 years and 5 months, and no new born arrived. This is the oldest my youngest has been without a new baby arriving. This will also be the first Christmas in *7* years that I haven't had a new born or been pregnant.

I am glad about these things. Very, very glad.

Granted, had Jude been my last child, I might be morning the passing of these years more. Or at all. But seeing as how last night was the first night that Zane has slept all night since my Twilight excursion-and good timing too, since Laney threw up all night-I am greatly looking forward to having big kids.

Ironically, Allen has had pangs of the loss of the baby years. It's funny to watch, since he really didn't want 3 kids and wouldn't even discuss 4. My queries about adoption are met with a panic stricken look, and he managed to croak out once that as far as adoption goes, no child under the age of 3 was allowed in this house. I think it's safe to say that Zane has worn us out.

He is a really cool kid, though, and gets more so each day. He's hilarious too, the other day explaining to me that he was no longer a baby, but a big kid, because he can get on Laney's top bunk. I'm thankful for him, and what God has taught me through him.

I'm not sad to see these years pass on, though. I hear that we will miss these days, and I'm sure that's only because we will have forgotten how hard they were. I look forward to having big kids, and doing big kid things. I have recently been blessed with sweet friends who have older kids and teenagers. And guess what? They love having teenagers. I'm so excited to learn from them, watching how they follow in Christ's footsteps by honoring and loving their teens. I love gleaning information from them, storing it away for future reference. God is so good to light my path with those that love Him and are serving Him. He is always with His blessings.

So farewell newborn days. I loved you, but I don't miss you! I really love my big kids!!!!!

A dose of reality

I wonder if this picture will get me to stop eating??? The irony is that I'm holding a cookie!!! :):):)

He doesn't sleep, but...

Zane just asked me to take off his diaper, saying "tee tee tee tee..." so to humor him, I took off his diaper. He made me take him to the big boy potty, and I sat him on it. He promptly tee teed in it. We all 3 clapped for him, he wiped himself and flushed the potty. Flushing the potty is a huge treat, you know.

He started saying, "more more" and made me put him back on the potty. I did and he tee teed again. We all 3 clapped and he wiped himself again and flushed the potty again.

So he doesn't sleep, but he trains himself to go to the potty at 22 months.

No wonder parents are confused all the time. The kids make them that way...

This is the way we roll...

That has to be a song, or some silly phrase I picked up somewhere, but it's been stuck in my head for the last couple of days.

I finally had it with Zane and his (lack of) sleep issues. One night, after having already gone downstairs to rock him back to sleep at 11-I went to bed at 10, so you know how good that felt-he woke back up at 1. I just lost it. Crazy lost it. I resolved and swore and pledged not to rock that child ever again.

So the plan is to lay down with him to get him to sleep and hopefully teach him how to get himself back to sleep. I know he can do it. He would go 9 days or so without having to go downstairs in the middle of the night, but then he'd go two weeks of getting up at least once a night.

I was going to night wean him, but this comes first. It took me 1 hour and 45 minutes to get him to sleep the first night. 1 hour and 30 minutes the next night. Naps are pretty easy since he's so tired from not sleeping at night.

We were up from 2 until 5 this morning, NOT ROCKING. Just laying on the couch. Ugh.

I know it will get better. I'm not giving up. At this age, I can reason with him, and tell him what's going on. That's what I've been waiting for. So the first night, I said, "We aren't going to rock anymore. We are going to lay in Mommy's bed and go to sleep. This is the way we roll now..."

I laughed at myself, and wondered where the heck that came from. Oh well. It stuck and I'm still using it. "This is the way we roll now."

I waited until school was out to deal with this, and I'm glad I did. I want to have all sleep issues resolved by the time school starts back in August. It may take that long. I do not ever want to have to do school in a sleep deprived induced fog again.That really stunk.

Poor thing. I do feel for him. I'm praying for him, and I'm absolutely sure that he will be just fine!!! I'm going to be fine too... I'll be sleeping soon. I'll be sleeping soon. I'll be sleeping soon. Speaking out in faith. I'll be sleeping soon.

Ahhh, the simple life

Things have been crazy around here for weeks. We've been running all over the place, running errands and getting things done. I hit the wall last night. I knew it was time to get back to normal. We had no choice. I couldn't go anymore.

So we're home now. And today has been so wonderful. No crazy running around for. We had time to take silly picture, play with our food and do a complete day of school. Laney even took a picture of me, in which my shiny face shows yet another reason I don't prefer warm weather. And the high was 75 too. Who sweats this much??

My sweet boy gave me a flower. I love to wander around in the yard and take pictures of them. The kids learned how to play Dominoes in school, and they loved that. They played a couple of games and want to play more. (Laney remembered when we ordered pizza the other day that it came from a store called "Domino's" and they had a picture of a Domino on their box! lol) They are sitting now coloring pictures of Speed Racer - Jude (the old cartoons, not the new movie) and pictures from Samson and Delilah - Laney. They have time to chill and be creative.

Zane had his snack outside, much to Lucy's joy. It's so nice to be at home, and I'm so glad we can do this. Be still and quiet and happy. It's the only way I can function. This is all a gentle reminder for me to make things as simple as possible. There will always be weeks that I have a thousand errands to run, but I'm praying for the wisdom to choose ways to do them without making us all crazy. I've done a terrible job of that lately.