“Why now? Why this? Why ME?”
These are the kind of questions racing through my mind. The clock is mocking me, 1:11 a.m., and my poor little boy has unfortunately just shown that he really was telling the truth about having an upset tummy. The proof is at my feet, and the smell is overwhelming.
I’m left with two options.
I can grumble and complain.
Or I can pray my way through it, that I will surrender to Christ and that Jesus will give me grace for this moment.
The fact is that beds need to be stripped, floors need to be cleaned, and a little boy needs to be reassured that everything is okay. Do I want to go about that bitterly, feeling like someone owes me a good night’s sleep? Or do I want to approach even this with a servant attitude, for Jesus’ sake?
The cross doesn’t just impact big things like the saving of many souls in a faraway land. It also impacts the little things like my own heart, in the middle of the night, with the stench of sickness tickling my nostrils.
What do you need to surrender?
When we bought our house, we were thrilled with almost all of the finishing details. The main level has real hardwood floors, the trim and casings are a beautiful upgrade from the usual ‘builder basic’, and it just felt like everything was a step up from the other houses we had looked at. Everything that is, except for the nearly-white carpet. (And the countertops, but my beef is not with them today.)
It’s a nice enough looking carpet, but the quality is terrible. I’ve witnessed more than a few brawls between the vacuum and the carpet. The vacuum always wins, and the stairs are looking battered as a result. And of course, as I mentioned, it is white.
Who in their right mind puts white carpet in a house that will most likely be lived in by a young family? Having potty trained Markus in a house with a very forgiving multi-coloured berber rug, I was scared of this floor. How do you hide a potty stains on white? Now, somehow we have managed to survive potty training two kids in this house.
But we knew…we just knew that there would come a day when a sick kid would not make it to the toilet in time. You know what I am talking about. I will spare you the gory details, but please, if you are ever in a position of influence, whether in your own home or in someone else’s, and white carpet is being weighed as an option….remember Clay and I, cleaning tomatoey vomit out of white carpet at 2:00 a.m.
Don’t go there, folks. Just don’t.
Put hardwood in a kids’ room. For the love of all that is good!
Today we celebrate the fact that our baby boy is 9 months old! I know this photo is blurry, but it is the best I could get to show of his dazzling pearly whites – all two of them! He cut these teeth about a month ago, but this is the first time he’s shown them off for the camera.
“Oh yum, a lens cap. Thanks, Mama!”
See how he has one leg in front of him, and one turned behind? This is one of the ways he gets around. He sort of pushes himself forward with the back leg. It’s kind of hard to explain. He does not appreciate being on his tummy and is not interested in crawling. At least he is creative to find other ways to move!
And just because everyone loves a chubby baby – a look at his delicious hand and forearm. I could eat you up, Deacon!
Usually it is Bailey that inches her way into Deacon’s monthly photoshoot, but today it was Wyatt who was keen to get in on the action. Wyatt’s latest delight is to ask me if Deacon’s clothes were ones that he wore when he was a baby. If the answer is yes, he calls Deacon ‘baby Wyatt’. Cutie.
This photo was an attempt to get Deacon to make his goofy face. I sure hope I can capture it before he stops doing it. I asked Markus to help, and this was his contribution. I think Deacon is wondering what in the world is wrong with us.
Bailey gets in on the action. Strange faces for photos have become the norm around here. As is evident in the next photo…
I love you, kiddos!
We took a family trip to Costco after supper. I used to manage this quite well on my own when we had three kids, but ever since Deacon came along I do not even attempt Costco without Clay. I’m sure it would be fine, but I know it is easier with his help. Plus it’s more fun when he comes.
The kids spent a good chunk of the afternoon playing outside today, so add that up with a ride home in the van after shopping, and you have 4 little cuties falling asleep almost instantly. It is always a gamble how they will react when we get home. Will they go straight to bed without a fuss, or will we have a scream-fest?
Bailey was emotional, but went straight to bed.
Markus was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He didn’t want to go to bed without having a snack, so I got him set up with some yogurt at the table.
Deacon was not impressed to be set on the floor. He wanted to eat, and he wanted to sleep. He looks a lot more content in this picture than he actually was.
And then there was Wyatt.
Clay and I went shopping this afternoon. It is a rare occasion that we have the chance to go shopping without the kids, so we seized the opportunity. While the little ones hung out with their great-grandparents, we headed for The Gap.
I don’t know where you fall in the clothing spectrum, but I grew up shopping at thrift stores, Zellers, and SAAN. I learned how to make a dollar stretch. The Gap was about as expensive as I could imagine clothes getting. $70 for jeans? Are you kidding? Now I willingly shell that money out. Hey, if the jeans fit… Not to mention the fact that every piece of clothing I buy from there is made 3x better than something I would spend 1/3 the price on. Better quality clothes = less time shopping. Win.
I am not a shopper. I have dabbled in retail therapy enough in the past to know that it has no lasting joy. I shop out of necessity, not for fun. Which is not to say it is never fun…but it often isn’t. Many a trip to the mall has resulted in my freaking out because everything’s either ugly, immodest, ugly, or immodest. Give me classic styles, flattering cuts, and I will wear my clothes into the ground. I just do not have the time to keep up with fads and trends. Plus, it is not fun to go clothes shopping with four kids. On top of that, we’re not exactly rolling in money. So for a number of reasons, I try to shop smart, and infrequently.
When I do end up at the mall, my favourite shopping partner is my husband. He’s the one I want to impress, he’s the one that I want to most appreciate my appearance, so it’s his opinion I want when I am trying on clothes. “I really like the way that shirt looks,” or, “That colour really makes your eyes look pretty.” SOLD! You’re hot and if you think I’m hot in this shirt I am SO buying it. He’s also the reason this stack of clothes is so big. I would not buy this much for myself…he made me do it.
Now, unless I blow the knee in a pair of jeans, I’m set for another year or so. Well that’s not entirely true. I still need a bathing suit. That is one trip I am absolutely not looking forward to.
Part of my plan for my new and improved blog is to regularly share links with you of things around the internet that have been catching my eye. Whether they be inspiring, encouraging, interesting, or infuriating, it will be stuff that strikes a chord with me in one way or another.
Infant Routines at Our Home | Passionate Homemaking: What’s right and what’s wrong: the scheduled/routine baby, or the attachment parenting baby? (And let me say for the record, I hate the term ‘attachment parenting’. Okay, I said it.) I found this article immensely helpful. I so appreciate Lindsay’s ability to look at this issue in light of the Bible, and to write in a way that respects both sides of the issue. After four babies, I fall somewhere in the middle.
Why Frumpy Makes You Grumpy | To Love, Honor and Vacuum: Hey all you moms out there. This is a great read about how the amount of care and time you put into your appearance affects your attitude as a wife. I know I am totally guilty of frumpy days. And it’s true that being frumpy really does make me grumpy. I haven’t eliminated the frump days, but I am working on it.
Christian Parenting | Ligonier: Elyse Fitzpatrick, author of Give Them Grace, is amazingly gifted at explaining how the gospel relates to the role of a parent. As she puts it, “Christian parenting isn’t a new method. It’s sharing the gospel you already know.” I don’t think I’m alone in reading parenting books out of desperation, wanting a quick fix for my kids. Yet the problem isn’t just in them, it’s deeply rooted in me as well. The gospel is the only thing that can give us hope not only for our kids, but for ourselves as well.
When to Stay the Course | Simple Homeschool: As I try to find my groove as a homeschooling mom, I need a steady diet of these kind of encouraging words from other moms who are travelling this road ahead of me. The ‘barebones school days’ she talks about in this post are what I default to a lot of the time in this stage. I appreciate hearing someone farther down the road turning around to say, “What you’re doing is just fine!”
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.
