Hindsight is

A pain in the butt, is what it is.  If I had known then, what I know now, oh how things would be so different.  I think about this more than I should I'm sure.  I don't want it to sound as if I'm always looking back, living in the past.  But I understand now, more than ever that past decisions make up many of my current circumstances.  Sometimes, we fall victim to others' choices, but most often our status is the culmination of all the little and large moments in which we were in charge.

In a conversation today with a friend, I said something out loud that I have never, and I do mean never, said out loud to anyone, even myself, before.  When asked what I would do differently if I could go back I said "Everything."  And this wasn't even the part that shocked me, but more on that in a minute.  I know how it must sound to say that I would change everything.  I know you must be thinking "What about these beautiful girls, and your family, and church and friends? What about all the lessons you've learned and the memories you've made?"  But you must understand the original inquiry, IF you could go back and do it all over... is not the same as, Give back all those precious glimpses of joy, Give back the girls and all of your friends and accomplishments.  No, when someone says "If I had only known then what I know now"  I 'm not sure they're thinking of having to give up all the wonderful things you currently have within your grasp. I think the statement alludes to the thought that we would go back in time and start over with a certain amount of wisdom we've gained.  It's the reverse crystal ball.  And there are some days that I'm buying.

The thing is, I'm not good enough for the good in my life.  No one really is, but I'm a special case. I really just don't deserve to be here surrounded by such precious creatures. The more I get to know myself, the more I see what a wanderer I really might have been.  A long time ago I subscribed to the thought that my life's work would be wife and mother.  It's a great job if it's where you're talent lies.  But I'm not convinced it's what I really should have done. I'm just not the natural I'd convinced myself I would be. Oh, I could never give them back, any of them. I could never voluntarily take the Exit door and leave it all behind.

Except then today, I shocked myself by saying "I am always on the brink, on that edge of being the mother that just never comes back."  I couldn't believe I said it! Partially because it was so painfully true and partially because it just sounds so terrible.  What mother says something like that?!? This one, I suppose.  And the more I thought about that statement, the more I understood what I was trying to say.  A large part of my heart and spirit cry out to be free on a daily basis.

In college (the first time over 13 years ago) I had a friend that really embraced the free spirit side of me.  We rode motorcycles, fished, drove for hours, sat on back roads saying nothing and just gazing at the stars.  It was a wonderful time, not a single worry in my life.  Seriously, half the time I didn't even bother with class.  I had no definite goals, I just knew that I wanted to travel, to soak up people and places.  I knew I wanted to be free of any responsibilities and worries.  I knew this to my very core, I could not wait for the next adventure.  But somehow, at some point, I grew up, I became the person I thought I should be.  I haven't always done the growing up bit successfully.  I have to admit there has been quite the learning curve.  It's safe to say that I'm still figuring it out.

But in my statement today I realized how much of my original self I have pushed away.  It's not my girls' fault.  I made the decision, believe me, I begged and cried and pleaded for their arrival, it was a conscious decision.  But I look at my friends around me that just find so much joy in being with their children all the time.  I see some of them homeschool their children and then take them with them everywhere they go.  Don't misunderstand me, I love that Wrecking Crew so much that it hurts sometimes. At night, I stand in their doorways and pray and cry to God to keep evil away from them and bring joy and peace to their lives. I am forever praying for the people that are with them on a daily basis. I can actually feel my heart break a little each time they reach a milestone that says "I'm growing up!" I love them more than I thought possible.  I love them more everyday.  But when I get in the Mommy Bus by myself, I breathe a sigh of relief.  When I lay in bed at night and think about the things I want to do, places I want to go, it often involves no one other than myself.

I worry about this a bit.  Most days I'm just too busy with the business of being a wife, mother and full time student to even think about going anywhere other than what is on that day's perfectly timed schedule.  The majority of the time, I have to schedule myself a potty break.  There is no time for a jaunt off by myself into the great unknown.  But I do worry, that maybe I'm not showing my girls all that there is possible in this life.  Am I showing them what adventures await?  I am pushing them to a husband, house and 2.5 kids?  I don't know what the correct answer is, I find myself at a loss.  I want to be good to them.  I want them to feel invincible in their goals, hopes and dreams.  I want them to have a realization of the fragility of life.  And I certainly don't ever want them to think that their mom was just raising inconveniences.  If I never get back to that wandering part of myself, I don't ever want them to think that I regretted my choice to mother them.

Maybe I'm alone in these thoughts.  Maybe I'm the only mother out there that thinks if she left that things would be chaotic only for a few days, and then life would go on.  The things is, I know it would.  My girls are clever and strong and precious.  They would be fine.  It's me that would inevitably fall apart.

I am working on this, I am further evolving as a person, mother and upstanding member of society.  I mean c'mon, I currently deal with poop from 5 different species on a daily basis. And that's just when I'm home.  I am pushing myself to be better, more focused, and more conscientious of how my children perceive my feelings towards them.  And as of today I'm scheduling a time to feed my wild side on a more consistent basis in a well controlled environment.

As for the friend, my magnificent friend, thank you for listening with such rapt attention and pretending not to think the worst of me. You are definitely a favorite.

To know Him is to love Him…

So if you’re thinking that this post is about my husband, then you’re wrong.  Not because the title wouldn’t apply to him, but because I doubt I will ever write about my hubby.  He’s a complicated one in that he’s not that complicated.  Most men aren’t and while we women would take that as a bit of an insult, my husband definitely would not.  He delights in being as simple and easy to read as possible.  It’s one of the many things that drive me crazy about him and make me appreciate him all the same.  Therefore, there’s not a ton to write about, thus saving us all the agony of having to read about my beloved.

No, this post is about a guy we all “know.”  I use the term lightly (hence the “  “ marks) because there are so many times we think we “know” someone.  I mean they could be our best friend and we spend an inordinate amount of time with them and then one day WHAM! They do something or say something that is the proverbial equivalent to being hit by a Wal-Mart truck.  We never saw it coming and can’t believe that our closest confidant just said or did that outrageous thing.  The harsh truth is, we can never really know someone inside out.  We are living, breathing beings and therefore also changing, evolving, and freaking our friends out by our off the wall choices when they thought they knew us so well.  You may think you know your husband, your momma, your best friend of 25 years, and don’t get me wrong you probably do know a lot of facts about them.  You could probably take yourself down to the mall and get them something that they would just love because you know them so well.  You could plan a big surprise party for them and know the people they would definitely want to attend and those invitations that should get “lost in the mail.”  These are the people that when they die, you could pick out the clothes they would want to be buried in and that special song that they would want played that would make everyone cry every time they heard it from then on.  I know we all know people that know us best.  It is good to have those relationships in our life.  We were created to make bonds through marriage, blood and common denominators.  But, no matter how deep your knowledge is of someone, you can never really know what is going on in their mind.  You can never really know what it is that they think of as they are laying in bed at night.  We all have the secret rooms in our heart and mind that we just don’t share with anyone.  I don’t think we always mean to keep things from people. Believe me, I am one of the most transparent people you’ll find. Partially because I believe in being honest (see previous posts) but mostly because I have a big mouth and my filter between my brain and said constantly moving hole in my face rarely connect.  And even though I’m talking all the time and am going to tell you exactly what I think, I just have parts of me I tell no one.  And whether you want to think that about your spouse, sister or bestie, it’s the truth.

But just when I think I can keep a part of me hidden, I realize that I really do want to share it with someone. 

As you have read, the past year has been a hard one for this family and it isn’t getting any easier around here.  I try to be positive and keep the mantras “It could always be worse”  and  “So many people are less fortunate than I.”  Those are great mantras, not only because they are true but because they help me keep things in perspective.  If I didn’t say those to myself and others on a daily basis (and sometimes 15 times a day) I would complain all of the time.  It’s not that I don’t believe I can’t complain.  I do complain and cry and doubt and feel sorry for myself almost at some point everyday.  But if I didn’t keep a little perspective on just how damn good I have it, I would be a real Negative Nellie.

So while sitting in my seat at the last Ewomen conference(http://www.ewomen.net/) a few weeks ago, I was really having a hard time keeping it together. You know those times when you are listening to a sermon or a lesson and you can feel the Holy Spirit bearing down on you.  That voice telling you to listen up because the things being said are for your benefit.  Yeah, you know the one.  Sometimes I really want to give that voice a good pinch and say “Stop it, I’m trying to keep my composure and really not ruin my makeup by balling in the middle of all these people right now.”  Well, it was one of those moments. 

I had been thinking about how hard I have been praying, begging God to move in my life.  I mean seriously move.  Like find my husband an awesome job and put our life back to where it used to be, but like, a thousand times better.  And yes, there were several times when I would look at my prayer list and say to Him “God you know what is on this list and all the people that I want to offer up to you, so I’m just going to blanket pray for them and move on to praying for what I know you need to do for me.”  It’s the truth, I was spending a lot of time talking and very little time listening. So while at this conference I was listening to a woman talk about how she was begging God for a sign.  She was holding on to the end of her rapidly fraying rope and she couldn’t understand why God was not speaking to her.  And then she said something that really just bowled me over. I mean I sat in shock for like five minutes after she said this.  She said “If you are begging God to speak to you but you can’t hear Him, maybe you don’t know Him well enough to recognize His voice.”  She probably said it much more eloquently that that, hence the reason she gets paid to speak to thousands and I write this blog for myself and the two other people that skim it.  But I digress… She was saying, if you are spending all this time praying and begging God for direction, for Him to speak to you and give you a sign, then you need to know Him well enough to recognize His voice.  And how do we get to know Him?  By reading His word of course. 

Now I have a dear friend that doesn’t put his faith in the word much.  He says something to the effect that if God’s only communication to us is a book written by a bunch of sinners, then how are we supposed to believe in the things written.  And since my mind is simple and I have no problem accepting that the Bible is inspired word and that if God wanted it in there, He would have put it in there, I have a difficult time grasping the argument my friend makes.  I’m sure that there is a whole community of scholars that argue this point my friend makes all day long, but that falls on deaf ears with me.  Like I said, simple mind equals simple faith with me.  And since God calls us to have faith like that of little children, I am going to err of the side of the Bible being all I need to truly know my God.

The Bible is an amazing book to me.  A little confusing, a little mixed up if you read it in the order most Bibles are sold (try the Chronological Bible, it’s spliced up into an orderly timeline that walks you through when things actually happened.)  But it’s also a great read.  I mean c’mon, how many other books can you read about creation, love, murder, deceit, hate, adultery, war, sacrifice and even an “alien” encounter?  It’s seriously full of stupid men, conniving women, whiny cultures and a hero that keeps saving them all.  It has natural disasters, unexplainable phenomenon, plagues, and best of all a truly “happily ever after.”  And even after all of this, I don’t spend time reading it like I should.  And I don’t have the excuse of “I’m not really a reader.”  I can finish a book in one day. I am a voracious reader.  There are some authors that release a new book and I have it that day, neglecting my children and family so that I can read.  It’s sad to say then, that I have never done this so that I may read my Bible.

How am I supposed to get to know God, the one I’m pleading for help, if I’m not even going to read a book He wrote?  I mean seriously, if your husband, momma or best friend wrote a book, wouldn’t you read it?!?  After the speaker was done, I just could not get this thought out of my head.  I grew up in the church, going 3 times a week. I went to a Christian High School and Christian College where Bible classes are mandatory, so I know the Bible fairly well.  But in all honesty, I can’t say that I know God very well. I do know He is by my side, and I do know He keeps His promises.  But I also know that for someone that has been calling myself a Christian for years, I don’t know my Savior as well as I should.  And while I want to get better at this relationship, I do have the security in knowing that God knows me better than I know myself.  And regardless of how short I fall in my portion, He will never leave me.

A part of me is worried that I will not like what I find when I delve deeper into the word.  A part of me is scared that the prayers I have been praying are receiving answers and I’m not educated enough to see it.  I feel like I have found a missing puzzle piece, and I can’t wait to put it in the very middle and finally get the big picture.  Maybe you have had the same problem.  Maybe you love God and want your family to grow in the Lord.  Maybe you know the facts of the Bible, but haven’t taken the time to really study as to why God is who He is.  I challenge you to the same challenge I’m giving myself.  Make time everyday, to listen to Him.  Get your Bible, (not your phone or computer, you need a real book to do this exercise) and pray that God will show you what to read. Open your Bible up and turn the pages until you feel God speaking to you. Read until you feel you found why that portion was purposeful.  There may be times that you read and feel no real direction, those may be the days that what you read can bless someone else.  How will you know until you try?  Seek Him out, get to know our Creator and His voice will become clear to you.

 

Matthew 7:7&8

Ask, Seek, Knock

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.

Pride Goeth...

Before I fall into a huge swamp of self pity I scream to myself "Brakes!" and pull over at the edge of panic just past the town of desperation.  I'm thinking "What the Hell is wrong with me?"  Well, truth be told, I have a long list of what is wrong with me. But as of lately there has been this one big boulder in my path...

Life has not exactly panned out these past few months and there are days when I think nothing of it.  Then there are days when I am hanging on to my rapidly fraying rope (yes, I did steal that from Julia Roberts in 'My Best Friend's Wedding') and screaming my head off.  But I have yet to really wallow in that aforementioned murky swamp that is quite deceiving in its depth and density. I have had my moments.  There have been a few days that I am sad to say I have been quite snippy. I have snapped at a few friends and coveted even more than I care to share.  I am not proud of those moments.  But, for the most part, I have tried to hold my head up and keep my nose down and push forward while sliding backwards into the big mess that this life has afforded us.

Yet, the hardest thing I have given up in all of this is not a thing.  I absolutely do miss the small pleasures that a paycheck did afford. My Sonic happy hour trips and Target shopping splurges are a thing of the past. Heck, I can't even buy an I tunes download without having to calculate the next week's purchases to see if there is a small fissure in the budget.  No the hardest thing I have had to forgo is my pride.

I grew up in the path of a proud family. And while I never thought of that as a bad thing, simply because they were hard workers and earned every bit they had, it sometimes shocked me how I could hear that "Holier Than Thou" tone in some of things said around the table. I remember so many times feeling that good ole  fashioned shame of my sinful and rebellious nature, hanging my head in shame knowing I was worthless, and my grandmother would lean over and say "Hold your head up, girl.  God is proud of you."  It always did me good to hear it. Until, I over analyzed and wondered "Is He the only one?"

 It has taken me years of painful self discovery to realize that I'm not all that special.  That pride in myself is really something that I don't need.  That I am nothing but for the grace of God.  And while I don't always want to believe it simply because I am a prideful creature, it is enough that God is proud of me.

I have had to swallow my pride and ask my parents for money.  That sucks. (Forgive me, but I just could not think of a better way to say it.) It has never been something I have wanted to do.  My parents made it clear while I was growing up that they struggled all on their own, that they made do with what they had.  And in not so many words "Don't come here looking for a handout."  Imagine what fear I felt when I had to ask for gas money, for them to buy a box of diapers, or for them to pay for an oil change. I was paralyzed! And the answer was as if it were no big deal. In love, they have been giving more than I ever thought they would have to give. And while they haven't acted upset about helping us out, each time I spend hours weighing the need that I have. Is it really worth that inner turmoil when they are my parents?  Not at all. Have I convinced myself of this fact? Not at all.

 Everyday I am learning what a large sense of pride I have.  Everyday I am learning that this trial has so many layers, and that God is using this to show me a part of myself of which I was not fully aware.

Does this mean that all pride is to be condemned?  Most certainly not. Pride gets us up and showered and presentable and out to face the day. Be proud of your spouse and children.  Tell them how proud you are and be specific in what it is about them that gives you pride. (If you can not say it, then write it, everyone needs to hear this from their family.)  Be proud of your intelligence. If you feel you are not intelligent, then educate yourself. Find something that fascinates you and run with it! Be proud of your country. Regardless of its faults and governments this country is a fantastic place to live and you are beyond blessed to live here. (If you aren't proud, then please move.)  Be proud to be in a position to help people.  Regardless of how little you have, there is always someone with less.  Be proud to be a child of God.  If you aren't a child of God, seek Him out.  There is no greater sense of pride than knowing you are the child of a King.

I say all of this not to ask for money or gift cards that some of you have sent.  Believe me, I had to stomp all over my self worth to use those gifts.  I am beyond appreciative, but I am not fishing.

I want you to think about yourself in my situation.  Would you be too proud to ask for help?  Would you drive down to DHS and ask for Government assistance?  Would you be honest with your family, whether by DNA or blood of Christ, as to how you are struggling to fill your needs?  Would you be honest with your children as to why so many extracurricular activities have gone by the wayside?
Sometimes the high and mighty feeling you have, that feeling that you don't need help, that "You Got This," sometimes your lack of willingness to be served, is crushing the spirit of those that love you. Sometimes God needs not only to show you how short sighted you have been in your own life, but also in the lives of others.

Maybe your pride isn't as strong as mine when asking for help.  Maybe yours is about forgiveness you've been denying because you had the right to be upset.  Maybe your pride is in your appearance and possessions.  Maybe you put too much pride into your child and have made yourself too busy in their accomplishments to see others in need of an ego boost. It's possible your pride is your knowledge of and relationship with God, and you can't see those drowning for your own narrow mindedness of faith.

Do not be surprised when God answers a prayer with "I'm doing fabulous things, but your big head is in the way."  Do not lose sight of the grace God has given us.  Above all else we are called to be His.  

I have a lot of work to do on this hubris. I am not going to do it by myself.  In fact, mostly, I am going to pray that God continues to refine me.  I am going to continue to have faith that He knows exactly what He is doing and that I need to focus on being used along the way and not being in the way.

If I fall, at least I know God has a destination planned for the landing.  With Him, falling is just that.  With Him, falling and failing are not one in the same.

My Girls

Just a few of my favorite people, ever… How precious are they?

For my dearest

There is a pain so savage that a piece of your heart falls into the abyss never to return.  An affliction so terrible because it is not your own, yet your faith falters. Whether this is a new disappointment that is raw or an old wound punctured and left to bleed does not matter.  What you could only hope for is to give pieces of yourself to help. And since you know you cannot mend the pain, you lay yourself at the feet of Jesus.  You beg Him on behalf of the one you love.  You make compromises and pleas for their ravaged heart.  There is a pain so fierce that while you lay crying for their broken heart, you know that there is nothing that can be done.  There is no sadness like the one you are blanketed by when your friend mourns a piece of herself.  You can do nothing but sit by and hope that she does not follow her hopes and dreams into that tear filled grave.

Jonathan said to David, “Go in peace, for we have sworn friendship with each other in the name of the Lord, saying, ‘The Lord is witness between you and me, and between your descendants and my descendants forever. ’”

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

The Thing Is...

I don't write this blog for you.

I only partially write this for myself.

The title of this blog should be an indication of its purpose.

I ask my mother all the time things about when I was young.  Did I do this?  Was I this crazy?  Did you ever feel like your life was spinning out of control?  And 99.9% of the time her answer is "I don't know, Brandy, I'm sure you did/you were/I did."  She can't remember!  And why should she?  I'm 32 years old and she's had a lot going on in that time.

I want to learn from the feeling I have every time I ask these questions.  I am a little disappointed.  I want to know that my girls are on the same path as I was at this point in life.  I want to have my feelings of complete inadequacy validated.  But her mind (nor mine) is not the World Wide Web.  Where nothing goes to die.

So, I put my thoughts and my musings here.  You may think I'm ridiculous. You are probably right.  But I want to be able to go back and remember what my state of mind was during these formative years of my "Mommy" career.  And I will probably call myself a fool in the future.  I will probably be embarrassed about a post or two. I will probably forbid my children to read it until they have children of their own.  Nevertheless, I will not apologize for being my original self. I will not beg your forgiveness for my diarrhea of the mouth as one of my English teachers so eloquently stated.  I want my children to know their mother. I want the version that they love be the true version.  I do not want to be tempted by naysayers to tarnish the person that I am, flaws and all. No censorship on this page.  B

I write this for my girls. My hope is that you find a way to immortalize yourself for your children.  I do caution you however, to be true and steadfast in your work.  The beauty of the person that God made is the evolution of our mind and soul.

Just Because it's True...

You don't have to say it you know.  I struggle with this daily and I wonder when in the world am I ever going to learn to think before I speak and better yet just keep silent.  I have learned in the past year that just because it's true, doesn't mean you have to say it.  Believe me, I am all about the truth.  There was a time in my life that I wasn't but I'm making up for that now, trying to be a transparent person so that there's never any doubt about where I stand.

You may be wondering when these certain times are or why it is important to keep your fat mouth shut.  Let me enlighten you with a few anecdotes to illustrate my point.


*Struggling with my 3 kids ages 5 and under out the door of church one day, someone remarked "You really have your hands full."  And since I hate that remark and all things that blatantly state the obvious, I opened my mouth and said something comical right back.  Laughing at myself and my frustrations in front of everyone, so they all would know that I am fully aware that I do not have it all together.  And a person I value dearly said "This is the life you wanted."  And while she knows that I don't hold it against her at all, it still sort of stings, doesn't it?  Just because you wanted something, doesn't make it any more difficult to bear.  Don't we as humans just love to tell someone "I told you so."  It may very well be the truth, but don't say it.  Saying those 4 little words isn't going to make that other person feel better.  And if you are hoping to squish that person further down into their struggles, just say exactly that. So that they will then be aware that you are no friend of which to consort.  No one needs to be reminded that what may be their biggest endeavor is kicking their ass.  They are aware, don't state the obvious no matter how truthful.

*In a conversation with one of my closest friends I asked how her fertility battles (yes, when concerning fertility it's plural) were faring.  She gave me a quick run down of the latest disappointments.  I expressed how terrible I felt for her and that I was still praying for her.  She (mother of 1 very dynamic 3 year old) said in automatic response "I am very blessed."  Yes, she is.  She has a nice home, a good job, a great family and a beautiful healthy child.  But she still wants a baby.  And when she talks about this, people sigh and pat her on the back and say "But you are so blessed."  It's the absolute truth.  What is also the truth is that those words don't make her feel even fractionally better.  That just because she has 1 child doesn't mean that she shouldn't want 2 or 3 more.  Do not let words slip past your lips that may ever make anyone feel that they aren't grateful for what they already have.  Believe me, if you're talking to a mother, she is aware.  She is acutely aware of the blessings that have been so richly bestowed upon her.  She is not wrong for wanting more.

*A few weeks ago my husband and I were on our way home from a trip out of town.  I love to take these opportunities to get to know each other better or to work out the kinks in our relationship.  My husband does not. I always ask him questions trying to get him to open up about how he feels about our relationship, how I'm doing as a wife and mother, and what I can do to improve.  I always do this, saying to myself, that whatever he says I will not cry or sulk and I will try to take his words as constructive criticism. This mantra rarely works.  As he is telling me honestly what he wishes I were better at or how I could improve, I am seething in anger. I am thinking about all the times he has let me down, all the promises he hasn't kept and the things that he should be doing better.  I open my mouth to shoot back these facts in rapid fire so that my shortcomings pale in light of his and I quickly shut it. Simply put, I asked his opinion of me.  He never asked for me to give his job as a husband and father a performance review.  And he most definitely didn't ask for me to bring up things of the past, things he had apologized for.  For while those thoughts buzzing around in my mind were absolute truths, they would not have strengthened my relationship at all.  If you can't find a way to present faults of someone that you love without voicing their attributes two fold, then don't. Does your side need to be heard? Absolutely.  But if you are so busy thinking of the truths that apply to your spouse in a negative light, you can't possibly focus on a way to better yourself.  Don't say hurtful truths on the defense. Don't bring up the truths of the past that are supposed to be buried and gone.

*"I'm praying for you."  You may be praying for me and I sincerely hope that you are. I could use all the ear time with God as possible. In fact, I covet your prayers. But if in fact you aren't going to take a moment of your day to pray for me, then don't say it. Do  not   say   it.  No matter how at a loss for words you are or how well you mean, in that nanosecond before you blurt out that overused phrase you know that you won't pray for me, then don't say it.


And this one folks, is never true.
*My sister died when I was 11, in the fall of my 6th grade year. She was sick for 3 years and we knew the inevitable was just around the corner. I remember some awful things from the day she died and the days that follow. But probably the most terrible thing I remember is the day I returned to school. Everyone knew of course, and most just kept their distance. But one of my classmates came up to me and asked me some pretty graphic questions about my sister's death. I tried to answer and really just was overcome with emotion. It was at that point, seeing my grief, that this classmate said to me "I know exactly how you feel." And honestly, I was so flabbergasted. How could I have missed that I was in school with someone that had also lost her sister to rare adult form of leukemia? So, in earnest, I replied "Really, your sister died too?" And realization struck that girl and then myself as she said "Oh, no, I don't have a sister, I was just saying that." Imagine the anger I felt. Because the truth was she had no idea and never would. No one did and ever would. The truth is, no one, except our Heavenly Father above, knows just how you feel. So if you find yourself at a loss for what to say when tragedy hits, even if you have been in that exact same situation with the exact same circumstances, don't say it. "I know just how you feel" will want to pop out of that well meaning mouth of yours, don't do it. Look that person filled with grief in the eyes and say "I love you." Hug them, give them a simple nod, cry for their broken heart. But never say that you know their innermost feelings. It is truly impossible and it will do much more harm than good.


I am fully aware that this is the pot calling the kettle black.  I would not have said it if it were not true...

Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble? Job 2:10

Overworked, Overdrawn, Overextended and so Over It...

Ever feel this way?  If you are a friend of mine then you know my family has been experiencing some turmoil in the past month.  While we knew it was coming, it was still difficult news when my husband was let go from a job that he had worked very hard at for the past 11 years.  A promise was not kept and a relationship was broken.

That being said, things have been very difficult around here.  Financially, emotionally and unfortunately sometimes spiritually. 

I overdrew my account to put gas in my car so that we could go to Church.  How pathetic is that?  You want to say "I'm working to serve you faithfully, God, but yet you aren't blessing us."  When in fact that simply is not true. Yes, I have an overdrawn account and am behind on bills and feel like my husband may never find a job that will help us get ahead, much less make ends meet.  But the truth of the matter is, that I am blessed beyond mesure.  Overdrawn account?  At least I had money to put in the account at the beginning of the week.  At least I have a vehicle to drive, and a very nice one at that.  But the most important thing to be thankful for is that I have the freedom to worship God in a wonderful atmosphere with an amazing congregation of the people of God.

I don't know why this is happening to us. Yes, I have moments of panic and am very scared at times. I want the Lord to give us a job that he knows is best for our family.  But waiting on the Lord is very difficult. And then I look around at the messy little house and realize how much he continues to bless me. My goodness, I have so much stuff that I have run out of room to put it all!  And not just the stuff, but the healthy beautiful girls that He has given me.  And although we are struggling with unemployment, we have had some much needed family time.  The truth is I am not at the mercy of the individual that decided to let my husband go.  I am not even at the mercy of Satan who tempts me every day to curse God and ask him why he isn't blessing us more.  I am at the mercy of the Almighty, who is doing and will continue to do wonderful things in my life. 

When I am honest with myself, I see how unworthy I am and how ungrateful I can be.  God has chosen to humble me, to break me of some bad habits and to test my faith. Those are some very difficult pills to swallow.  But the amazing thing about that statement is, that He has chosen me. I can only hope and pray that I will not fail Him, that I will be a light, a beacon of His discipline, His love, His blessings and most importantly, His grace.

Challenge yourself to praise him in the good and trouble. You will not always be successful.  But our Creator knows us better than we know ourselves, be prepared for amazing things when you put your faith in him.

Proverbs 3

Proverbs 3

Wisdom Bestows Well-Being

¹ My son, do not forget my teaching,
but keep my commands in your heart,
² for they will prolong your life many years
and bring you peace and prosperity.

³ Let love and faithfulness never leave you;
bind them around your neck,
write them on the tablet of your heart.
⁴ Then you will win favor and a good name
in the sight of God and man.

⁵ Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
⁶ in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.^[a]

So I have a huge "to do" list

Let's face it, who doesn't?  Mine is so long, I about cry everytime I look at it.  So I thought I would break up my day by enjoying a little Pinterest surfing (setting a timer for 25 minutes so I know how long I've actually been on) while the baby is sleeping and the big girls are involved with destroying whatever it is that I've just cleaned.

I have a lot of new things I want to try and Pinterest is great for that.

I found a blog that is committed to homemade products and I look at them and think "I could definitely do this."  So I'm going to try to be a homemade mama on a few things this year.

I will also say that I am trying to get up earlier now.  Not just on the days that the girls have preschool.  I want this time to focus on some light housekeeping and laundry, and of course coffee consumption. If I can get 2 loads done before the girls wake up, I won't feel so overwhelmed by it during the day when I should be doing my primary job of mothering.  I am trying to encourage my husband to do the same so that maybe he can help with a bit of the work and I can have the feeling of teamwork that I so desparately want for our marriage. 

That being said, I have to go load the dishwasher and prepare the daily art project (more on that later.)

Check out this blog! You may think I'm crazy (it's been proven that I really am anyway) but I find it very cool!

Home Made Mamas

Happy Making!

Note to self...

My friend and I (she shall remain nameless as to not incriminate her, but you know who you are) have a bit of a joke that skinny moms with it all together have ugly children. And while this isn't really true (since I have plenty of skinny friends with beautiful children) it sort of makes me feel better when I think this. It's cruel I know, because really all babies are precious and beautiful in their own way. But, it's a guilty pleasure and just a bit of an inside joke between two best friends that aren't skinny and have messy houses but most certainly have beautiful babies.



So that's my confession. I know it's strange to confess this, because in reality, everyone has this guilty pleasure. You may be skinny and rich but look at other women and think it would be nice to say what's on your mind so you make up something in your head to justify them having something you don't. You may have it all together, but feel a little trapped by your "obsessive compulsive" needs to have everything in its place. And you may be like me, everything is out of control and you feel overwhelmed by the peer pressure to get your crap together.



In my house, we have very little organization. It's a complicated balance of laundry, dishes, toys, books and general chaos. I have tried, believe me, I have tried to be organized. I really do hate that I don't have it all together. It is just against my nature to put things in place and to have a schedule. I have a lot of strong points, but labeling, categorizing, and structuring things are not among them. I feel the unspoken competition among my friends to join the club and have a clean house.



I go to one of my closest friend's houses and seriously nothing is out of place. The bathrooms are always clean, the carpet is always vacuumed and she has a bigger house, a nicer car and a better body than I do to boot. I leave feeling pretty low sometimes. But I know her well, and know that she doesn't keep her house this way just to make herself look superior. I know that it is just in her personality to keep things in order. I also know that while she has these strengths, she also has weaknesses. And while I don't see them on a consistent basis (she is my dear friend, I look and see the best in her because that's what friends do, see earlier post) I know she has them. I know because no one is perfect. I know because she tells me about them. I know because while she does seem to have it all together, she also has beautiful children.



So, I'm going to be myself. My messy, unorganized, crazy self. Will I freak out from time to time that DHS could shut me down any minute? Yes. Will I lose it on my children and husband to help me get this place in somewhat of respectable nature? Most definitely. But what I am going to strive to do is the laundry and the dishes and the other menial tasks that make up my day as best I know how. I will also read the huge ever growing stack of books. Step over the pile of towels on the floor. Ignore the several layers of dried toothpaste in the girls' bathroom. And most of all, embrace my inner self, invite my friends over and hold my head up high. Maybe I am overweight, have frizzy hair, live in a tiny house and never seem to have a clean pair of matching socks, but my children are beautiful. And so is my life.

You've got a Friend...

Isn't Toy Story a wonderful movie?  How many have cried at the end of Toy Story 3 when Andy chooses to leave his toys with the little girl?  It's me, the sentimental sap. There are a ton of themes to that series, but as the song suggests "You've Got a Friend in Me."  Seriously, you do.  Ok, maybe you don't know me and maybe if you do, I annoy you. How that could ever be the case I do not know, because I am just a constant joy to be around.

You know that friend that you've had since you were a kid? Maybe through school or church that no matter what happened in life, you always were connected.  That when everything else in you life was going to Hell in a hand basket, they were the constant, they were your compass to your true North.  Or that friend that you knew in High School that you liked but never really fused into true blue friends until later in life when it just seemed you couldn't go a few hours without having to tell them something.  Or those friends that you can be totally honest with, that you have no qualms telling them the awful truth about something you've done, or want to do.  I have these friends. I didn't always.

When I had my firstborn, Remle, we were blessed with a huge shower and tons of well wishers, but when it came to the birth and getting that projectile vomiting demon home, I didn't have many people outside of my husband and mother.  13 months later we brought our preemie, Daily, home and I was in much of the same situation.  Too far away from church to ever really be involved and too scared to get in the car and go anywhere with a 1 year old and a newborn. When we had Frankie though, my experience was so different. I had so many people surrounding me, begging to help.  It was wonderful!

I credit this difference to my relationship with God, my husband and my church family. No, not everyone I'm friends with goes to church with me (just 98% of them.)  But after finding my church home, I realized that I could ask God for friends.  It seems silly. I mean, seriously, how could a crazy, extrovert like me go for so long without friends?  It's simple now that I can look back. I wasn't in the right place, I wasn't searching for the right people.

Do I love my life?  Absolutely. Am I always saying that on here? Not so much. But be aware that before I type anything on here, I have vented to at least 3 of my closest friends.

If you're not sure what to look for, let me give you some pointers.  Find someone that will make you laugh. Laughter truly is the best medicine. Find someone that you feel you can be truthful with. This may take a little time since it can be difficult to trust, but start small and build from there.  Find someone that is your same body type.  If not for any other reason so that you can borrow clothes, but also so that you can identify with that person's self consciousness.  Find someone who is on the same sleep schedule as you.  If you're a night owl and want to get out of the house after 9 but all of your friends are asleep, you might end up on Peopleofwalmart.com because they weren't there to send you back in your house to change clothes.  And of course, find someone that is a gift from God.  Whether it be at your church or someone you reconnect with.  It could be that friend that you've always had, but never thought about truly embracing.  Whatever you do, get them.

Because one day your whole family will be sick and you'll need a friend to run to the drugstore for you.  Or you'll be in the hospital and your parents are out of town with your sick grandmother and you need someone to keep your 3 darling children. Or you'll be on the brink of killing your husband and need someone to call to tell you how bad prison food is. Or there will be a stupid movie you really want to see and need a friend to indulge you. Or you'll be in the shower and slip and fall and you'll need that friend who won't mind seeing you naked to come and help you up.  There is a common theme: Need. No man is an island. You can not go through life without good compadres.

All of that being said, be a great friend.  Don't let people down. Don't get upset when they put their family first. Don't be selfish with your time together.  Don't expect them to agree with you on everything. And if you do anything, DO be a friend that Jesus would want to have. Pray for your friends.  Because believe me, they need it, and so do you.

My Husband Won't read this....

So I don't have to worry about the things I say about him on here.  There are so many wonderful things to say about him.  Seriously.  But I won't be saying those today. 

As I sit here, I realize that I'm bitter and grouchy.  But what else is new?  You know how you start the day with a positive outlook, trying to smile and be sunshine and rainbows in your family's day.  And then around mid-morning you feel the crap sinking in. I mean c'mon, how hard is it to pick the towel up off the floor. Or put away the coffee creamer, especially when you were not just the last, but the only one to use it.  How much effort would it take to send a quick text or email saying how much you appreciate your stay at home slave. Oops, excuse me, stay at home domestic goddess.
Are ya feelin' me? (I could seriously go on for hours, and if you're my close friend, you can attest to that fact.)  And I also realize that the title of this blog is not "For you ungrateful slobs that I married and gave life to."  So, I digress.

Being a full time mother is a thankless job.  Those of you that get to leave the house, even if for only one day a week are so lucky.  But you probably feel differently, so I won't elaborate on how I crave my old desk and adult interaction for 8 consecutive hours.  What I will do is be thankful for my mother.  She did the same job when I was little. She cleaned, cooked, loved, punished, taught, directed, read, colored, laughed, cried and most of all, mothered.  I struggle to be thankful everyday that my husband works at a very stressful job so that I can stay home. I struggle to not be jealous of my friends that have it all together. I struggle (really struggle) to not be angry with my family for what seems like blatant disrespect for how hard it is to do this job. 

What I want to say, I would regret, because in the end, I love my family.  I know that I won't have them like this forever. I know that they are one day going to blame me for all the mistakes I made when I was just trying my best.  I know that I will want to take back every harsh correction and every angry word.  I know that I will wish that I could sit and read with them, play soccer with them, push them on the swing and lay in bed and talk about all the wonderful things in our life. I know that my clean house and laundry are minuscule in the grand scheme of things.  I know all of these things, but all of these things are sometimes necessary to be a good stay at home mom.  Sometimes I have to ignore my children so that I can get supper ready and fold the clothes.  Sometimes I have to fake it till I make it just so that I can sit in my closet and cry after everyone has gone to bed.  Sometimes I am so pulled in every direction that I want to run away.  Sometimes I panic thinking that my children will remember that I was angry, bitter, depressed and worst of all unloving.

I don't know how to fix the epidemic of the overflowing laundry or the less than award winning meals.  I don't know how to manage my time better so that my children are brilliant and well behaved and there is not a single speck of dust anywhere. I don't know how to be skinny, pretty and remember to smile and say a kind word even when I feel like saying something I dare not write on this post.  What is the answer?  What could the million dollar remedy be?

I will leave the prior question unanswered.  But I will ask you this. Are you feeling the pressure that society and undoubtedly our spouse and children put on us?  If your answer is yes (and let me help you... it is) then I challenge you to take a deep breath.  I challenge you to count to 7. I challenge you to compliment yourself on a job well done.  One day, they all will. One day they will understand that you gave up so much of yourself to be what they needed. One day, God will call you home and when you gaze upon His face, He will say "Well done, my good and faithful servant."

Do all things to the glory of Him who saves you.


For the record, I know I've posted something similar to this in the past, but I needed to write it again.  It's my blog and I can do what I want to. :)

You are More

Ever wish you could change your personality?
Like that short lived sit-com "Samantha Who?"  Get hit by a car and go into a coma and wake up a week later with total amnesia. Start over, the lot of your past mistakes wiped clean. I used to want that every day of my life.
I was a survivor, though barely, of a painful divorce and had no direction. I looked to people I called my friends and they had some very shallow answers.  I tried to find a place in church and the people I connected with seemed to be floundering around in life just as I was. I was miserable. I had no future. I spent my nights out at the bar, sharing my bed with whomever was willing and sinking further into the pit of loneliness and despair.  In one of many arguments my mother asked "Have you no shame?" My response was to push my family further away.  But in truth, I had shame.  I was consumed in shame.
I had no idea how to get out of the depths I was in. I couldn't go back to my religious upbringing because I wasn't raised with that type of God. It wasn't my parents' fault, I had been piggybacking their faith all that time. I had met the Holy Spirit a few times while at youth events or in college. Yet those few meetings seemed grossly overshadowed by the horrible wrongs of my past and present.
So, I got married again. I involved my parents in my life again and tried to be faithful to the churchgoing person I used to be. I tried for a baby for over three agonizing years and during that time I begged and pleaded for God to grant my request. Not realizing that all this time, I was still in the bottom of that pit.  Had I changed my circumstances? Yes, absolutely. Had I changed my heart? Maybe fractionally, at least I was praying again. I was faithful to my husband and I put in my attendance at church. But the Spirit wasn't there.
Then I had a baby. Her name was Remle Anne and she was perfect. The best thing I had ever made. And at that moment of her birth, God changed my name.
It was a slow process. No one can change their personality. I was still the loud, obnoxious, outgoing, quick to anger, impulsive, loving, fun person that I had always been. But now I belonged to God. I had the burden in my heart to show my child what a woman of God should be. And I tried so hard to do so. I wasn't perfect. In my transformation, I left my husband behind. We grew further and further apart. I couldn't understand why he didn't see the better me. The new life I wanted for us and our now two children.
What separated us and then brought us back together was our new church. The church was full of imperfect people loving a perfect God. I jumped in with both feet. Bringing my husband and children in tow. Was there resistance at first? Yes, definitely. Did I forget to compromise and listen? Always. But God was changing me, over and over again. The Spirit was there, working in me and in my marriage. It took a few years to get us to a good place. We still have our struggles. But for the most part, we have learned to put God in the equation first.
My new theme song in Tenth Avenue North's "You are More"
The chorus is:

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

Toby Mac sings a song "Lose My Soul"
I don't want to gain the whole world, and lose my soul,
Don't wanna walk away, let me hear the people say.
I don't want to gain the whole world, and lose my soul,
Don't wanna walk away, let me hear the people say.

But Christ came in range, we said yes now we changed,
Not the same, even though I made a fall,
Since I got that call, no more Saul, now I'm Paul.

We sing a song in church "I Will Change Your Name"
‘I will change your name
You shall no longer be called
Wounded, outcast
Lonely or afraid
I will change your name
Your new name shall be
Confidence, joyfulness
Overcoming one
Faithfulness, friend of God
One who seeks my face.”

I relate to all of these words and so much more. Am I perfect? Never. Am I called to try to be like Jesus? Everyday. And everyday I fall short. But God has changed my name. I am no longer shameful, beat down, hopeless. Now, thanks to my Father, my King, my Savior, I am more. I am so much more.

What do you want your new name to be?

Been a long long time

So I know I totally suck at blogging, but I hope that I can be better if I try to keep it short and sweet.
I have had a very busy year, made a new baby and kept the other 2 alive.
I seem to be busier each day. I have become even more involved in our church and I can physically see the way God is blessing our lives every day.
Over the Christmas holiday, my sister, mother and I, took my 3 girls and my sister's son, Cooper, to have their portrait made. It was a recipe for disaster, but the whole ordeal wasn't too bad.
In these pictures the kids ages are Remle, 4 years, Daily, 3 years, Cooper 8 months and Frankie 3 months.
After the pictures were taken, we sat down to look at them and I just kept saying "Oh my goodness, She's beautiful!" about Frankie (Cupcake.)  I am pretty sure the guy at the studio thought I was crazy, but I was just overwhelmed at how great the pictures turned out. Hope you enjoy!
There will be more to follow on our new and last addition to the family.

God Bless!

China

I am so proud of my cousin and his wife. Thomas and Callie Mitchell are teaching English in Hangzhou, China. I miss them both, but in a recent conversation with Thomas he expressed how much they love it over there. I was intrigued with all he had to say about the culture and the people they are building relationships with.

Check out their blog http://mitchellstochina.blogspot.com/

Love to you both!

Rose

My grandmother, Rose Carpenter, hasn't been herself since my grandfather died. It actually started before that, but since my grandfather was so sick, we didn't much notice. She lives in a newly built "mother-in-law" wing with her youngest daughter. There are days that are good but mostly my grandmother is someone I don't know. Alzheimer's is a terrible disease. It makes me sad to think how my beloved grandmother, my Mamaw, has been robbed of truly experiencing my children. She was always a great listener, never seemed to judge, knew what I was thinking before I said it, and gave great advice.


My mother wrote a paper as part of a school assignment in September of 1992. I think that the assignment was to write about someone you admired. I have read this paper for years, as Mamaw kept notes, cards and pictures tacked up around the house. She had this paper laminated.


Rose, my mother-in-law, packs in an incredible amount of love in one day. She has the endurance of a twenty-year-old; yet, she is three times that age. Up by daylight, she takes a moment to write an encouraging letter to someone who is ill or has lost a loved one. Afterwards, she may go visit someone in the hospital or take someone a delicious meal she has prepared. She always enjoys going out to eat lunch with a group of her friends, and they discuss the hardships of the people that go to the church she attends. By mid-afternoon she has finished her daily tasks of cleaning her humble home and has worked eagerly in her flower garden to make it beautiful for all eyes to see. She delights in feeding her fowl, feathered friends and giving them fresh water to drink and bathe in. In the late afternoon, she has a scrumptious meal waiting for her hungry, hard working husband. Everything is homemade or home grown from the bountiful garden she harvests every year. She works hard in her garden from early spring to late fall. She has an ample supply of canned and frozen good for her family, which consists of about thirty people. In the evening, it seems as though her mind is passionately searching out things to do for those around her. Sewing is a pure delight for her; especially, when she is making a new, frilly dress for one of her seven granddaughters. She sometimes sews diligently into the night because she can hardly wait to see the big smiles on her granddaughters’ faces and to see them proudly wear them to church on Sunday morning. She always spends a few minutes each night reading her Bible and soaking in the message she receives. After a very gratifying day, she lays her tired, aching body down, and she contemplates what love she can give tomorrow.



My Aunt Susan, Aunt Nancy and Mamaw


I am truly indebted to my Aunt Susan, Aunt Nancy, Uncle Ray and my Father and their spouses for taking care of my grandparents. I can only hope that I can serve my parents in such a dedicated way when the time comes. My true comfort is that one day in Heaven, my grandmother and I can talk again as we used to. We will hold hands and tell each other all of our secrets the way we did when I thought things would never change.


I love you Mamaw, thank you for everything you've taught me. I hope I can make you proud.

Uncle Matt

Three weeks ago I went to Auburn, AL to spend the week at my sister's house. VBS time had come in full force, and I, being the wonderful mother that I am, was not about to let my girls miss it. We drove 5 1/2 hours nonstop. This was the weekend after the big storm. I had no power at the house and had been awake since 5 am as to have a garage sale. Needless to say, I was slapping myself and singing children's songs at the top of my lungs to make it to Lydia's without passing out from exhaustion. We arrived Saturday evening and that next week was one of the best of my life.

Lydia married a man that none of us really understood. We couldn't tell if he understood us either. I have a large extended family. We are notorious for being without filter between our mind and mouth. We are loud and bossy and emotionally involved in each other's lives. I'm surprised he didn't bow out gracefully after his first "Carpenter" encounter. And since he took my sister 6 hours away from us to Kingston, TN to be a youth minister and her a teacher, I have run the gamut in my feelings and thoughts towards him. Now I can safely say that he is one of my closest friends.

Matt is an amazing person, he has his faults, we all do. He's a tightwad (which is why he has more money than I do) and this isn't necessarily a bad thing except that it has rubbed off on my sister and she never seems to just buy anything on a whim. I can't ever tell when he's angry with me. I don't know how often he has been, but my sister had to tell me of such occasions since I never noticed a change in his behavior towards me.

But though he may have faults (I'm sure Lydia could think of a few more, as most wives often can,) he is a blessing to me.

The week of VBS was wonderful. Lydia had to work and so after she left, Matt stuck around to play with the girls while I got ready. At their congregation, any children under 1st grade must have a parent volunteering to help with VBS. So though I did get rid of my 2 girls for 2 1/2 hours everyday, I did have 9 4 year olds to keep a watch on. And after VBS, each day Matt sat in the back of the auditorium with the girls so that I could collect their things and also collect myself. He came home early to play everyday. We went to parks, the lake, shopping, church, out to eat and for walks.

My sister is well known for wimping out when it comes to stamina with my children. I often dread visits to her house because while it starts out nice, she is tired of us after a few days. I don't blame her, I wake up everyday talking myself into my job. But even she was more tolerable of the 2 manics that had invaded their home.

Uncle Matt never tired of his adoring fans. The girls love him. The ask about him everyday, want to call him, look at pictures of him, and watch video of times when he is around. Likewise his love for them is never ceasing. I could tell he was tired at the end of the day. Yet never did he refuse to read to them, or get them more juice, or dry them off from their bath. He helped them with every meal and never once complained about all the attention he was receiving. My girls are so happy when he is around. I trust him completely with them. I have never heard him raise his voice or become impatient with them. I am so proud that Matt is their uncle.

I am so blessed that he is not only my brother-in-law, but also my friend. It has been an unlikely match, this friendship. But I know that he will always ask the right question, or listen attentively, or call just to say hello. I know he prays for me and my family. I know that God had a definite plan when he put Lydia and Matt together. Not just for their lives as a couple, but for me and my girls.

Life is just more fun with you in it, Uncle Matt. We love you.

Running

So don't read this title and think "What?!? Brandy has started running?" Absolutely not. My knees wouldn't take it. But I have learned that the figurative phrase "running around" is actually more than some make it out to be.

Sometimes I like to think that I'm super-mom. The one who can do anything, fix anything, cook anything, and make everything special. Alas, I am not super-mom. Yes I have had my glory moments, I have also spent a good bit of time crying and begging God to make it easier. I've said before that I feel like being a mom is a huge sacrifice. I honestly believe that, but I also am blessed by my life. It isn't always easy, well, mostly never easy.

Y'all know how it is. Just the other day I took a girlfriend (newlywed and childless) of mine to the zoo with my two hell raisers. Our estimated time of departure was 10:30, I made it to her apartment by 11:15. We did the polar bear half of the zoo and went back out to the car to have our picnic lunch. Lunch only took about an hour to eat. And while she sat quietly and ate her lunch, I fussed and fought with my two girls and managed to cram a picked over sandwich and some strawberries down before it was time to go. The original plan was to return to the zoo, but after all of that I was exhausted. We decided to go to Old Navy to use our 5$ off coupons. I don't know if she'll ever go with me and the girls anywhere again. I never understand my friends that take their children shopping. Mine are terrible! They whine, cry, scream and somehow manage to pull a whole rack of clothes to the ground. I felt bad for my friend who was at our mercy. I could tell by the end of the day, she was ready to escape. So if my childless friends are exhausted from 5 hours of quality time with my children, why don't I get to be?

It seems like a mother is just expected to be exhausted, to be stressed, to be running around insane with 50 things to do and enough time to complete 2. I'm tired of running. No more running. This is my mantra every evening when around midnight I collapse into bed. Only to lay there eyes wide open, thoughts of all of tomorrow's tasks.
I've figured it up. I have 14 hours of the day to myself. Typically I try to stick to the rule of 5 around here. 5 hours of awake time before I make them nap and 5 hours from the time they wake up 'till they go to bed for the night. so really that's only 10 hours of the day that I have to be a mommy. The rest of the 14 hours could be spent wisely. Maybe if I made out a schedule, I could get it all done. You know, sweep the floors, mop the kitchen, rotate the toys, change the bed linens, do all the laundry, iron, do the dishes, clean out the fridge, organize the garage, scrub the tubs and toilets, rotate the girls clothes, shop for clothes, dust, vacuum, make 3 meals a day, garden, shower, get dressed, keep up a side business, make myself presentable, lose weight, study the Bible, catch up with friends, serve others, and get a good night's rest. Now I'm sure I've left stuff out. But if I did all that, I would spend about 30minutes on each task, including sleep.
I often argue with my spouse about how much a stay at home mom would actually get paid if you broke it down. Check this article out that says the figure is $122,172. ( http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/life/what-is-a-mothers-work-really-worth-456608/ )

But really, recognition and money aren't the point- although wouldn't the above figure solve a lot of issues in this house. I just want to know what's important. What do I do first? Do I spend all of the 10 hours with my children? Loving them and playing with them and feeding them and teaching them. Or do I break it up? Or do I give them my undivided attention for half of the day and work on the rest of the stuff (see the long list above) after nap time. Whatever it is, I find it difficult to strike a true balance. I find it difficult to fully complete one of those tasks in an efficient manner.
I do allow myself some downtime. My house is far from perfect (I should be cleaning instead of writing this.) My garden needs to be weeded, I need to do several loads of laundry and my bathroom rarely gets a thorough cleaning. I go out with friends some and I do get a babysitter to come when I really just have too much to do. But I wish in the mean time, I could find some peace. I wish I could be the mom who let everything go. Who only took one thing at a time, who never let the dishes, or the bills, or the yard hold her up from enjoying her babies. I pray for patience with myself. I pray for peace in this tumultuous environment. I pray for the understanding of what it means to embrace these gifts that my girls are.
I pray for these things and for you.

Ephesians 6:13 (The Message)
13-18Be prepared. You're up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it's all over but the shouting you'll still be on your feet. Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, and salvation are more than words. Learn how to apply them. You'll need them throughout your life. God's Word is an indispensable weapon. In the same way, prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long. Pray for your brothers and sisters. Keep your eyes open. Keep each other's spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out.

Mother Lover

Ok so I got the title from a text I received today from a dear friend of mine, but I thought it was cute, so I'm claiming it.

On this so special of days I must of course tell you about my mother.

Paula is a rare breed. She is the mother of 3 and wife to a serious crazy man. Unfortunately for her, her children couldn't be more different (see the earlier post concerning Lydia.)

In 1991, my mother buried her youngest daughter, Hannah Rae, after a 3 year battle with Leukemia. I can't begin to describe how she was those 3 years. I can only say she was amazing and Hannah was the luckiest to be born to my mother. After Hannah died and a couple of years passed, my mother went back to school. Actually she never really went to college after her High School graduation. She married at 17 and she graduated with a class she'd never known because she and my dad moved shortly after their wedding. So when I was 14 and embarking on my new experiences in a new private school, she was taking the plunge of academics also. She was brilliant. The best grades, president of the Nurses' Association at Northwest Community. She received a scholarship to travel to London to study oncology nursing. She went to work after graduation and hasn't stopped since. She's worked every nursing job you can think of. She's been a nurse on the cardiovascular intensive care floor (the place you go after your triple bypass). She's been a home health care nurse. She's instructed CPR, worked as a shot nurse. And now for the past few years, she has administered chemotherapy to cancer patients. She is an amazing nurse.

As my friend, one of my best, she is fun. We laugh, too much. We yell, a lot. We cry, sometimes. But most of all, we just spend time together.

When I heard stories of mine and my sisters' births, she described her mother-in-law as the Mother Teresa of baby nurses. My grandmother would clean and cook and never hog the baby. Always my mother would tell me this. And mother would always say "When you have your babies, I will do the same for you." When Remle was born, I was having much difficulty trying to get her to breastfeed. Since my mom had breastfed all 3 of us, she had to be an expert, right? I can't tell you how many times my mother sat by my side and grabbed my boob and shoved Remle's head at a neck-breaking angle. It never worked, I cried and came close to violence a few times. The first few weeks of Remle's life I didn't hold her much. The baby pretty much spent her "mommy bonding" time with her "Lolly." I was mad then, and amused now. When Daily was born, she was in the NICU for the first week, so when I brought her home, I was alone. Remle was in daycare and I decided that I would be fine with just me and Daily. But I asked my mom to take off of work on the 1st week that Remle would be home with me full time. So she did. She also managed to get a stomach virus. So not only did I breastfeed a 3 week old baby and take care of a 14 month old, but I also nursed my sick mother back to health. I was exhausted and at my wits-end then, now I laugh in memory.

My mother is a hard worker. Her garden is a thing to behold. She works hard for her family. Always remembering our favorite things to eat. Making 4 different desserts and 3 different types of potatoes at Christmas. She remembers the little things. She has taught me how to celebrate even the smallest events. To make each birthday, Valentine's Day, Easter, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Fourth of July and so on a special time. I learned how short life can be and my mother treasures each moment. She truly understands the sweetness of life.

My mother is a "Lolly" she always has a smile for my babies. She always has more love to give. She always seems to know exactly what they want. My girls love her and can never get enough.

My mother is a great daughter. Travelling 8 hours to get her mother after an ice storm left her without power. Making the same drive to take her to a doctor's appointment. Thinking of the smallest things and hoping to make her own mother feel special.

There are a million stories I could tell you about my mother. You would laugh and cry and beg for more. For me, she is a constant source of frustration and humor. I love her.

My true hope is that I have learned how to be so giving and loving and fun. I need more fun in my life, and my mother is always willing to give it.

Update

So I have seriously been working on a post since the middle of March. I can't seem to get it right and I think that I'm entirely too emotional to get through it right now. That being said, I'll put it aside and focus on the lighter side of life.

The big thing that I recently did was leave my two children in the care of my two very capable aunts to go on a 4 day cruise with my sister and mother. Lydia and I bought the cruise for mom last October (her 50th birthday,) but we chose to go in April to give ourselves time to prepare. And by prepare I mean lose as much weight as possible.

So beginning in January (because why would you start before the holidays?) my mother and I went into Death Com 5 mode and lost as much weight as possible. I don't know how much she lost, she looks great though. I am proud to say that I lost 45lbs. I'm also ashamed to say that while I lost that much weight, I still need to lose more.



Needless to say, much fun was had by all. It was very difficult for me to leave my girls. A few weeks before the trip I told Remle that I was going on a big trip and she was going on a little trip. And every time her response was "But I want to go on the big trip with you!" It just about broke my heart. I was a bit grouchy the first little while, I really missed them. I needed the break, but I haven't been away from them for more than a few hours before.



We drove to Florence, AL to drop off the girls at my Aunt Susan's house. My grandmother lives there with her and my Aunt Nancy had come down to help with the babysitting. My Aunt has a nice place out in the country. There is a cute little dachshund and plenty of gravel and yard to play in. We loaded them up with groceries, clothes, toys, books, crafts, medicine, and of course the run down on the ins and outs of being Remle and Daily. After a couple of hours of getting them settled, we left for Auburn to spend the night at Lydia's. Mom and I had quite an adventure just making the 4 hour trip to Lyd's. When we arrived at Lydia's, we made her try on dresses and show us what she packed and ask Matt to go get us Sonic for dinner. We were already having fun.
The next morning we packed up and left for Mobile. We got to the cruise terminal and stood in various lines like cattle for what seemed like hours. Finally we were boarding the ship. Our room was fine, nothing fancy, I did have to sleep on the floor. Well, it was a cot on the floor. And we unpacked and readied ourselves for the emergency drill. We were a bit confused and had to be told to come out of the room and bring our life jackets. They kept talking about our muster stations, but we had no idea which one was ours. (We finally figured it out on the 3rd day of our 4 day cruise. It was clearly labeled on the inside of the closet we opened about 50 times a day in big bold letters.) We went to dinner dressed up every night. We took professional pictures at every photo stand they offered. We ate every meal in the dining room. We consumed unbelievable amounts of soft serve chocolate ice cream. It was available 24 hours a day! We danced, sang karaoke, went to shows and laid out in the sun. We did have a lot of fun.








I was not sad to come home, I was so ready to see my girls. We were back in Auburn by lunchtime and decided to do a little shopping and spend the night hanging out with Lydia and Matt.








The next morning Mom and I headed to Florence. I was so excited the closer we got!

The girls of course were huge. Daily had grown a whole size! Her feet were bigger and she was talking so much. Remle now has the worst country accent. Everything she says has an extra vowel or two in it.

My girls were glad to see me. But I think that they enjoyed their time away too. I hope that I give them their special time with and without me. I thought that I would have no problem dropping them off and leaving them. I thought that I would be so glad for a break and peace and quiet. But the truth is, I missed my chaos. Remle and Daily, no matter how wild they are, are such a gift. I'm proud I'm their mommy.



Remle is talking non stop and has learned so many new things. Everyday she is closer to spelling her own name. She loves being outside now that the weather is nice. And she loves to help with all of my household chores. She likes to sleep with a large blanket over her crib now. Her "tent" has to be just right. She still takes a pacifier when sleeping. And during the course of the day if she's quiet, I've learned that she just went to bed so that she can have some alone time with her pacis. Remle has a deep fascination with insects. She has been bitten several times (although, fingers crossed, not yet stung.) She loves to pick them up and let them crawl on her. I'm trying to let her do her thing to an degree. I'm glad she is in touch with the smallest of living things. We worked on potty training for a couple of weeks and pretty much were trained in the tee-tee department. But for whatever reason, she no longer wants to do it, so I didn't push it. Hopefully she'll change her mind soon, as this 2 year old wears 3 and 4t clothing and the biggest diapers (size 6) are starting to get tight. :)


Daily talks over Remle. Full conversations are had between these very good friends and terrible enemies. They love each other one minute and maim each other the next. Daily is my climber. It is not unusual to find her on top of the kitchen table, or trying to climb into Remle's bed. She does every big slide that her sister can do. She is full steam ahead all day long. She loves her babies. Her latest favorites have the silky hair like Barbie. She had her favorite that we called "yellow baby" that was so tattered that I went to find more. I found them on clearance and bought nine of the same type (Disney Soft and Sweet.) The Easter bunny also brought her a Tinkerbell that has seen some better days. She calls Remle "mimi" and spends plenty of time screaming at Mimi for something unforgivable I'm sure. Her hair is not curly like Remle's, it's growing out and is constantly in her eyes. She rips out whatever bow or elastic I put in to keep her visibility clear. I can't wait until it is long enough for a full ponytail or to stay behind her ears. She's a mommy's girl and I'm careful not to play favorites, but love that she wants to cuddle me.

As I have said before, I'm blessed. God knew I needed the break, but also knew I needed the insanity. It just wouldn't be perfect any other way.