Kim 365

Often the best solution is the simplest one.
We have two chairs in our living room. They’re incredibly comfortable, work great, but were starting to look pretty worn out. the problem was that the covers were coming apart in the front. I submit exhibit A.

You can understand why I was not happy with the way they were looking. I thought my options were:

a) Sew new covers, or

b) Buy new ones from Ikea.

The problem with the first option is that it would require a lot of time, and there is potential for me to have an emotional breakdown if things don’t go perfectly with the sewing project. Not that it’s ever happened before…
The problem with the second option is that they don’t make replacement covers for these particular chairs, so I would have to attempt to make covers for a different style of chair fit onto the ones we have. On top of that, these chairs were only worth $50 each brand new, and I wasn’t keen on spending $40 per chair just to replace the cover. On top of that is the fact that they are not available online, the nearest Ikea is five hours away, and if they didn’t fit I would have to get them back to the store somehow to return them. I was starting to think that awful frayed edge didn’t look so bad after all.

As it turns out, there was a third option: sew a new seam for the front of the chair. That’s it. No emotional breakdown, no 10 hour round trip, no money out of pocket. And, voila! These chairs are like new!

Clay’s grandma, we call her Nanny, sent us home yesterday evening with a bag of jam jars. Aren’t the colours beautiful? They remind me of precious jewels.

I have experimented with making jam, but it has not become a regular part of my life. I suppose the necessity has not presented itself – our pantry stays fully stocked thanks to Nanny! Peach, strawberry, raspberry jam, and a jar of crab apple jelly – I can’t wait to toast some bread, spread on the butter and jam, and get eating!

I read a blog post one time about the irony of the modern independent woman. It’s proving impossible for me to track it down right now so I will do my best to blunder through re-telling you the main idea. She talked about how women today think that if they have a good job that pays the bills and allows them to buy the clothes they want, the food they want, and money to do what they want, that they have achieved independence. In reality, those women are inescapably dependent. They depend on companies to make their clothes. They depend on the grocery store/restaurant to supply them with food. And jam. One only needs to look to the nearest grandma who can cook enough for an army in a closet-sized kitchen, harvest produce to can preserves that last right through the dreariness of winter, sew new clothes and mend old ones, and do countless other things herself, to realize what a truly independent woman looks like.

I want to be like that.

I talk to the kids about the fact that we are always learning. School is not summed up by a few hours a day given out of duty, to learn something boring or inapplicable. Every situation offers the opportunity to teach us something. Life is school.
Wyatt summed this up nicely today.

“Mommy, we’re going to poop school. Because we’re learning how to wipe our bums, so that’s poop school!”

No one wants to admit the ugly times in their life. We’re caught up in this system of saving face, trying to look good, and attempting to hide the stench that rises from our sinful hearts. Well I’m fed up with acting like I don’t screw up. I do. A lot. And let me tell you, today my heart stunk. I had altogether had it with a certain little girl who is busy flexing her two-year-old independence muscles. Nothing I give her to eat is appetizing. Okay that’s not entirely true, because I know if I were to give her free reign on the chocolate bars she would not complain. Anyway, she decided she didn’t want to eat her lunch (again) and I decided that was not okay.

There is definitely a way that a mother can be firm with a child, in a way that is not sinful. I did not choose any such path. I was impatient, unkind, ungracious, loud, and completely mean. I’m not telling you this to make you feel good about yourself if you didn’t have a bad day. I’m not telling you this to make you feel okay about it if you had a day similar to mine. I’m telling you this because we all suck at being good. And if you think you’re pretty good at being good, you prove your pride, which isn’t good. Gotcha.

After ‘the episode’, I was appalled at myself.
“Where did that come from?” I wondered. “That’s not who I am.”
And then the light turns on and I realize afresh: that is exactly who I am.
The lyrics of a Needtobreathe song came to mind, and cycled on repeat for the rest of the day,
“It’s clear enough to me,
the ugliness I see
Is evidence of who I need.”

Apart from Jesus Christ, apart from the redeeming work of the Holy Spirit in my life, who I am is absolutely appalling. The Bible is pretty clear about that.

As it is written:
“None is righteous, no, not one;
no one understands;
no one seeks for God.
All have turned aside; together they have become worthless;
no one does good,
not even one.” (Romans 3:10-12)

But God.

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ — by grace you have been saved. (Ephesians 2:4-5)

I am so thankful for the grace of God, for the forgiveness of sins, for the cleansing from all unrighteousness. Because of Jesus I can repent and move on, and I pray that his grace continues to melt my heart so that I can share through my life a more accurate picture of my God to my children.

Markus has become such a big help around the house. Not only does he (usually) help entertain Deacon when I am busy doing 10 things at once in the kitchen, but he is starting to find great joy in his baby brother all on his own. This moment between the two of them really happened – as opposed to the “guys, make it look like you like each other” moments that I may or may not be guilty of capturing on occasion – and I was delighted to find them having fun together. Apparently Markus has a very interesting mouth.

“What’s up with Mommy?”

Too many late nights.
Too many cups of coffee.
Too many interrupted nights.
Too many simple carbs.
Too many baby-in-the-bed nights.
Too many birthday sweets.

This has got to stop.

I was having a bad afternoon, and needed to get ready to go out for supper with Clay. A birthday supper date was on the agenda. I knew I would probably be in a better mood if I put a little effort into the way I looked, especially after drying my eyes from a good cry. So I fixed my hair, and put on some makeup. I contemplated changing out of my jeans and plaid shirt, but I certainly am a girl who prefers comfort over fashion, so I wasn’t very motivated to get dressed up. I decided to consult my boys. They’d have an inside look on what my guy would like.

“Do you guys think I should wear this for my date with Daddy, or should I change into something else?”

“You mean, something prettier?” Their innocent faces inquired.

“Yes, something prettier.”

“Do you have any clothes that are pretty?” They wondered. We made our way into the closet.

“Yes, I have some skirts over there, and some dresses.”

“Where are the dresses?” Markus wanted to know.

“They’re over here. I have this pink one, a purple one, and this other one with lots of colours.”

“Well, I think you should wear the purple one, because that shirt is kind of something that looks more like what a boy would wear. Right?” An innocent smile and questioning eyes.

Oh Markus, you are too cute! The purple dress it was. I was freezing in it, thanks to the freezing rain and snow that fell while we were out, but it definitely lifted my spirit to remember my little man and his encouraging words.

A daily photo. What seemed so impossible two years ago has become doable. Manageable. A snapshot and a soundbite. There is a great sense of accomplishment that comes from looking back on two years of daily photos. A flood of memories. Satisfaction. A bird’s eye view of the blessings, forgetting the struggles under the surface. And yet…

Yet there are times when I have more to say. More to say about the blessings, and things to say about the struggles under the surface. They don’t make it to the daily snap. And instead of doing the 365 project well, and another personal blog with mediocrity, I’m going to merge the two. With photos I can paint you an idyllic picture of what my life looks like, but I don’t want to give the impression of ease. Life is not easy, and I have not found balance. I heard a wise women say, “There is no balance. You have to learn to live within the tension.” Welcome to the tension. There is beauty within, yet struggles abound.

And so begins Chapter 28.
Everyday life.
Messy stuff included.