The Gingerbread House Flop

             It’s hard for me to watch my kids struggle.  It’s hard not to just step in, but they really don’t learn anything that way.  The weekend before Christmas, I was planning on letting the girls make their annual gingerbread houses.  The oldest two make their own, and my youngest two share one (both get two walls to decorate).  Unfortunately, germs invaded our house right before Christmas and put my youngest two out of commission; so gingerbread house making was postponed to this week.  One afternoon, we made dough, chilled it, and rolled it out to their specifications.   The following day we decorated, and raised the walls. It took all day!  I’m excited to announce that this year instead of going out and purchasing gobs of candy to decorate the houses with (and having lots left over to, ahem, “dispose” of), we actually used their leftover Halloween candy to decorate.  I noticed that my older girls were much more thoughtful about their choices and more creative in decorating than any of the other years past.  (Last year one of them literally dumped candy inside the house into the cement icing to “hold up the walls.”)  I put the little ones’ house together, but just helped the older two as they requested it.  My oldest decided to make an enormous one with a back wall off in order to make it look like a doll house.  She wanted her gingerbread people to play inside.  My next oldest one decided to just leave the roof off, so that her people could play inside as well.  One succeeded and one failed…any guesses as to who did which?  It was the doll house that began to crash continually as the graham crackers were added to form the boundary between the second and first floor.  I watched as my daughter re-cemented the walls in place a couple of times, and even tried toothpicks to fortify the walls.  It was hard to watch her struggle, and at first I tried to give her little pieces of advice.  Clearly, she wanted to do it on her own because she ignored me; so I just ended up being quiet.  Finally, the walls began breaking into pieces from all the falls.  She announced that she was done, and I could see her eyes looking very watery at that moment.  I went over and gave her a big hug, and told her I was proud of her for coming up with an original idea.  I told her that she really did a fantastic job decorating the walls, and it was ok that her idea didn’t work this time. 

                Usually, I would’ve had to step in to help my daughter. A little over a week ago, I was notified that I get to be apart of the launch team for Jill Savage's newest book which means I had the benefit of reading through “No More Perfect Moms” last week…a big part of the book deals with our expectations about our children.   It talks a lot about letting them fail, and about not trying to change them.   The book basically lays out the people we deal with as women, the problems that we face, and the antidote for each of them. (If you're interested in the book, make sure you wait to order it until the week of Feb. 4-9 because Moody publishers will be offering more than $100 worth of bonuses like e-books, audio workshops and more.) The chapter on kids talked about how imperfect they naturally are (just like us) and that our tendency is to want to change them.  I was extremely convicted by the line “However, if we work to change another person, it is likely that we love ourselves more than we love that other person.”  She goes on to talk about how love is what is really called for when we are dealing with our kids, and gives practical ways of implementing that.  I realized that by letting my daughter fail; I was loving her just the way she was and not trying to “fix” her.

                All day long as the girls had finished their houses, I had uploaded pictures with their finished masterpieces to Facebook.  The gingerbread flop was the last one to be finished, and I was tempted not to put it on my page.  I don’t want anyone to look at any of my children as failures.  I want them to always feel the success of life.  However, this really only demonstrated a great idea that hadn’t worked this time not that my daughter is a failure. I simply asked if my daughter minded me putting it up there, and she said that she didn’t.   Mind you, she didn’t get as many likes as the other houses, but no one said anything negative either.

                I’m not a perfect mom, and my girls aren’t perfect either…and I’m ok with that.

It's Been a Month!

     Merry Christmas! It's been a whole month of focusing on my biggest pet peeve...my yelling. I've learned a lot and I'm going to continue to study, forgive, surrender and pray concerning my yelling, but I'm really encouraged at the progress. I hope that you feel like you've made progress in the area you've been focusing on.
     I feel like I've had many chances to practice surrendering control over to God in the past few days...almost like a final exam at the end of a course. My two youngest got sick with a viral infection this past Thursday that has left them whiny, achy, and very needy. My poor hubby has also been sick for more than two days. My second eldest started showing symptoms last night of coming down with the same infection...which leaves just two of us healthy for the holidays. I'm so grateful not to be sick; however, it was disappointing not to go as a family to the church musical or go to the family Christmas Eve gathering. Fortunately,  I haven't blown up with my family (last night, I was even complimented on my attitude). A few times I have gotten irritated though. My mom is staying with us over the holidays...and we have had some friendly debates over how to bake her famous bread recipe (that she's been making for the past 30 years, and I've been making for the past 3 weeks--clearly she has a tad more experience). We quibble in the kitchen over little things, but usually end up laughing...like when she admitted that she measured "Amish" cups (or as most would say a "generous" cup) of milk for my yogurt instead of the standard. I questioned her about this when my usual container nearly overflowed with the yogurt mixture. She giggled when I asked her if she'd measured exactly 5 cups and said she'd wondered if I'd notice that she hadn't. I did.
     Sometimes it's hard to slow down and give up my plans when my family is sick...the last time I went through this was a month ago at Thanksgiving.  It went much better this time, and I think that all the prayer and blogging about this area has helped.
     I've had the wonderful privilege of reading a great new book by Jill Savage (coming February 4, 2013) called "No More Perfect Moms".  I definitely qualify as an imperfect mom...I didn't even get out Christmas cards this year. You will be hearing lots more about it in the next few months as it really ties in nicely with many of the struggles I've been going through. If you are curious about the book, here is the website that has more info on it, including a sign-up for a challenge beginning Jan.1st:

http://www.hearts-at-home.org/index.php/nmpm-home

Thanks for hanging out with me and joining me on my own adventure!

Day 27: Kitty breaks

     One of my favorite things about homeschooling is that when the girls go on "recess", I oftentimes find them sitting on the bench outside our back door holding a sleeping, purring cat. They could literally sit for an hour or more just holding their sleeping cat.  As a result of all the time they spend doting on their cats, we have two very, very friendly cats.  They come running when they hear the door open.
     One key thing for me that helps keep my emotions in check is having some down time. I really could work non-stop, but all work and no play makes for a very grumpy mommy and wife. When I am not working, I hear a lot of critical voices in my head telling me that I'm slacking and my family will suffer. This fall it was even a struggle for me to reason that it was ok to take a half hour to blog even though it really makes me happy to write down my thoughts. However, I've found that milk needs to be closely tended when making hot cocoa or making yogurt...so I pull up a stool and blog (while stirring every few seconds). Yes, we have hot cocoa/make yogurt that often.
     Everyday I take time to read my lesson if I'm involved in a Bible study; or if I'm in between lessons or sessions, I read a chapter or two in the Bible (I'm in Job right now). This is essential down-time for me and essential to my mental health. Before I developed a real relationship with Christ, I had no desire to read the Bible...it would have been one more thing to check off my list of good things to do, but the Bible has come to life for me as my love has grown. I used to look at God as a stern professor angry when I was "late" or absent for my Bible reading, but now I look at him as my best friend waiting for me with a cup of coffee in His hand hoping to share just the right words with me while I read the Bible. He's not angry if I miss our date...just disappointed. There is only love not condemnation.
     I really look forward to having a little one because it is one of God's greatest ways to tell me to slow down and enjoy the moment. I just can't do everything. A baby needs to be held and cuddled. They thrive on attention and kisses. It is an easy excuse to sit down, smell their sweet heads, and remember that God feels the same way about us. He holds us in His arms with the same love and patience.
     A couple of days ago while emptying the vacuum dirt into the trash, I noticed one of the girl's cats waiting on the bench for someone to cuddle with.  I sat down and took a kitty break. It was fun to watch the cat try to find a spot on my diminishing lap to lay down...she finally settled on top of my baby bump. It was fun to feel the baby respond to the warmth and purring mound of fur on top of him. There was no kicking...Harley (the dog) has gotten kicked a time or two when he rests his head on my tummy while I read to the girls...just gentle adjustments and movements. I couldn't help but smile and feel recharged. I think God was smiling too...maybe this is part of why He made cats...for little breaks on the bench. When I heard my two year old screaming in the house, I knew it was time to go back in. It was easier to go in with gentleness and patience on my mind after my break. It wasn't hard to control my volume in my words.
      What kind of breaks do you like taking? What makes you smile?

Day 25: Reducing the Christmas Madness

     Today is the blog hop sponsored by Hearts at Home. The topic is what Christmas traditions we do, and how to get your kids to think about giving vs. just getting.
     It was five years ago that we began giving just three presents at Christmas...one toy, one practical gift (like clothes or books), and one activity for the family.  We had gotten tired of watching our house fill up with toys to the point that there was clutter everywhere.  The girl seemed to be overwhelmed by all of the toys too. It didn't feel like they even had enough time to enjoy all of it. We had to regularly donate toys just to make room for the next crop of toys around the corner. It also was stressful for me as a mom to go out and purchase the perfect gifts and try to spend evenly on everyone.
     We talked about it as a family, and the first year we hid all the presents except for one which had a short poem with a clue for the next present. Just having three Christmas presents around the tree seemed a little strange, but the girls enjoyed hunting for presents so much that the tradition stuck...with one exception. There is just one present under the tree with a clue for the next child's gift. Everyone has their turn, and moment of glory...which makes it easier to see their faces and savor the moment as a parent. It also stretches out the gift-giving fun for a good hour. Doing it on a budget makes it all the more interesting because of the creativity required. When they asked for a more expensive toy, they received a puzzle to do as a family activity or we went through a local Christmas light display that costs $5 on the weekdays, but everyone loves. One year they received $3 placemats for their practical present.
     Each child is in charge of filling a shoe box for a child their age through the "Operation Christmas Child" project which is both fun, and "our present to Jesus". We ask them to get things they would like as an effort to get them to be generous and not just self-centered. They also give away part of their allowance to wherever they choose, and they sometimes use it for the shoe boxes or the bell ringers.
     Last year while anticipating a move, we asked our families to do activities with us instead of exchanging gifts.  We went bowling with my hubby's family and it was lots of fun. The year before we watched a new movie, played a new game (Twister) and splurged on special snacks that we wouldn't have otherwise purchased to eat during our movie.
     What are you favorite family traditions? Please feel free to share in the comments below.

Day 24: Death to Synapses

      It's easy for me to feel overwhelmed. It's easy for me to get angry about the things I can't control. It doesn't help my situation though. The most recent chapter that I read in "The Me I Want to Be" talks about the feelings your thoughts can produce.
     Early this morning when my youngest woke me up to announce that she'd overflowed her diaper, I could've been annoyed to have to get up to change her clothes and bed sheets...or I could've focused on the fact that this is the first time she's gotten me up at night for almost a week. I had a choice of which thought to dwell on. When I woke up in the middle of the night gasping for breath because my reflux kicked in around 2 am (and my supper was trying to find it's way into my mouth), I could've felt upset that my body is not my own and that this little baby doesn't give my stomach enough room to digest my food properly...or I could've been happy that I haven't been sick at all this pregnancy (not even with morning sickness). When I was attempting to run this morning and had to stop because with every bounce I could feel my dear little one's feet trying to stretch my ribs to a new level of discomfort,  I could be discouraged that I couldn't run as long as I had planned or be encouraged that I'm still running/walking at 32 weeks of pregnancy.
     I have to run to those positive thoughts, or my whole day stinks. The dark thoughts try to suck every ounce of hope from me. Honestly, some days I lose the battle. I am constantly bombarded with a black hole of negative thoughts.  My favorite thought from this chapter I'm reading says that our brain even as adults are changeable (known as neuroplasticity). "Which synapses remain and which ones wither away depends on your mental habits. Those that carry no traffic go out of business like bus routes with no customers." When you dwell on the positive your mind is physically changing your brain.
     I could choose to look at the times I've failed in my challenge of not yelling this month or think about all the times I've heard the girls tell me how nice I am in the past month. It has seriously been a record number of times that they've said that. I know which synapse I'd like to die...how about you?

Day 20: Fitting Words

     It's all over the news, facebook, and most definitely our minds. The shooting in Connecticut is a huge tragedy. We see the innocence of all those lives taken, and it stirs us up. I've rarely seen anything quite as popular to post about on Facebook especially among my friends. People are praying for the families, and I can't think of anything more fitting to do in a time like this. I know from personal experience that prayer can lift your spirits like nothing else. It stirs my own heart to hug my girls a little tighter and express my gratitude to God for having them safe in my arms. It spurs me on even more to watch my words and make sure they are kind and at an appropriate volume. What if it is last words they ever hear? It also motivates me to speak more kindly to others I'm in contact with even if it is the cashier at the store. There is very little I can do for all those families in Connecticut affected by the shooting other than pray, but there are hurting people all around me that may need a kind word or even a smile. I can surely start with my own family.
     A friend of mine had this written on her chalkboard for her year of homeschooling: "A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver." (Proverbs 25:11)  Last week when I was freaking out about homeschooling, my hubby complimented me on what a good job I was doing. I hadn't even shared with him that I had looked at standards that day and was overwhelmed. It melted my heart that he complimented me on that day of all days when my insecurity was fresh in my mind...definitely an apple of gold.
     Over the past few months, I have come to cherish all my sisters and mothers in Christ that have lifted me up in prayer. I'm forever indebted to a God that answers  prayer and to those who care enough to "cover me in prayers"...like an invisible blanket of protection.
     I've seem the light of delight in my own girl's eyes when I pay them a compliment ...and the lights go out when I rebuke them too harshly. This coming week I want to be intentional about keeping the light burning in their eyes. I want the positive comments to far outweigh the negative. One of my favorite family traditions is our nightly recount of our high and low points for the day. I get a glimpse at what was really important in their lives, and I can see some of their strengths and weaknesses. Sundays we do a different thing instead of highs and lows. We brag on each other each take turns sharing what we are most proud of each family member for in the past week. I love hearing what my girls are proud of me for, and I love trying to bring up something original about them.

What ways do you speak fitting words to others? I'd love to have some new ideas to try this week.

Day 18: When Pushing Doesn't Work

      Yesterday was a rough day. I could feel my anger swelling up within me multiple times in the afternoon (kinda like heartburn climbing my esophagus everytime I forget and bend over right after I've eaten).
     I had interrupted our normal Wednesday homeschool routine by attending a brunch that I was supposed to meet a couple of friends at. I was disappointed to find out that they were unable to attend, but overjoyed when I met up with two other friends that I hadn't anticipated seeing. I also ended up winning a prize. This should've made my day awesome, right? Wrong. I felt overwhelmed by the list of schoolwork I had on our schedule...all to be accomplished in less time than usually allotted. The harder I pushed the girls the more they goofed off, giggling hysterically while playing war with their feet. They were supposed to be writing a summary on "Robin Hood"! I got through the day without yelling,  but there was a lot of teeth grinding, and peace was one emotion I did not feel.
      I banned lists for myself in late 2007 because they weren't really helpful. They dominated me instead of reminding me, and I always felt like a failure because I never made it to the end of mine. Now that I'm responsible for educating my girls the list has reemerged in the form of their daily planner. I have to remind myself that the list is there to give direction and purpose to our day, not to bring guilt.
      This morning I realized it was the five year anniversary of when a dear friend of mine lost her husband to cancer.  I couldn't resist taking her over some food and chatting with her for a while. However this meant interrupting our usual schedule again. Relationships should always trump work, but it's hard for me to maintain perspective. The anniversary would be over tomorrow, but "doubles plus ones" facts would still be there. I didn't want a repeat of yesterday, so I decided to focus on the fact that we could always catch up on Friday or even Saturday if needed. I stopped pushing and even laughed a couple of times. I tried to enjoy the day and forget about my preconceived notions of what I should accomplish and in what time frame.  John Ortberg describes this as "trying softer". He observed that in yoga they never tell you to try harder to make a pose, but to allow your muscles to relax into it. You have to surrender your body to gravity. In the same way, he says "As a general rule, the harder you work to control things, the more you lose control." This is definitely true for me in the area of my temper. He goes on to say, "Trying softer means focusing more on God's goodness than our effort...It means less self-congratulation when I do well and less self-flagellation when I fall down. It means asking God for help."
     Today, I didn't feel the same anger indigestion that I had yesterday because I let go. We got almost everything done (except for reading some of Les Miserables-which we can do tomorrow). When tears came from the assignments, I slowed down, reassured the girls and took the time to address the issues that I usually rush through.
     The next time you are tempted to push your way through something, consider "trying softer" instead.

Day 16: Night and Day

     I love the way newborns smell...especially their sweet breath. I love the way they curl up in your arms. I love listening to them laugh in their sleep long before they can laugh out-loud when they are awake. I love the innocent way their eyes cross when they try to focus on you, making me break out in hysterical laughter. One of the things that I enjoy the least about newborns is the sleep deprivation. First, they have to figure out the whole day vs. night cycle. Then, there is the fact that they need to eat more frequently than I want to wake up. If you add to that all the leaky diapers and germs they have to fight off, you really have little hope of a full night's rest for what feels like ages. As they age you have new challenges to keep them awake like ear infections and teething or even night terrors. Part of my anger has cycled around the amount of sleep I have. I do best on a full 8 hours of sleep. In most stages of the past decade, I've had to make do with less...sometimes significantly less. It wasn't until I had my third child that I gave up the notion of getting enough rest. I accepted the fact that in this stage of life it just wasn't feasible to count the hours of sleep I got, and somehow expect to get my "perfect" amount. I do have to admit that my fuse is much shorter when I've had a couple of rough nights. I've learned the benefit of 20 minute naps/rest periods and meditating during the day for just as long (usually on something I read during my devotional time). This pregnancy I've also learned how much regular exercise (i.e. running) helps me feel less tired and fatigued.
     I'm looking forward to our newest edition, but not the tired haze that I will walk around in, especially during the first year. I have a friend, Libby, who does this amazing caberet all about the joys and trials of motherhood called  "I'm Her Boobie: The Realities of New Motherhood Revealed in Song". I didn't know her very well when I saw her perform this the first time (and honestly I hate the word "boob", so I even debated going...turns out that it's from a line in the song "Honey Bun"). I absolutely adored the show! I laughed a lot, and I cried too. There was so much that I could identify with in it...I loved my friend even more when she honestly shared her failings and specifically those regarding her temper (and a few creative solutions). Since then, I've seen her perform it two more times (most recently as a fund-raiser for my MOPS group); and it has been just as wonderful.  It ranks right up there with my other favorite musicals: "The Sound of Music" and "My Fair Lady". I love to hear it over and over again because it validates that I'm not alone in my struggles as a mom (and besides that she's just really talented and funny--period).
     Last week I was talking to a mom who is in that seriously sleep deprived stage. It brought back all the memories from my experiences. Motherhood is challenging because your job never really ends. Since I am a full-time stay-at-home mom, I take my "job" very seriously. If they are puking all over the bed in the middle of the night, it's mommy to the rescue. If they've had a bad dream, they run to my bed to ask me to cuddle them and pray for them. If there is an accident,  I might be changing a bed at 3am. It's the best job in the world, and the toughest (in my experience) because they need you night and day.
     Here is a link to a clip from Libby's caberet that I think you will find funny regardless of your walk in life:

http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=aSU9-LOeeKU&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DaSU9-LOeeKU

Week 2: The Park Bench Pull

     I come from a long line of grudge holders. We secretly stew for months or even years waiting for the perfect moment to exact our revenge. Clearly, this is not what God wants us to do. He is the only one who can bring justice.
Sometimes when I find myself angry, it is directly related to a hurt that I haven't forgiven. Joyce Meyer always talks about how unforgiveness only hurts you, not the person you are angry at. I have a hard time remebering this. If Satan can convince me to rehearse a hurt over and over in my head, I'm like a bomb waiting to explode. The unintentional things my children do like accidentally putting the footstool on my toes is easy for me to forgive. It's when it is a repeat offense that I have a harder time letting go (like consistently forgetting to turn off the lights or laying jackets throughout the house instead of hanging them up--arghh!).
     It's funny how I started this post yesterday,  and the sermon today was all about how to have peace in your life. Guess what the topic was? Forgiveness. Our pastor used the illustration that when we carry a grudge against someone, it is like chaining yourself to a park bench that the offender sits on. We get exhausted from dragging it all around (I have done this extensively--hense my irritable temperament) while they in essence get a free ride. When you choose to forgive, you actually are choosing freedom for yourself. You release yourself from the park bench.
   A couple of years ago, God began working on me to start letting go of my hurts, and it really helped me with my temper. The problem is that I still continue to get hurt almost on a weekly basis if not daily basis. I'm a little sensitive, I guess. My hubby used to jokingly tell me that I'm "tender fresh-cut peas" just like it says on the frozen peas packaging. It's a good habit to get into to daily ask God to bring to mind those you need to forgive and those you need to ask forgiveness of. I've fallen out of this practice,  and my temper shows it.
     Our pastor gave some great steps to achieving peace by 1) Pursuing peace (Ps. 34:12), 2) Embracing our own need for grace (Eph 4:32), 3) Acknowledging our pain, 4) Choosing to forgive (Col.3:13), and 5) Extending grace (Rom. 12:14).  What do all those points spell? PEACE. Clever, huh? The point that really convicted me was embracing our own need for grace. He said your flow of forgiveness is always proportional to your awareness of how much God has forgiven you. When I have a hard time of letting something go, I'm concerned with justice. I'm forgetting how much Christ has forgiven me. I needed to hear that today for a proper perspective.
     For the record, I failed this morning when I snapped at my husband about cheese wrappers...how stupid is that?  Getting ready for church is sometimes a testy situation.  We struggle with getting to church on time. Thankfully,  only a few minutes later we were joking around...he doesn't appear to be dragging me around on a park bench. One quote I wrote down from today that seemed applicable given the name of my blog and this post was by Norman Cousins. "Life is an adventure in forgiveness."
     For the following week and rest of my challenge, I will be intentionally starting out my day with asking God who I need to forgive or ask forgiveness of. Let me start out this endeavor by saying, Honey, will you please forgive me for my explosion over the cheese wrappers?

Day 12: Small Adjustments

     This week I looked at the state standards for what my kids should be learning for their grade level. Although they are both very bright girls, I knew I haven't been challenging my second grader enough--specifically in the writing arena. At first, I felt overwhelmed with guilt and thought about what a bad teacher I've been.  I wasn't focused on everything I have taught her and all the things she is way ahead in as far as the standards go. I have two choices at this point: make little adjustments to get her to meet requirements or give up. As silly as it sounds, I wanted to give up. I know from experience that if she doesn't like something it leads to tears and serious moaning on her part. We started using "Handwriting Without Tears" this year for her, and when she realized she needed to change her grip, she scribbled through the "out" on her book. It now reads "Handwriting With Tears". She hates writing...which is hard for me to relate to. She loves talking (which I can relate to), so I tried to explain that all she had to do was write down what she would normally tell me. There were still tears when she realized that she had to read 12 pages of history.  She quickly problem solved and asked if she could split the assignment over several days. Of course, I was agreeable to that as long as it's done before next week. I would've never suggested she do history on Saturday; but since it was her idea, there were no tears. I also asked her to work on writing a report on bearded dragons...part on facts she's read and part to persuade my hubby and me that she should really have another pet despite having a dog, cat, and soon to be chickens. She is saving up for one and has already checked four or five books out about them from the library (she's been spouting off all kinds of facts to me in the last three weeks). At first she was skeptical, but when she realized that my hubby and I were wavering about whether or not to give her some of her Christmas money toward her bearded lizard project, she didn't utter a word of complaint. Small adjustments with a little motivation can make all the difference.
     My small group read the book, "Motherhood: the guilt that keeps on giving" by Julie Barnhill a couple of years ago. What a good book! Not only was I forced to come face to face with my own humanness  (along with forgiving my mom for a few slip-ups), I was also forced to stop looking at consistency as unachievable. She writes that consistency is not equivalent with perfection (I'm paraphrasing here). Consistency implies continuing toward a goal, but it doesn't imply that there are no setbacks along the way (or momentary lapses). Some of my anger stems from my drive for perfection and my guilt over my lack of it. It is totally unreasonable to ever expect me to never yell for the rest of my life. Yesterday my throat felt hoarse from yelling at Harley, our dog. (He totally deserved it in my opinion because he wouldn't stop barking at my friend that he knows is my friend [and has cuddled and played with].) I will still continue to feel no guilt over yelling at an animal...humans are on a different level in my opinion. However,  I am shooting to not be known as "the mom who yells". I want to consistently work toward that goal. When my kids confess that they were afraid to tell me something because they were afraid I'd yell at them, it breaks my heart. I'd like to be seen as approachable and reasonable. The past week and a half have felt like a lot of small adjustments,  but I feel like they are adding up. I'm trying to do my part as God leads me while allowing God be in control of everything I am incapable of doing or preventing.
     I don't want my drive for perfectionism to prevent me from meeting my goal of speaking lovingly to humans and constructively correcting my kids when needed.
    How are you doing with your goals?

Day 10: The White Flag of Surrender

     For two days, there has been no yelling.  While my 4 year old was whining in my ear as we left our house yesterday, I just said, "You are making it very difficult for me not to yell. Hearing you whine makes me feel angry." There is clearly a way to express myself without cutting my child down or losing control of my volume, and I'm beginning to find some balance and satisfaction.
     Waving a white flag has always signified giving up a battle, and asking for peace (and maybe even mercy). Three summers ago when our pastor gave a message on surrendering our battles to God, I walked down the aisle to the cross set up with white flags below it. We
were supposed to pick up a flag to take with us as a reminder of our decision to surrender some battle with God.  That day was the day I laid down my excuses and decided to respect my husband because God asked me to--regardless of whether or not I felt loved by him. It made a world of difference in how I've approached decisions he has made in leading our family.
     The book by John Ortberg that I'm reading has a whole chapter devoted to guess what?  Surrender!  He makes the point that without totally surrendering yourself, you cannot be changed by God. He points out that twelve step programs all include surrendering to a higher power as one of their steps, and it's critical to any success.  On our own will power, we are not strong enough. I'm trying to process this all, but surrender means giving up control.  I don't like giving up control, but I really do want to change...and who is more trustworthy than God. Mr. Ortberg also points out that by surrendering we also leave the results up to God, and that feels a little freeing. I don't want it to be all on my shoulders.
     So for the past couple of days when surprises like sticky rice splatters all over the floor, I'm  saying out loud (sometimes through gritted teeth) to God, "I trust you are in control of every situation." Honestly, it's helping my attitude...maybe you'd like to give it a try too.

Week 1: Setting Goals

     Well, one week is complete of my challenge.  I wish I could say I never yelled, but that would be a lie. Yesterday, when my little one bent the curtain rod, I was very angry...I didn't yell till she refused to go sit in the corner for time-out. Oops! However,  I didn't yell nearly as much this past week. After a week of being much more intentional, it still leaves me wanting more. It is not enough to not raise my voice...the problem is that I can still be unkind at a lower volume. The real challenge is to be kind with my words and to be constructive with my comments, not just refrain from yelling.  I think that is why my girls sometimes feel like I'm yelling even if my voice never raises. At the end of the day, one girl will say I yelled while the other who was right there beside me will say I didn't. It is the tone and the way I say things that are just as damaging as my volume. 
     The book "The Me I Want To Be" by John Ortberg talks about how just as we need God's grace for Salvation, we also need it to become who we want to be. "God's plan is not just for us to be saved by grace--it is for us to live by grace." For me this means letting go of my personal agenda and expectations and trying to focus on what God is asking me to do. It also means leaving the results to Him. That is hard for me...I like to be in control.
     This next week, I'd like to not only be conscious of my volume but how kind/constructive I am being with my words.
      So now you know my goal for this week ...I also met a different goal as of this week for my pregnancy.  I was hoping to make it to my third trimester and still be running. I'm excited to say that I am still running for 30 min. (although slightly slower) Reaching a goal has always felt good, and I'm sure that reaching my goal of changing how I deal with my anger will also feel good...a Christmas present fit for me, my daughters,  and the Birthday King.
     As a side-note, my two year old is not yelling as much either. That REALLY makes me smile!
     What goals are you setting and reaching for?

Day 4: The Other Side

      Well, you already know I'm listening to Mandisa a lot lately.  Her song "These Days" especially speaks to me today. It talks about all the things she doesn't like such as Mondays, bad news, lost keys or long flights; but ultimately God uses these tough days to grow her...and He is constantly with her showing her His love. She concludes how she is thankful for "these days" and for every moment God gives her. (see James 1:2-4) While typing this, Little Miss Potty-Trainer had another accident. I'm not sure if I'm yet at the point to love this moment,  but I'm not angry.
       One huge thing that impacts my anger tollerance is my marital relationship. It's probably honestly more influencial than any of the other triggers I mentioned. Last Tuesday when I mentioned we were adding three people to our feast, my hubby said, "Well, lets get another turkey." Too which I quipped that it was too late to thaw a turkey, but he graciously offered to take care of buying a fresh turkey and would even fry it. I really felt we should just stick with our original turkey since I had ordered it to be large, so we'd have leftovers. We'd be fine with it. He explained that he loved extra turkey, and he'd be happy to help out....it didn't have to all be on me. Side note: I don't like to ask for help, and this wasn't my idea. I started fuming inside. I hate to present myself as being unresonable; but honestly looking back, I can see I was clearly being a bit stubborn.
     He had no idea that earlier in the day I had spent a good amount of time reorganizing the refrigerator; but when he began unloading beverages from a cooler into my neatly organized refrigerator after his suggestion of adding another turkey, I began to see red.    
      Unfortunately, I couldn't see things objectively at the time and simply say, " Hey, could you keep those in the cooler, so I have more room in the fridge?" I felt like I was going to scream if I spoke. It was also time to eat, so I couldn't run off and avoid him till I cooled off. He also at some point mentioned that he actually thought we would have included a few more members of his family in our invite. He was simply stating it (as he later clarified), but I felt like he was saying I had failed which felt unfair to me since I didn't know until that moment that he wanted us to invite them. If I were a cartoon character,  there would have been steam rolling out of my ears.
      I'm not a confrontor. I'm a stuffer. It was probably a good thing that I couldn't run away because within a few moments my hubby picked up on my feelings and addressed them. I wish I could've magically had the mind of Christ, and seen the other side of the issue. After talking about it, I felt a little better. Two of my kids had been sick for the past 3 days, which as all mom's know can make you a little sleep deprived and sensitive. Add to that my current large belly (I'm 29 weeks prego) and the stress if hosting a meal (despite truly wanting to do it). I was a bit of a sitting duck. I wish I could say I rose above it all, but I didn't.
     Had my hubby not confronted me head on, I would've probably taken my frustration out on my kids that evening and possibly the following day even. Lovely, huh? When my hubby recently expressed his ideas about starting/purchasing a business and asking if I'd be open to helping with it, my first response was not joy that he'd want to work with me. I felt overwhelmed.  I don't want to think about any additional responsibility right now. We are having a baby in 8-11 weeks, and I homeschool while balancing our household's food, laundry, budget, and health needs. I waited for a long time before responding to hubby about his thoughts. He'd sent me a text message with his idea, so I prayed before responding (which helped a lot). Later when he spoke to me, he could tell I was burdened by it and told me not to worry about it. As I ran, I asked  God to help me leave my feelings on the treadmill and not let them affect our day of school.  It was all totally out of my control anyway. He answered my prayer, and there was no yelling that day. As I have listened to my hubby's thoughts about businesses, it has been easier to see the other side (which is my best defense in marital differences). When you see the other side it can totally change how you feel. I have to daily pray for the gift of perspective.
     How do you deal with marital or even friendship differences? I love the comments you are leaving. Thanks for sharing.

Day 2: Pull the Trigger

     First off, for those of you who expressed your ability to relate, please know that I will be praying especially for you during this month.
     My first challenge came just hours after my blog post about abstaining from yelling for one month. My two year old caught her foot on a half-full bowl of ramen noodles while exiting her booster seat spilling broth and noodles all over herself, the booster, the chair underneath the booster and the floor (what her foot was doing on the table is mysterious to me). My initial reaction wasn't anger, just that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you realize more work has been added to your already busy schedule.  I did raise my voice as I yelled out, "No, Addy, Stop! Your foot is caught!" My oldest insisted that it didn't count against me since I didn't sound angry, but I felt like a failure anyway. Yesterday a similar situation happened when I was mixing my alfredo sauce, and my two year old informed me that she'd had an accident.  Yes, she's been interested in potty training lately which adds a lovely new dimemsion to my challenge. I felt sick to my stomach, and again dreaded the clean-up. I ended up asking my oldest to stir the sauce while I did a quick change of my little one. Surprise accidents  are triggers. My pulse raced, and my stomach tightened. Not good!
     I know that trying to be somewhere on time like appointments or classes are another trigger for my temper, so getting everyone out the door on time to art class/Bible study was a challenge this morning...however, there was no yelling this morning. This was one small victory for me...I was 5 minutes late though, so it felt like a really small victory.
      Whining children is another trigger for me to yell. Really this could be reduced, but most of the time I feel overwhelmed and choose to "discipline" with my voice. This trigger is really the only one I can control out of these three through consistently discouraging the behavior.The past two days, I've been trying to work beyond my pregnant brain and whisper a prayer for inspiration.  For my youngest two it has meant a lot of time outs, and loss of toys or privileges. Yesterday, my oldest was complaining about the amount of math (which wasn't more than usual), so she was assigned extra problems.  This got the point across plus it was educationally beneficial. Bonus!
    So for those of you joining me on my challenge, what is working for you? What are your triggers? Please help me out and put it in the comments below.

"Say Goodbye" to Yelling

     I love the song by Mandisa "Say Goodbye". It says, "To the voice, to the liar in the mirror saying you can't ever change, to the guilt that's sitting on your shoulder always keeping you wrapped in chains, to the past that you can't undo, to the pain that you're walking through, to the small and the big mistakes, this is what love wants to say, 'Say goodbye, say goodbye. Every day is a brand new mercy. Hello, hello. This is where it starts now. Hello, hello. Everything can turn around in a moment. Here's your moment. You can say goodbye.' There is a grace that you can't imagine. There is a love you can't outrun. There is a peace you can hold on to when your world is coming undone. You don't have to give in to the fear. (You) Don't have to let your story stop here; and when that hand tries to pull you back, you don't have to go back. You don't have to go back to everything that breaks you down. It doesn't have to define you now. Jesus came to take it all away."
     I always thought I was a very patient person till I had children.  I loved puzzles, and doing things that required a lot of concentration,  but one of my worst faults is my tendency to yell when I'm frustrated. As a parent, I'm frustrated a lot. I've been praying about this area of my life for several years now, and although I've made improvements from time to time...my anger keeps popping it's head back up, and I do not control myself. It's embarrassing and frustrating, and most of all terrifying when I watch my girls follow in my footsteps. My two year old has a serious yelling problem, and I feel I am to blame because she is such a parrot at this age. I hate feeling hopeless, like it will never change. I'm tired of confessing this sin over and over along with asking forgiveness from my daughters when I blow it.
     For the next month (till Christmas), I'm going to especially concentrate on breaking this habit (which is what I feel it has become) by asking for God's grace to enable me and empower me to say goodbye to yelling.  There are a lot of projects that I could work on between now and when the next baby comes, but I think this is probably one of the best gifts my next child could have. I have many memories of my mom yelling when I was a child and specifically how awful I felt as a result. I don't want that for my children. Will you help me stay accountable? I promise to be honest...and if I learn anything helpful along the way, I will share it. I've started a book by John Ortberg entitled "The Me I Want To Be: Becoming God's Best Version of You", and already I can see this will be a helpful tool for the journey. The first thing that really struck me about this book is the statement that you are not going to be something you are not. If you are an introvert, you aren't going to change into an extrovert. God delighted in making you exactly who you are...and wants to use your natural qualities for something amazing. I will still always be a passionate person about things I care about, but I don't have to express myself in a way that hurts others around me. Anger is not sin, what I do with it can be. My oldest daughter was shocked when I read about God being angry with the Israelites for worshipping a golden calf. She stopped me and said, "Really, God gets angry?" As if anger in itself is wrong. It is important not to expect that you can somehow get rid of all feelings of anger (which is what I prayed for in the beginning, and silly me, it didn't work). It is part of being human. I'm committing to cessation of yelling for the next month, and hopefully for the rest of my life. Clearly, I'm not referring to life or death matters when yelling is called for...like when my child is darting away from me in the parking lot, and a car is coming. I'm talking about the other 99.5% of the time I yell.
     What would you like to say goodbye to in the next month? Please feel free to share in the comments, and we can hold each other accountable.

Feeling loved

      I remember a time when I despised church because of all the hypocrisy I saw. It seemed like there were only couple of good apples mixed in with the dozens of rotten apples. Everyone seemed to only care about the surface issues, but there was no real love among the people. I felt really sick just thinking about walking into a church.  Honestly though, I generally felt ill at ease around all groups of people starting in my teen years. There was a constant awareness within me that people would be judging me based on what their impression was of me.  I can't tell you how many times people would later tell me how their first impression of me was wrong.  I became convinced that no one would like me, and it made me want to avoid people at all cost. I felt that people who liked me were the exception, not the rule.
      Then I went to something called the Great Banquet for the first time about five years ago, and everything changed. It is a three day event where you are fed well spiritually and physically (I've been pregnant the three times I've gone through...the food is amazing). You give up your phone and watch but gain quiet time to actually listen without distraction. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly loved the way I'd always pictured the church loving each other. I saw real people being real about their flaws, and it deeply moved me. While I was there,  I realized that Christ sought out the most messed up people of His time because they were the ones who needed Him the most. It is no different today. The church is filled with sinners who continue to mess up but are forgiven. God knows I am one of them. After going through my three day weekend,  I knew I wanted to be a part of the church again...but to be real about my flaws. I wanted to show others love without the judgement that had turned me off to the church. I also really felt loved by God, and I finally believed that if God loved me, it didn't matter what anyone else thought of me. It gave me the courage to confess to people as God led me to because my focus was on what He thought of me. His love never changes. There is nothing we can do to make Him love us more, and there is nothing we can do to make Him love us less.
     I just went through another weekend this month; this time I served and shared my own flaws. I love being a part of a community of believers that are not afraid to admit their humanity in the name of helping others see Christ in a new light.  I went away from the weekend with tons of new sisters in Christ, and more fuel for my fire.   
      Maybe you are like I was and feel disillusioned with the church. Maybe you are apart of a church,  but you are in need of a little love. I would invite you to consider going through a three day event. There are lots of different ones depending on your denomination or location including Great Banquet, Tres Dias, Walk to Emmaus, Via de Cristo, or Crusillo. It is just one tool among many that God can use to reach you. I just want you to know that you are officially invited. What you do with the invitation is completely up to you.
    

The Last Drive to Florida

    We had a really wonderful time at Walt Disney World. Our girls met over 19 characters,  went on Dumbo four times, and ate Mickey Mouse waffles every morning. Our older girls had ample access to roller coasters and other thrilling rides.  I even found a new favorite ride that was safe despite my pregnancy...Soarin' at Epcot, which is hang glider simulator. I love the feeling of flying! At the end of the week, I think that running throughout my pregnancy made a huge difference in my stamina at Walt Disney World because I did just fine with all the walking.
     While we were driving down here, I was reminded of the times in my childhood that we drove to Florida, and specifically the last time I had driven to Florida.  It was back when I was only 12 years old. My dad had been sick with cancer for a couple of years; but after two radical neck surgeries to remove the tumors, we were hopeful that he would beat the cancer. Still, there was the nagging thought in the back of our heads that this might be the end of the cancer. I remember being annoyed that we spent four days driving to Florida and another four days driving back from Florida. We actually only spent three days in Florida, even though my parents called it our Florida trip. My brother and I affectionately termed it the "trip TO Florida" because we spent so much time driving...we wanted to hang out with our cousins in Florida instead of stopping at every welcome center on the way down and back. Looking back now, I understand more why we traveled that way. I wonder if my dad knew this would be last time he would ever see this part of the country in this life. My uncle lived in Sarasota, and my mom and dad often drove down in their 26 years of marriage.  In fact, that was where they went on their honeymoon.  This was my dad's last chance to show us some things that he loved. He wanted the chance to show us Opryland, and paid for the fanciest hotel there that I can ever remember staying in...EVER. There was even a huge fountain in the middle of it. I wonder if this is why he insisted on us trying every variety of Goo-Goo Clusters...his favorite candy that was unavailable in Illinois at the time.  I wonder if that is why he took time to stop and have me feel the spanish moss on the trees at a welcome center to Florida despite my mom's look of concern over it. I remember getting my first chance to ride up front with my dad in our car and to navigate him with the atlas. It was the first time I really understood how to read a map. I'll never forget all the things he showed me. Although my brother and I were usually fighting, I remember buying Hubba Bubba and him teaching me how to blow bubbles for the first time on that trip.
      This trip with my family has been a great memory; and so when they wanted to feel the Spanish moss, we encouraged them. When my lizard loving girl discovered the brown anoles all over Disney World, we stopped repeatedly to let her attempt catching them, and we stopped to let our girls wonder at the gorgeous butterfly next to the train station at Magic Kingdom. We let the girls meet that one more character they'd been dying to meet even when we had planned to leave at that point. We really never know when our time is up. This could be our last trip to Florida, so we want them to have precious memories to reflect back on someday too when my husband and I are gone from this world. 
     This last week, I was once again reminded of the fragility of life when my friend said goodbye to her five year old that died of a rare form of brain cancer. I remember talking to her for the first time when her five year old was just a baby (which happened to be her third child), and I was pregnant with our third child too. She gave me some advice on a stroller we were considering purchasing, and we continued our friendship over the years (and through a couple more pregnancies ). Our little girls were even in the same class at church. I found out about her daughter's cancer on my daughter's fourth birthday.  It made me stop, and remember to hold her just a little longer and forgive some of the things she had done that week that annoyed me. This week when I told my little girl about her friend's death, she asked if she hurt anymore. She remembered her having horrible headaches in her class and being in pain. I told her most assuredly that she did not. She's in heaven now, and I can't help being a little jealous. I'd love the chance to tell my dad how much I value that last "trip TO Florida".

Giving up

      Some days are great, and I feel so blessed to be alive and just be me. Other days are awful. Today was awful. This morning,  I began my day by finding out my hubby had run out of a necessary clothing item. Oops!  Then, I was greeted by a pee accident on the floor of my daughter's bedroom. It had gone all through the carpet to the sub-flooring beneath, and I had to move the bed frame in order to allow the floor to dry. (At this point, I was hollering for God's help!) Next a poopy diaper leaked on my stairs when I tossed it down. This all happened 15 minutes before I was supposed to leave. I didn't keep my cool, and I wasn't on time for the girl's art class. I had to apologize several times.
     I thought I just had a rough start, but after getting groceries, more "fun" ensued. I put my daughter in charge of our dog, so I could get tweezers from inside  to remove a tick on a cat. When I came down, she confessed she had forgotten she was in charge of the dog...and we had no idea where he was. A few minutes later, he sheepishly wandered up the driveway with something dark brown all over the front half of his body. It smelled very much like some foul poop. Oh how I love my keen sense of smell during pregnancy. It's all I could do to keep from vomitting. My negligent daughter had the job of bathing him; but when he escaped from the bathroom, I dragged him back to the shower myself. That's when I noticed the tick embedded in his ear. I've successfully taken out several since our move, but this one came apart piece by piece. Our dog lost quite a bit of hair around the site due to my trouble, and he still smelled awful.  At that point, I just gave up on my day going any better. I relaxed, and realized it would all be over soon...eventually bedtime will come. I always aim to have our school done by early afternoon,  but today it wasn't done till 6pm--not a shining example of the joys of homeschooling, but we did have fun playing a couple of card games during math for my second grader that taught sums of ten. Sometimes it is easier to just give up your notions of how your day should go, enjoy the good moments that are there, and laugh at the bad ones.
     I'm super thrilled that we will be taking advantage of Disney homeschool days next week, and a vacation sounds really, really good after a day like today.

Roller Coaster Rides

     As we have looked at going to Disney for this fall, one of my biggest disappointments has been that it will be unsafe for me to go on any roller coaster rides because I'm pregnant.  This strikes me as just a bit ironic because my life since finding out I am pregnant has felt a lot like roller coaster ride. However, there is no sign that says women aren't allowed on the roller coaster of life.  When we moved into our house, I felt like we had arrived at our destination. I wanted to just sit back and enjoy the cotton candy after the ride we had earlier this year.
     Most of you are not aware of the roller coaster ride I have been on this past week. You know about my high point of finding out about having a little boy, but this past week has had a couple of lows as well. There have been some developments with my husbands job, so that it now appears to be just another stop along the way...not a permanent resting place as I had hoped. I'm not sure if this means another move is in order or not.  Emotionally this is challenging to me especially as a pregnant woman. I don't want to think about change. I want to nest.
     It takes a conscious choice to decide to think about the positives this situation.  I must admit that I've felt discouraged at times. A week ago on Tuesday I felt myself slowly sinking into a dark pit of depression, despite having just spent a whole weekend of positivity all about hope at the Love Life Women's Weekend. It has been a battle. Looking back at last week, I'm amazed at how quickly I forgot about the amazing ways God has provided for us. How could I ever doubt him when God has been so faithful to me?
     Saturday,  I went on a walk just to be quiet and listen to God as part of a Bible study I'm doing this fall called "Experiencing God". I found a bright red feather on the side of the path and despite hearing my mother's voice in my head telling me all the tiny bugs that were on it, I turned around and picked it up.  I said to God laughingly, "Are you preparing me for flight?" In my heart, I felt this strong impression that although I'd gone on a huge roller coaster last week that He wanted to show me how to fly when it got too overwhelming for me (like when I felt like I was sinking into depression). "Very good!", I said, "but how?" Instantly, my mind was taken back to when I learned how to cross-country ski.  One of the first things the instructor said was to look where you wanted to go. If you look at the ditch or the tree, that is where you'll end up. However, if you keep your eyes on the path your body will follow. In order to fly when I am sinking, all I have to do is lift my head up and take my eyes off my circumstances. If I fix my eyes on Jesus, I can feel my heart lifting up.
     This doesn't mean I won't go through the valleys of life. As a good friend pointed out, that's where God can really teach us. When it gets too overwhelming though, that's when I can change my focus and fly instead of sinking into the pit of despair.
      Mentally, I can picture my hubby and I in the front car of the roller coaster we're on. Jesus is sitting between both of us. I can picture Him slapping my husband on the back and grinning--maybe even letting out a little whoop of excitement as we slowly go upward toward the next hill. I can picture Him looking at the concern on my face, and leaning over to help me raise my hand to hold my hubby's already lifted hands. He then wraps His arms around my pregnant belly to provide extra protection from the bumps and hills ahead and whispers in my ear, "It's going to be ok! I will never leave you or forsake you." Click, click, click...here we go.

I Know I Should be Asleep

     I can't sleep. The news that we are having a boy for the first time is slowly sinking in, and all the emotions are a little overwhelming at this point.
     I've heard our sonographer tell us "It's a girl!" so many times that my initial reaction to her saying "It's a boy!" was shock and disbelief. Before this pregnancy, I've analyzed how different each one is and given my husband hope that I think it just might be a boy--not this time. All I could see were all the similarities. I was convinced that this was a girl. We even had a name that we agreed on. The last two babies have had to wait till they were almost born to have a name picked out. Looks like this one will have to wait a while too for a name.
      I grew up with one brother, and though it was never spoken out loud, we both knew who our parent's favorite was. I was my daddy's girl, and could do no wrong. My brother was clearly my mom's favorite. (Of course, my brother still tries to argue now that my mom unfairly favors me...but seriously, who does she can oodles of his favorite food for and who does she plan every family meal around??) Don't get me wrong, I love my mom; but I always felt like a bother. She was always working on something.  I'm sure she played with me at some point, but I don't have any memories of it. It wasn't until I was a teenager that I even actually remember my mom sitting through an entire movie without having a sewing project or laundry to fold while she watched. I remember my dad pushing me on the swings,  but never my mom. I remember cooking pretend food and having "meals" with him, but not her. She was the oldest of seven; so for her, doing the work so I even had a chance to play most of the time was a new concept...and how she showed her love. I had hardly any children in my neighborhood save two families that lived next door to us for a couple of years a peice. I was devastated when they moved. When I found out my favorite parent was sick with cancer, I was even more devastated. When he died though, I had a chance to really connect with my mom for the first time, and see her as being more fun than I had ever known her to be before. This wasn't till I was 13 though.
     When I found out the first time that I was having a girl, I was a little disappointed and sad.  I was afraid that she would naturally just love my hubby and not feel a connection to me the way I felt toward my mom as a young child.  I thought maybe moms just naturally love their sons more. You can imagine my surprise when I realized how much I loved my little girl, and she truly loved me. She truly loves her daddy too, but at least 50% of the time I'm tempted to say she is still a momma's girl. She still asks me to sleep with her at night; and for the three years she went away to school, I listened in disbelief at how much she missed me (all the while with tears streaming down her face). She still runs over to me for a hug before I leave, or even when she just feels sad. I've grown to understand how a deep a mother's connection to her daughter can be. Having four girls has been very healing for me. I know that they all have a great connection with my hubby, but I've watched them all love me too. Daddy is still primarily more fun than me, but I do have my moments that I shine. We do fun things together (like go to Chuck E. Cheese and take hot cocoa to the zoo to drink while we watch the animals).  I've pushed them on the swings a lot, and I do watch movies with them as much as once a week with my hands empty. However,  they help me with work that I never touched as a young child. There is a trade-off for them, but they don't seem to mind.
     I think deep down inside I've convinced myself that there is probably something wrong with me-that I'm only meant to mother girls. I think I rationalized that God knew I'd somehow mess up a boy, so He never gave me one. I've written about my challenge to submit to my hubby, and having more than four children has been one of those challenges...not that my hubby demands more children, but the objection that permanently altering our bodies so we can't have more offspring feels very unnatural was my husband's idea. It is easy for me to see his point and agree with him; but as I've said before this, I wasn't planning on being pregnant again this soon. I was hoping for a little more time before I plunged back into the attachment and sleep deprivation that a newborn brings. I've honestly struggled with my feelings over this a lot. It has been a daily choice to accept that this was God's timing for our next one. I always wanted to have between 2 and 4 children.  More than 4 seemed too big for me, but I'm so glad that we are having a fifth. If I would have stopped at four (which was my plan), I would have missed out on experiencing a son.
     This truly feels like a gift (dare I say) for honoring how my husband feels. I love my girls, but I'm so excited to have a chance to say to others "how different boys are".

The baby is a...

Boy! Wow! It's hard to believe it. We are all really excited. I'll write more later.

Just around the bend (part 2)

      On Sunday I will be 20 weeks pregnant, and we will find out the gender of our little one later this week. Stay tuned because I will announce it! I feel so much movement now whenever I stand still (which doesn't happen a lot). However, I've had a lot of time the past couple of days to be quiet and sit still. This weekend I'm having a little getaway with my mom. God bless my dear hubby and mother-in-law for watching the other kids! What a great time we are having listening to Joyce Meyer teach. Her book "Battlefield of the Mind" has made a huge impact on my life because I was a habitual negative thinker since I was a child. For years, I never thought about choosing what to think about. Awful thoughts would just run around in my head, and I thought I had no choice. Now, I'm much more intentional on what I dwell on.
      Reading back over my last post this morning brought back more memories. Lest you think that I have it all together, I'd like to tell you one more story. There was a period of time in between the start-up company but before the consulting offer where my faith muscles were very stretched. One morning as I was running, I was so upset with God that I began yelling at God "When are you going to do something? What are you waiting for?" I began pounding my feet on the treadmill and running as fast and hard as I could. If I could have, I would have broken the treadmill because I was so angry. My hubby who was upstairs came down to the basement to find out if I was ok. He asked me if I was yelling at someone,  and I explained that I was "talking" to God.
      My mom always says that it is ok to be angry with God and talk to Him about it...at least you are still communicating. Of course, I look back now; and I feel saddened that I would be so angry. I can easily see now how God was guiding us every step of the way.
     Our adventures have not been easy, but I have constantly felt God's presence.  I have never been alone, and I know He has carried me through the times of unbelief because in my heart I truly do want to believe.  He can look beyond my anger to the pain and fear that lies at the bottom of it all. He loves me despite my doubts and questions, and He brings answers in his time. He MAKES me lie down in green pastures to rest and wait even when I want to see what's just around the bend.

Just around the bend

     Yesterday when I read "Jesus Calling",  I was gently reminded of our tough day just one year ago. My hubby left his very nice paying job in March of 2011 to take a lower paying job with a start-up company, only to have to leave six weeks later. At that point, he started a home business. What a roller coaster ride that was! In late June, he began consulting for the company he currently works for, but the position only ran through the end of September.  I remember starting our first year of homeschooling very unsure of what our future held, while firmly trusting that God was sure.
      The company was pleased with my hubby's performance, and interviewed him for a position that he was very interested in. I thought clearly God had provided this as an answer to our prayers. One year ago yesterday,  we found out that they had decided to hire from within. I was so sad and disappointed--not with my hubby, but with God. Where else could I turn to though, so I continued to pray and believe that something out there was better for us.
     Little did I know that October 24th would be the start date for my husband to have the position he truly desired. I didn't know what was right around the corner. I couldn't see the future. I want to encourage you that if you are in a tough spot today that God can see the future,  and He promises to be with you till the day you die. He has an awesome plan for you, just hold on.

The planner

     I told you that I like to plan out my future. Would it surprise you to know that I starting planning a trip to Disney for this fall back in 2007? Now there are a lot of challenges regarding the trip.  The discounted tickets that I had planned on seem to be an impossibility because of the dates they are offered. Being pregnant was really not how I planned on going to Disney.  I had been looking forward to at least a couple of roller coaster rides, but that has all changed. As my pregnancy ticks away, my time of being more independent feels like it is quickly slipping away.
      A lot of times I find myself clinging to the familiarity of my plans instead of anticipating the good things that are still in store for me. It is difficult for me to accept when we don't complete what I had laid out for us to finish on our homeschooling planners. However, some of the most memorable moments of learning (that I know my children will carry with them the rest if their lives) have come when I am not trying to be control our schedule-times that I can see them hanging on my every word.
     It is hard to control the panic I feel when we are late for yet another appointment,  even if it is only by a couple of minutes. In the last month, I've realized what a difference it makes in my childrens attitude when God is able to help me keep my emotions in check and not holler about the fact that we are 5 minutes late. We've late several times in the past month, and they are completely oblivious to it. They walk in smiling instead of trying to keep up with my frantic pace.
     Planning is great to give direction and purpose; but without flexibility, it is just one more thing to be enslaved to. It is supposed to be helpful, not run our lives. My goal is becoming to plan for each day , but to enjoy it if my plans fall apart, knowing the Creator of the universe is really in charge of my life. I don't want it any other way.

Skeletons In The Closet

     I woke up at 3 in the morning several days after going through Great Banquet with a strong feeling that I needed to tell the truth to my mom about an event that happened when I was a Senior in high school.
      A few months before I turned 18, I made the decision to have sex with my boyfriend (who is my dear hubby that I write so much about). I was afraid of losing him, but I had no idea that my choice would lead me to a life lived in more fear than I had ever experienced before. The first time we were together, I became pregnant. I knew that if anyone found out that I would be kicked out of the small private Baptist school I attended. I'd seen it done to another girl that they'd discovered was pregnant and kicked out just a week before the end of her Senior year. 
    Contact sports that we played in P.E. became an issue, and I also had to fake several periods (so my mom would be in the dark). One lie led to so many others. I constantly lived with the fear of anyone knowing, and I became very paranoid. We planned on telling our parents over Christmas break, and hopefully I could switch to a different private school that would allow me to finish out my senior year. I dreaded telling my
mom because I knew it would break her heart. I had always played the role of the good girl in my family, and I really didn't want to lose her trust.
      When I was 14 weeks pregnant,  I began bleeding in large quantities and experienced what I now know to be contractions. I had been spotting for a couple of weeks, but I knew some women that did that through their entire pregnancies. I called up my boyfriend who was the only one that knew, and he tried to console me. It was a horrible experience. I ended up having a miscarriage in the upstairs bathroom of my house, and later that night I snuck out of my house for the first and only time to meet up with my boyfriend and go to the emergency room to confirm that my miscarriage was complete. Because I had turned 18 just two weeks prior, I was considered an adult and my mother was never notified.
      Later that night, I left against medical advice, still knowing I had a few hurdles to jump before this was all "over", and I had officially "gotten away with it". The next day was a school day, but I knew there was no way that I would be up for attending. If I didn't stop bleeding by that Friday, they would readmit me to the hospital for a D&C. Even if I did stop bleeding,  I had a doctor's appointment for Friday afternoon during school hours that I would have to sneak out for.
     The following morning my mom took one look at my white-as-a-sheet face and asked if I felt all right. The night before, I had told her I was having really bad cramps because of the my period. I simply told her how awful my cramping still was, and she let me take the day off from school.   Thursday night I was still bleeding,  but amazingly by Friday morning, I had stopped. Later that afternoon I successfully snuck out of school for my doctor appointment  and reentered an hour later without being missed (I had only missed study hall).
     At first it was a relief that no one had found out. I thought life could go back to normal, but the only problem with that was I was no longer the same person. I was dealing with the grief of losing a child, and all the lies that I told that I was planning on explaining still hung over my head since no one knew. The guilt was horrible, and overwhelming. I had no one to talk to except for my boyfriend; and though he was wonderfully kind, he soon became tired of my neediness. I became seriously depressed, and I literally felt like I was losing my mind.  My senior year was an awful memory. I watched other girls my age get pregnant out of wedlock, and I heard every snide remark said behind their back by so-called "Christians". They professed to love Christ but were incapable of loving others. I decided I wanted nothing to do with the church and their hypocrisy. For nearly seven years, I rarely stepped foot into a church; but once we began having children of our own, I slowly woke up to the fact that I did want them to go to church and know about God. Five years after our first child was born,  God began calling me back to Him. That fall when I went through the Great Banquet was a huge turning point for me. I realized how much I wanted to be a part of the church, and truly love others the way Christ calls us to. I want to change others perceptions of the church by being genuine and authentic, not pretending to have it all together. God began asking me to uncover my lies, and get real with those I'd tried to fool.
      When I woke up in the middle of the night, I tried to go back to sleep. I lay there for a long time telling God why it was a bad idea to tell my mother about my miscarriage. Finally, I did agree that I would tell her, but I asked Him for a sign as to when. That was when I realized the date was November 14th, 2007. God woke me up on the 13 year anniversary of my miscarriage. I decided that was a pretty good sign. I called her later that day to tell her that I had something to talk to her about the next time I was home.
     For the past 13 years I had lived in fear that if anyone knew my secret, they would despise me and not be my friend anymore, let alone love me. I always felt that I had to be perfect in order to be loved. I don't know who I thought I was fooling. If you are around me for even a few minutes,  I'm sure you could see how imperfect I am. However, that was the stupid lie I believed.  That Thanksgiving when I told my mom, she responded with so much love that I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I realized that nothing could EVER change her love for me. Two years later when I was given the opportunity to share my story with a small group of women, I was amazed by their response and by the people who later told me how much my story had helped them. I ended up sharing my story with them on the 15 year anniversary of my miscarriage. God's timing is amazing.
     The following year, I was asked to share my story publicly at a kick-off rally for "40 Days for Life".  This is a peaceful pro-life group that organizes a prayer and fasting vigil for 40 days along with community outreach programs for those in need of help. Some of you may be wondering where abortion fits into my story. I'm sad to admit that because of the depth of my fear of others finding out (and not being ready to be a mom) I called to find out the details of when and where I could have an abortion performed. I will never stand in judgment of those of you who have ever had a similar experience. The only reason I did not have an abortion is that my boyfriend said that it was absolutely not an option. I loved him and couldn't stand the thought of losing him, so I didn't pursue it any further. My heart truly goes out to girls that feel abortion is wrong (as I always have), but are so afraid of others knowing that they will do anything. I'm involved with "40 Days For Life" because I want to be there to comfort another girl that is just as afraid as I was and offer her my help.
     It was only after I was willing to be real about my secrets that God opened my eyes and heart to others in need around me. Sharing my story has changed my life for the better.
 
"40 Days For Life" fall campaign is from Sept. 26-Nov 4. If you would like to be involved in this international peaceful organization, please click on the link below for details of how to do so:
www.40daysforlife.com

A Tumor, Poison Ivy, and Strep Throat-Oh My!

     I am convinced that once you know the truth about Jesus and the way to heaven, that Satan's primary goal is to try to steal your joy and make you discontented.
     This past week we've faced several challenges. Harley, our dog, was diagnosed with a histiocytoma. After doing testing, we were relieved to find out it is benign and should go away in 7-8 weeks. The tumor seemed to show up in just a matter of hours on his lip; and for the first couple of days, I was convinced that he'd merely been nosy and either gotten stung or pricked by a thorn. However when we took in our kittens for their shots,  the vet took one look at the picture and video on my phone and suggested we bring him in. Nothing life-threatening...just an annoyance and one more bill to pay.
     I somehow got poison ivy on my arm, and now new patches of itchiness are showing up on my body elsewhere.  It began showing up the same day that we found out we'd have to bring Harley in to be tested. Again, clearly not life-threatening...but very annoying!
      On the same day we took Harley in for testing, I took my oldest child in for a throat culture, and she tested positive for strep throat...and two more members had symptoms by the next day. Half of our family is now being treated with antibiotics. Thank God that it is readily treatable, and thanks to our five rounds with strep two years ago, I'm rather adept at the cleaning regiment required ( change toothbrushes, clean all door knobs, light switches, and phones...and replace the hand towels with paper towels, etc., etc.) Again annoying, but not even close to life-threatening. I have to tell you that there was a personal moment of panic within me when I found out she was positive. Last year we had zero visits to the doctor for illness; but the previous year, it felt like we were there weekly if not bi-weekly. My oldest missed 10 days of school all due to strep throat. She already had her tonsils removed two years prior to our year of the "strep throat plague". I learned to have a lot more compassion for moms that struggle with their kids being sick. Our kids had been relatively healthy up until that year. I learned first hand how badly and responsible a mom feels. I kept asking myself, "Am I doing something wrong? Why does everyone keep getting sick?" Everyone was on antibiotics for two rounds,  and the oldest siblings had five rounds.
     Last week was also emotionally challenging as well as physically challenging. I can also almost guarantee that if you begin a book concerning improving your marriage,  Satan will try to tempt you beyond what you thought possible to fail at what your learning, and God will allow you a million opportunities to practice all that you've been reading. I started a book a couple of weeks ago, and it was no accident that I had a ton of challenges last week. It seemed like every topic we discussed were all ones that I had very strong opinions on. I am happy to say that by the end of the week we were able to communicate about a topic I felt passionate about without either of us yelling or getting out of control (which is a miracle for me); so despite the rough start, I felt that last week we grew as a couple in our communication and confrontation skills (which is something I definitely struggle with).
     Last week was hard,  but it brought to mind one of my favorite verses in the Bible. 2 Cor. 1: 3-5 says,"
What a wonderful God we have-He is the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the source of every mercy, and the one who so wonderfully comforts and strengthens us in our hardships and trials. And why does He do this this? So that when others are troubled, needing our sympathy and encouragement,  we can pass on to them this same help and comfort God has given us." (The Living Bible translation)
     I hope and pray that your week is going smoothly; and if it's not, I pray that you may experience God's comfort because in time you can encourage someone else who is experiencing what you are struggling with.

Homeowners Once Again

     Yesterday was our closing for our new house, and I was overwhelmed again by how amazingly good God really is. 
     We have six girls in our new neighborhood that live within a mile of us that all homeschool like us. They were all over at out house at one time a couple of days ago, and let me tell you that 10 girls in one house can make a lot of noise...but there was so much joy on my girls' faces that I couldn't help but feel so happy with them. Growing up, I had only two girls that were my age in our neighborhood; and they moved away after a couple of years. I hated that we had no kids to play with because my brother (who is three and a half years older than me) had very little desire to play with me as soon as he reached the ripe age of 8. This probably stems from the fact that he had figured out that if he did anything questionable that I would tattle on him. My brother played the role of the family stinker, and was only primarily interested in mischief by that age. My brother regularly told me that a tattle-tailer goes to hell in an effort to get me to stop, but it didn't work. I always longed for a neighborhood that had a few girlfriends for me. My girls now have what I dreamed of as a child.
     My husband mentioned shortly after we moved in that our property  has everything that he ever dreamed of as a boy...a pond to fish in, a big barn to play in, and woods to go exploring in. Our kids are getting to experience what he dreamed of as a child too.
     It really boggles my mind when I think of how God put this all together for us when we had only a week before we had to be out of our house. He even gave us things that we didn't even know we'd want like the sauna in the basement which my hubby has found really improves his breathing at night now that it's his allergy season. I wouldn't have even thought to ask for two ovens in my kitchen, but I've longed to be able to host more family gatherings. Shortly after we moved in, my hubby and I both agreed that it'd be fun to host Thanksgiving and Christmas this year.
     Now I'm not trying to say that the house is perfect. My hubby and I agreed that when we moved in, we would be the picture of contentment. We would only fix things that weren't functional instead of things that were cosmetically unappealing. We have plenty of time for that in the next 50 years. However, my hubby quickly built a compost pile for us because that is priority for our family. After he fixed the leaking shower in our master bathroom and after it took what felt like 20 minutes to wash the soap out of our hair from the super low-flow shower head, we also agreed a new shower head was needed. However, our new fixture is silver and the knob to turn on the shower is brass colored. Normally this would have been something that would have been changed. However it is still fully functional and only aestheticly disturbing, so it is staying for now. I could also tell you about the lovely floral carpet going up our stairs that matches my mom's couch. It is still fully functional though, so it is staying along with the gorgeous plaid carpet in our girl's room. It's all just small stuff in the big picture.
    With all that said, I'm really so grateful to be a homeowner once again. What a wonderful feeling to be able to settle!
   

Red bumps

     It's so easy to complain.

     Yesterday,  I was feeling a little frustrated by the lack of progress that I've made in unpacking this past week.  Most of my free time has been taken up because of the little red bumps showing up on my family.  We suspect it is fleas at this point, and have taken measures to make it as hard as possible for them to multiply.  This has meant a lot of vacuuming in our house full of carpet (along with mattresses), washing everything with borax that is washable,  and deep freezing the rest for close to a week...there are too many stuffed animals to do at one time, so it also meant packing them up out of the house to freeze in batches.
     Those of you who know me,  know how natural I try to keep everything.  I'm not a big fan of chemicals especially while I'm pregnant. I even abstained from nail polish during my first two pregnancies because it contained dibutyl phthalate (which has since been removed, but was supposed to cause birth defects)...so the thought of failing is scary for me. Flea bombs would be difficult to accept. That would be the next step though.  I think I'm doing the right things, but the proof is in the pudding.
     Needless to say, I've been a bit tense about it. First of all, we weren't even sure what was causing the bumps earlier in the week, and quite honestly we could still be wrong. Thursday night when my girls described bugs in their bedrooms that fit a fleas description, I was initially relieved.  However,  then I realized that it meant spending all Friday morning cleaning, washing, and packing. I was a bit grumpy at first. Then, I began purposefully thanking God for the nice Dyson vacuum to suck up all the fleas. As I put all the linens and pillows in my new washing machine, I thanked God that my dear hubby bought me a wonderful new machine with the largest capacity possible,  so it only took three loads to do all the linens instead if 7 or 8 loads that it would have taken my machine at the old house. I even began praying for God to supernaturally zap the bugs I'd missed. 
     I started singing a song about it to the tune of "Today is the Day" by Lincoln Brewster (much to the chagrin of my older girls, who roll their eyes and giggle when I alter familiar words). My little ones soon joined in though.
     Still, yesterday I felt discouraged looking at the stacks of boxes I'd hoped to get to this week. When one of my girls asked why I was yelling yesterday at them for taking so long to get out to the car to take them for a play date, I realized it wasn't so much about them as it was the fact that I'd been too focused on work and not allowing enough play. I was also a little frustrated with how rough this week had been. I felt exhausted.
     I read "Jesus Calling" by Sarah Young yesterday, and I truly felt like Jesus was speaking to me. It read, " Expect to encounter adversity in your life, remembering that you live in a deeply fallen world. Stop trying to find a way that circumvents difficulties. The main problem with an easy life is that it masks your need for Me. When you became a Christian, I infused My very Life into you, empowering you to live on a supernatural plane by depending on Me. Anticipate coming face to face with impossibilities: situations totally beyond your ability to handle."
     This past week has made me even more aware of the general challenges of life that I will continue to face as long as I continue to live, and my need to relax and trust God to get me through the challenges including little red bumps. Also, did I mention that God has allowed me to escape unscathed from all but two little bumps while I've watched everyone else get somewhere between 5 and 50?
     It's so easy to complain, but the truth is God is good.

How We Stay Together

     I thought this might be a fun time to share why we decided to homeschool. Jill Savage is doing her Hearts at Home Third Thursday Blog Hop, and the topic is "family togetherness". First of all, I'm not trying to imply that everyone who misses their children should homeschool; but when I see post after post on facebook about crying mommas, it makes me remember those days. I think that some of them might find homeschooling a good fit for their family. There was nothing wrong with our public school that we sent our girls to for three years.  The teachers were fabulous, and I felt very good about the education they were getting there. The only thing that really put me ill at ease is when I began to get the feeling that the education  board was making decisions for the school based solely on money, and not what was best for my child by cancelling a great effective program (not that I don't understand the importance of a balanced budget...we face the same challenges at home!).
     With that being said,  the primary reason we began homeschooling was wanting to be more involved in my girls lives. There is only so much time you can spend at the school when you have two little ones in tow. I also hated all the tears of my oldest when she told me regularly how much she just missed me. She loved school; she just wanted me there with her. It broke her heart, and it broke mine as well. I also began seeing a huge disconnect between the older ones and their younger siblings that disappeared by the end of the summer months. I just wanted the togetherness to continue, not stop as soon as school began.
     I also said that my children were a priority, but unfortunately house work sometimes ranked above them.  When I began homeschooling, I realized what a huge responsibility I now had in teaching them. It was easier to make them a priority over all the work that could be done,  and guess what? They would spend thirty minutes helping with house work later in the day when school was finished, and it was a win both ways. I was able to spend a lot more time with them reading, and talking, and learning with them. Conversely, they learned life skills like how to wash dishes or fold laundry. When they were in school, I felt so guilty asking them for help when I knew how hard they were working at school plus needing to complete their thirty minutes of homework every evening.
     The greatest thing I gained from choosing to homeschool last year was actually knowing my child again. It was too easy to loose touch with them when their teacher saw more of them in a week than I did.
     I don't know if we will homeschool our children forever. We will evaluate it year by year in the same way we did when they went to public school. My hubby and I am confident that this year the best choice for us is still to homeschool.