Random Musings

My 5 year old Ella exudes confidence. She is sure that everyone she meets wants to be her friend and is hanging on her every word. There have been just a handful of times that I can think of where her confidence had been shaken. She believes that she is smart, cute and funny. Why, because daily she is reminded of this by her parents, teachers and total strangers.

One of these confidence shaking experiences happened last summer. She was playing with other children at our local YMCA. Ella is very tall for her age and in mixed age groups often ends up playing with kids a couple years older. She also is very energetic and often ends up playing with the rowdiest boy she can find because what he’s doing looks a like a lot more fun than playing with dolls. On this particular day she was playing a game with another little boy who was a couple years older. Ella kept losing this game. Did I mention that she is persistent? Finally the little boy told her, “You’re a loser!”. Ella protested and moved on to something else but when I picked her up after my workout she was obviously deflated.

I gave her my best pep talk on our way home. We talked about how losing a game doesn’t make you a loser. The look on her face said that she wasn’t convinced. We had some lunch, she had her nap and woke up her old self. The next morning she was especially anxious to go to the Y. I just thought she had some extra energy to burn but really she had a score to settle. As I was getting her twin brothers out of their car seats in the Child Watch area I see Ella pulling something out of her backpack and marching her way over to the little boy from the previous day. What she had was her dance medal from her Spring recital earlier in the year. She was swinging that red, white and blue ribbon in this little boys face saying, “You see this? I am a winner! Winners get medals!”. I think she scared that child. I couldn’t hear what he said but when she was done talking she put the medal around her neck and they went back to playing (now that she had cleared that up for him).

I had not thought about this in a while and last week my pastor taught on insecurity and this memory came to the forefront of my mind. I have a lesson to learn from my little Ella. When people, my past failures, or those voices in my head make me feel insecure I should do just what Ella did. I need to go to the place where there is proof of my worth and abilities. What does the Word of God have to say about me and my situation? Then I can take the Word and silence those taunting voices (figuratively, I am not suggesting waving your Bible in someone’s face)! God did not spare his own Son to save…me! I have infinite value! Romans 8 says it best,

“31 What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? 33 Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. 34 Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36 As it is written:    “For your sake we face death all day long;
we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”[j]  37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[k] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. “

At the beginning of this month I was standing silent after a time of worship during a Women’s Conference waiting on some encouraging word from God. What did I feel like He spoke to me? This simple sentence, “You are not enough”. Just thirty minutes prior I had checked in with my husband to see how he was faring at home with the kids and after our brief conversation I wondered if I should have spent the night away at a Women’s Conference. “See”, I told myself “things go crazy when you are away. You should be at home.”. This, never being away, a dear friend helped me understand was impossible. She actually had to ask me if my plan was to never leave the house again. I, actually had to think about my reply!

At first, the thought that I am not enough is disappointing. I thought I am doing the best I can and it’s not enough. That is utterly deflating. But then I understood what the Father was trying to get me to see. It is highly arrogant for me to really believe that I am the glue that is holding my family together. It’s hard not to feel that way but it’s not true. So many of the things that I make myself responsible for, in reality, I am not. This is joyously liberating! I cannot do or be enough to single-handedly carry the burden of disciplining my children; managing our finances; nurturing the family physically, spiritually and emotionally; cultivating a strong marriage; serving the Lord in our community; overseeing our kids’ educations; etc… In all these areas I have a responsibility but in all these things we also are not alone. Many of us have loving and helpful spouses that will help us bear the load(if we let them, i.e. don’t always rush home) and more than that we have a loving Father that longs to be present in every moment of life with us and bear our burdens.

In times when I have felt so overwhelmed it is usually because I have fooled myself into thinking that I alone am responsible for some thing, some person, some outcome or solution. When I have taken a step back I see that in myself I don’t really have the ability to “make things right”. And the pressure and stress that I am feeling is self-imposed. This is the moment when I can accept a divine invitation to rest. Two scripture passages come to mind:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened , and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”- Matt. 11:28-30

“…God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.”- 1Pet 5:5b-7

When I am humble enough to know that I cannot bear the burdens of my life without God’s divine help His continual rest is available to me. I don’t have to worry or stress just do my best and rest in His unfailingly capable hands.

I don’t know what your days are looking like right now, but mine are pretty routine. Crazy, busy, but routine, mundane; filled with numerous tasks that will just be repeated tomorrow. Doing laundry, changing diapers, making lunches, sweeping, mopping, paying bills, making repeated requests that are systematically ignored, cooking dinner, checking homework, giving baths, reading bedtime stories, etc… There is very little time to think of myself, much less do something for myself. I am so grateful for a shower everyday. This 5 minute shower is my me time, even though it is often interrupted. It is a great pleasure and a privilege to be home with my children, but let’s face it there just is no boss like an infant or toddler. They will take the food right out of your mouth, and they will barge in on you in the bathroom. You are expected to come running (literally, running) at the sound of a moan, whine or shriek. There are no office hours, and you are always “on call”. Demanding doesn’t even begin to describe it. This is motherhood!

I believe there is nothing on earth like a mother’s love. She will sacrifice anything for her child, but often during the preschool years it is hard to know, in all this self sacrifice, how do I keep my “self”. It is very easy to have an identity crisis. Who am I, and just what am I doing? I have thought about jobs I used to have where I was paid to tell people what to do. My advice was worth money! These children get all of my direction and guidance for free, and still they refuse it!

So, how can I sacrifice myself and preserve myself at the same time? I am not sure that you can. I think we are still ourselves but just in a different season. We must allow our view of ourselves to grow and change. In all this we have an excellent example in Jesus. His humility is well… humbling. Phillipians 2: 1-7, says it this way,” 1 Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, 2 then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. 3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, 4 not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. 5 In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: 6 Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; 7 rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. 8 And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross! “

I think most mothers instinctively put the needs and desires of their children first. We do this without thinking. But what is lost on us is how high this calling is. It’s hard to see where the “little things” we do daily have eternal ramifications… That this love that we show our children is in fact a ministry, and that we have the honor of being the first representation of Jesus our children will ever know. Okay, these are big shoes to fill, and in light of this truth our daily tasks don’t feel so mundane. It makes me identify with Christ and ask for his help. It makes me know that what I do needs the grace and power of God. It also lets me know just how much I am loved. For I too am a child who is often oblivious to the great love and sacrifice given for me to live this beautiful life in Christ.

So I don’t know what has got me thinking about this again but here I sit thinking about my listening skills (or lack there of).  It’s not that I don’t hear you.  I know what you’ve said and can recall it back to you word for word, days even years later.  A gift that my husband and children are not so fond of, but I digress.  The problem is that I don’t know if I am always present with the person who is talking.  Often something they’ve said leads me on some mental bunny trail or I am just so excited about my response to whatever they’ve said that I am already a million miles away to my next anecdote.

When we were dating my husband also found out that I can participate in and listen to more than one conversation at once.  Most women can do this, right?  We’d be sitting in our booth in a restaurant talking and as soon as there was a break in our conversation I’d say something about the conversation next to or behind us.  This, I do understand is rude and technically eaves dropping but I am not doing it on purpose.  They are just talking so loud!

I am also, with people whom I am very familiar, an interrupter.  I know, I know this is the worst.  EVERYONE, myself included, hates this.  As soon as it happens, I make an inward vow to never do this again unless someone’s hair is on fire (which has happened in my presence).  Some part of me turns into a overly excited puppy that is jumping up and down and can’t wait to ‘say my part’!  Totally and completely obnoxious.

I have been trying to figure out how to be more sensitive(not my strong suit) and tuned in to people and their needs and it all has to start with listening.  Really, listening.  Putting myself completely inside what is being said to me while it’s being said and until the speaker is wholly and absolutely finished.  Why is this sometimes difficult?  It seems that any decent person could do this but I guess that’s why it’s called a skill.  Skills can be honed so that gives me hope.  I can do this.  I will be a better listener this year.

Okay, now here is the real challenge.  I am going to start honing these skills at home.  Do you know how much children talk?  Often these important little people turn into background noise the more things they say.  We miss so much by just yeah, yeahing them.  I think humility is the key.  What someone else has to say has to be at least as important or if not more than what I have to say no matter who they are, even little people.  The opposite of this is of course arrogance and nobody wants that!

The last time I looked at the clock last night was at 2am.  I usually don’t go to bed that late but I don’t get to bed early either. Usually between 11:30 and 12:30. I told my husband at 11:30 last night that the late night madness had to stop…tomorrow, I said.  We both laughed because I have been toying with this for months.  I do well for about a week and then I am right back to my late night habits.

I have sound arguments for my late night ways.  Firstly, I have done years of shift work as a server and restaurant manager.  Now I have the heightened productivity of the kids’ post bedtime hours.  I feel like a superhero after they go to sleep.  Regular tasks that drag on all day due to incessant interruptions can get done in 15 minutes.  Third, my husband usually works late either here at home or away.  I have a hard time falling asleep without him and I usually want to catch up before going to sleep.  And lastly, this is the only time in my day that no one is calling my name.  It is the only time I can finish a complete thought.  Well, that’s not true.  At the gym no one is calling my name but I can’t finish a thought because all I can think is “breathe” on a repeating loop?  Late night is my me time.

Okay, here is the part I am leaving out.  On the cons side of going to bed earlier, I have a serious crash every afternoon at about 2:30 pm.  Yes, I get my exercise, eat well and take my vitamins.  There is just no substitute for sleep.  Every person that I know that is really productive gets up early.  I am not sure exactly what the connection is but I know there is one.  Maybe I can have my me time early, right?  Umm, sounds good in theory but kids have mom radar and no matter how early I rise within 15 minutes I have immediate company.

I guess I have been getting too little sleep for so long that I find it hard to believe I can get up willfully without the sound of a crying baby.  My little Judah usually gets up between 5:30 and 6:15.   I usually wake up to take care of him and go on to take care of people until about 8:30pm.  To be in bed by 9pm feels like a race to wrap up the rest of my day in 30 minutes.  Even if I were to be in bed by then I will just lie there and think because I have not had the mental time to process my day and shut down.  My brain takes quite a while to “shut down”.

So, I will probably compromise and make my new bedtime 10pm.  Technically this does not give me enough sleep for my boot camp mornings that begin twice a week at 4:30am, but it’s a start.  I did it last night and had a little time to myself but wasn’t up until midnight.  I have been trying to teach myself the meaning of balance my whole life.  To those who don’t know these little compromises I make with myself are major triumphs.  My all or nothing perfectionist personality plus my genetic predisposition to be just a touch OCD (ha-just a touch) doesn’t help in this, but knowing is half the battle right?

Today I honor all those brave and sacrificial parents who lovingly, willingly take their children on vacation with them.  Especially those with toddlers (independent enough to get away from you quickly but no command of vocabulary).  Double kuddos if you are a parent of twin toddlers or babies.  A special reverence for parents of pre-teen or teenagers and shock and awe if all three.  Where do I fit in, you guessed it, all three!

I have so many happy and funny memories from family vacations growing up.  My dad was a pilot in the Navy so we vacationed one summer and usually were relocated the next.  So virtually every summer growing up we had some big trip planned.  I always looked forward to the trip.  Both of my brothers and I love to travel and explore.  I guess growing up the way we did we really had no other choice.  We always looked forward to taking a trip.  Of course I say now that I have so many happy memories but if I think a little harder there was plenty of motion sickness(me), whining, arguing, complaining, he touched me, she’s looking at me and he’s laying on my shoulder(3 kids, one back seat) going on.  The worst events I can think of are the “funny memories”.  Me fainting at the Ponderosa. Our new Volvo station wagon filling up with mosquitoes while at a rest stop and the white leather roof being spattered with dead mosquitoes and our blood for the rest of the trip. The RV trip to Yosemite where I tortured no one with the silent treatment after being nicknamed Motor Mouth.  On that same trip my family discovered that I grind my teeth at night, not a fun sound to fall asleep to.  The door flying open mid-flight as my dad flew us to Tampa in a very small plane and my younger brother trying to close it.  I could go on and on.  Even now I chuckle as I remember these things.

What I never really understood was how much work and planning went into it as a parent.  Firstly, saving up enough money to go.  As a kid you don’t know that paying off bills is super duper exciting for your parents!  As we were setting aside money (Jeremy literally worked every day and night for the 2 weeks leading up to the trip) for our latest trip I was thinking about other things we could be doing with the money but those other things will always be there but your children will not always be children.  I want them to have  funny memories similar to the ones I have now.  Secondly, the packing for the trip.  Especially if you have really little ones and if you will be out of the country(Walmart run not an option).  Just thinking about packing for the Bahamas and doing the passport thing was exhausting.  Then I actually had to pack.  Real necessities like diapers and wipes and felt necessities like blankies and favorite toys.  Always with the nagging feeling that I am forgetting something.  And lastly, just getting there.  The drive, the flight the boat ride or all three.  Being en route with your kids is an all hands on deck job within itself because they have no concept of time and need to know at every 5 minute interval what to expect (Ella, my 4 yr. old).  All of this is applicable for one child and it multiplies for each additional child you take.  So really parents, hats off to you!

Now that you have arrived in your destination let the fun begin!  I learned on Mother’s Day that the average preschooler asks over 400 questions per day.  Well, I am the proud parent of an advanced preschooler and on vacation I think it doubles.  She needs to know everything you know about a place and situation and she needs to know now!  The twins who are 19 months old need to touch and put everything in their mouths now!  Unless it can be climbed on and if it can be they are climbing it now!  Pre-teenager is sulking, I can’t keep up with the reasons.  This is the go to mood for eleven year old girls but rest assured, you, dear parent are the cause.  Are we having fun yet!

Just to be clear we had a blast.  Kids and parents.  Highlights: watching all the kids play in the sand at the beach, the girls making up cheers and putting on shows with their cousin, eating a picnic lunch everyday on our back porch because we’re too wet and sandy to come in and we’ll just go right back out, going snorkeling with the hubs at Paradise Cove, holding my grandmother’s cane so she can “get low” and watching my mom and dad play with the boys on the beach.  And things that weren’t funny then but are funny now: waiting two hours for the rental car pick us up at the port, both boys having diarrhea on the 13 hour drive from Miami, Ella wetting her pants in the middle of the cruise ship dining room (never happens), and Grace after scowling for whole days declaring at the end of them how much fun she had.  And with a bit of irony our favorite place to eat was this Bahamian Greek restaurant named Zorba’s.

All this week me, the hubs and the boys will be recovering from our trip while the girls are with my In-laws at Disney World (fluke scheduling).  I know when they come home their first question will be, “When can we do it again?”.  That’s the very best part!

This morning was different from most mornings for me because I was up and headed out the door for a workout at 4:45am.    I do go to the gym most mornings but it is not usually before 8:30.  A friend of mine is teaching a boot camp at 5am twice a week.  It’s swim suit season so it wasn’t all that hard to twist my arm into participating.  My main concern, sleep deprivation.  I liken the level of sleep deprivation that mothers of young children live with to being a functional alcoholic.  The sleeplessness is unhealthy, even dangerous but functional nonetheless.  I am functionally sleep deprived.  So a 5am boot camp, not helping.

I got up on time (no snooze button) and was tracking to be early.  I grabbed my water and my phone and was headed out the side door.  That’s when I saw…IT!  As I was about to step out the door I looked down (I have no idea why) and there it was, a nasty little opossum!  I slammed the door and somehow did not scream and wake up the whole house.  If you have never come foot to face with a opossum you can’t possibly know how ugly these little buggers are.

I don’t do critters!  My heart rate is up and my adrenaline is pumping. I have broken out into a sweat.  I have the feeling that I can run the couple of miles to the park and make my best time ever!  It took a few deep breaths to calm me down.  I had been concerned about being sluggish and dragging through the workout but I was definitely wide awake.  Maybe this is the way to start the day with gusto.  Get the mess scared out of you and head right out the door!

When I got home I dramatically relived the incident for my husband.  He grew up in the country so this seems very trivial to him.  He could not understand why I was so hysterical.  “A opossum can’t hurt you Vanessa”, he said.  Can you believe he said that?  I can’t believe he was trying to use reason against my obvious sense of terror.  I told him I would NEVER use the side garage door again(sensible, I know).  He soon realized how very serious this was.  He told me he’d get online and find some sort of repellent.   I asked him to take the garbage to the curb.  I secretly thought this may be its new home.

I suspect that no matter how much sleep I get I will not be able to match today’s energy level for the next boot camp.

Grace and Ella have their dance recitals tomorrow.  There is always that child in all the preschool routines that just doesn’t dance.  Some even get so comfortable as to sit down while everyone else dances around them.  Some are petrified, guided stiffly out on stage and then have a doe-in-headlight look for the entire performance.  Others are simply not that interested in what’s going on.  The bow on their shoe has suddenly become wildly captivating.  Others just wave at grandma or grandpa the whole time.  Whatever they do it’s pretty cute because they are pretty cute.

My preschooler, Ella is finishing her second full year in dance.  She takes a tap, jazz, ballet combo.  She loves to dance.  At the practice recital in January she was the non-dancer.  She is not shy.  She doesn’t get stage fright and she was not distracted.  The morning of the recital she was fine until I pulled out her costume.  “I have to wear that!”, she shrieked.  She said this as though she was unaware until that very moment what this dance costume was for.  It had been hanging on her door all week.  “It’s itchy!”, she cried.  She burst into tears and hysterics.

I found something else for her to wear.  I explained that she would have to put on the costume before her performance.  Why did I think it would be better to have this meltdown in a public place?  At some point in her life she will need to realize there is so much uncomfortableness in the world of women’s fashion.  I guess I felt 4 was too young for this all too real reality.

I fought her clothes onto her in a public restroom and she pouted her way to her dance group.  When they came out I knew, there would be no dancing from that frowny face.  She stood there looking down with her finger in her mouth the whole time.  When she returned to her seat her grandmother asked her what was wrong.  She declared,”it’s itchy”, as though everyone knows this renders you immobile.

It would be nice if she dances tomorrow but not a big deal if she doesn’t.  We’ll just see what happens.  It is noteworthy that the costume is the same from January and with her last growth spurt I can barely close the back.  So now, tight AND itchy!  What are the odds she’ll dance?  What do you think?