A Natural Mother

          I look at our cat Tiger, and I'm awe...and a little jealous.  She's not even a year old, but she gave birth to eight amazing kittens last week. There was no midwife to hold her hand; although judging by the frantic exodus of the other cats when I opened the porch door, I'd say her fellow cats heard and saw zmore than they wanted. All day long she willing jumps into the box with the kittens and nurses them till they are happily asleep (there is no pediatrician advising her not to nurse them to sleep). Occasionally, I see her jump out for a cat nap in solitude, food, or water. I cannot imagine nursing that many little ones at once, let alone as new mom. Yet, she does it all effortlessly. She even purrs. There's not even a fellow parent to help her out. It makes me feel like a bit of a whiner. She makes motherhood look easy.  Motherhood is difficult and challenging for me, and anyone else who is honest.

            Of course, she never deals with switching out clothes for different seasons or preparing meals, or figuring out crazy things like which orthodontists to go to...or loses her credit card (I'm speaking from very recent experience). Her boy doesn't fall down stairs while attempting to escape the back porch and get hen-pecked on his eyelid after falling onto the hen, making him look like the perfect model for an article entitled "How to Fail at Keeping Your Child Supervised and Safe". She happily nurses for weeks till they grow up and start catching their own dinner or eating from the cat bowl...not for months or even years as the World Health Organization recommends for human babies. She feels no pressure to make decisions about schools or sports or budgets. She doesn't have to cut birds from her diet to because her kittens are sensitive to them. (I tried adding gluten back into Mr. Blue Eyes diet once again, only to have the phlegmy noise return to his breathing within twelve hours...Gracie immediately noticed he was "purring" again.) Life isn't all peaches for her though. She gave birth to eight, but one died shortly after it's birth. Another still had it's placenta attached and appeared to be dead because of it's failure to find her and start nursing. Thankfully,  Half-pint stroked the cool kitten and it moved enough to prove it still had a little bit of fight left (we cut the dried placenta the following day when Tiger still failed to remove it). It's a week later and it's impossible to tell that one apart from it's siblings. I guess we all need a little help from time to time. I found out this week that the verse our girl's had memorized for church this month is Galatians 6:9 which says, "So let's not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don't give up, or quit." It's been a good reminder of the rewards of perseverance, as I've also cut up half a dozen ticks in the past couple of days. Keep on parenting, dear friends. It will be worth it in the end!

The Colors on the Canvas

           It's blog hop time...kind of. I realize it's Sunday and not Thursday,  but some of you may be like me and just now getting around to reading through your email's from this past week, only to catch up on your favorite blogs. Some of you may be even more like me, soothing your inner introvert at 3am by blogging in peace and quiet. If it means something to just one of you reading this, then it is totally worth it. After all, it's better to come late to the party than stay at home. The topic for this month's Hearts at Home blog hop was "Love Your Story". 
            I grew up watching ABC's Wide World of Sports on Saturdays and loved the line about "the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat." The images they showed were always so poignantly perfect for those words. If I had video tape footage of my entire life, I could show you brilliant images for both of those phrases. Those words are my story in a nutshell. Since no such video exists, let me paint a picture for you.
           You'd need to start with some warm corals. They would represent all the love I felt from my mom and my dad. I was wanted and loved in my family,  especially since my mom had lost three babies before me. There were a few sad moments in my childhood, like the loss of pets, that caused a few grumpy streaks of gray in my early childhood,  but not enough to overtake the warm corals.
         My first stroke of blue came on my seventh birthday, when I sang at my best friend's funeral (along with my other fellow first graders). I had heard the shocking news just a few days earlier, and I couldn't believe that he had actually died. A motorcyclist had raced through an intersection, crashed into the back seat of the car he was riding in, and killed him instantly. Thankfully,  my parents both helped me process what had happened and led me to pray to God for help and comfort. So much of my life was still wrapped in love that there was coral added to that blue, which left some soft lavendar at the heart of me.
          Then there was an even more intense stroke of blue, so intense that it bordered on the bright cobalt blue that I am so fond of. Six and a half years after my first loss, my dad died of cancer. My dad was a pastor, loved all things holistic long before that was trendy (he plowed up almost our entire yard to plant various beans one year), and had young children not ready to be without their father. I was just thirteen and my brother was almost seventeen. I turned to God again because that was how I was raised and that is what made the most sense to me. He wrapped me in so much love that my cobalt blue had some rich purple to parts to it.
            The next portion of my life was so dark that you'd have to paint this part with black. Five and a half years later, I was left with another loss. This one wasn't public or even on anyone's radar. In fact, I held this loss as a secret for thirteen years. There are always two sides to everything. God whispered, "Trust me! I'm still here, and I will bring good from this!" (Romans 8:28) Satan sneared at my loss, hoping I'd wallow in self-pity, and believe that no one could love me if they really knew about secret parts of my picture. (You can read about that part of my canvas here.)
            I let myself drift away from God because I distanced myself from "the church", from the hypocrites that I couldn't stand to be apart of. However, motherhood brought me new surprises...a desire for our children to know God. How could I teach them what I was unsure of though? More black snuck onto my picture with the experience of a miscarriage after my first two girls were born, but a soft white glow began to cast it's light on all that black (including my hidden secrets) till it was pushed to the outer limits of my canvas through an event called "The Great Banquet". A few nights after that my secrets came into the open, and I began sharing that part of my story with others (the first time was on the fifteen year anniversary). That's when I finally accepted God's love and began reaching out to others as part of an imperfect church that was made up of us very imperfect people. That love was so warm you'd notice some brilliant red on my canvas as well as the white glow that grew and grew. It overflowed into everything and touched everyone around me. All my life began to make sense in light of this verse: 2 Corinthians 1:3-5.  It says, "All praise to the God and Father of our Master, Jesus the Messiah! Father of all mercy! God of all healing counsel! He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us. We have plenty of hard times that come from following the Messiah, but no more so than the good times of his healing comfort—we get a full measure of that, too."
          Last year, I was challenged to look for patterns in my life while participating in the study "Believing God". We split our life into five sections; and since I was 36 at the time, that meant looking at seven year periods. I found that I had experienced a major loss of a loved one in each period. God has comforted me through them and placed me in the path of others who have experienced the same things. My loss has helped me to help others who've experienced a miscarriage (and had no one to talk to). My secrets have helped me to stop judging others. God's love has helped me to truly love my story and trust that He is enough even when challenges come.
           There may be major losses in the five periods of my life, but you'd be blind to not see the gorgeous green on my canvas as well. He gave me five children to love and be blessed by (and yes, sometimes overwhelmed by...like my recent trip to "Mom's Night Out"). Stand back and take look at the full picture. It's not perfect, or completed yet, but I think that the Painter is beginning to like the way it looks.

Check out more mom's stories at www.jillsavage.org

Mother's Day Out

           Who would bring their kids to a movie entitled "Mom's Night Out"? Isn't the whole premise about a mom getting away from her children? One mother chose to ignore the logic and brought four children into said movie, only to be interrupted several times to settle disputes over popcorn and notified (via frantic leg kicking) that one six-year-old's blatter was about to burst. Yes, in case you haven't guessed, that crazy mom was me.
           I put out a query the night before on Facebook,  wondering if any area friends wanted to go.  As soon as dear Charles gave me the green light, Half-pint begged to go with me. Mary chimed in, and before long Carrie and Gracie had tear-filled puppy dog eyes. Everyone wanted to go.
           Boundaries are not my strong point. I am an empathizer. I can totally see everyone else's point, even to the point of forgetting my own. I boldly declared to the girls that they could only go IF no one else responded. I was tempted to say that only the older girls could go and leave behind my four and six year old, but I felt like I'd be showing preference.  My hubby is so good at including everyone in what he does that sometimes I feel a little selfish for saying "no". He can be working on the car or planting trees, and he will willingly take five times longer to do something just to include them. I decided to see what www.dove.org said. After all, the movie was rated PG. Dove is really careful to lay everything out in a conservative manner. Many PG "kid's" movies are only recommended for ages 10 and up. I was hoping I could point to them as a justification for leaving Carrie and Grace behind. Nope. They said it was suitable for "all ages". I hate being the bad guy.
         I checked Facebook, and texted a couple of friends.  No one was avaiable. It was Mother's Day. What kind of mom leaves her kids behind when they are the reason for her being celebrated?  After attending the movie, I think the appropriate answer would be "a smart one." The movie was great and my older two really liked it; but despite going to the bathroom before the movie, one hour and forty minutes is too long for a six year old to hold it. Gracie kept talking to me during the film because only some of it was engaging to a four year old's mind. I had to remind her that I couldn't understand the film if she talked to me the whole time. When I told Charles,  he told me that she always talks during movies. Clearly, it's been a while since I've sat down to watch a movie with her...and it may be a while before I do again.
             Despite the distractions, I could really relate to a lot of the movie. I laughed A LOT...from the moment she said she was a "mommy blogger", to when she had a CD issue in her vehicle (been there done that), to when she hid from the kids to eat chocolate in her closet. I laughed at the reference to homeschooling and especially the arrest of the man who killed "mama". What stayed with me the most was when she was talking with Bones about how inadequate she felt. She didn't feel like she was enough. I know how that has felt a lot in my lifetime.  Bones asked her, "Enough for whom?" At the bottom of all her feelings of inadequacy were her own expectations for herself,  not her children's, her husband's or even God's. It made me stop and think about why I don't feel like I'm enough at times. The reality is that it's mainly because of what I'm telling myself or the lies I've chosen to believe.  That message in the film stayed with me beyond those two hours. It stayed with me through this whole week, and I've thought of it many times when I felt overwhelmed.  Bones told the main character that his mama always told him that God loved him just the way he is. I've tried to remember that more this past week, especially when I don't feel like enough. I've also chuckled to myself (clearly much later) over my "moments" I've had since the movie...one of them very shortly after I came home and was confronted with the fact that my house does resemble more of her messed up house than I'd like to admit. Repeat after me: "I am enough."

If you haven't seen the movie, you should...but leave your little ones at home!

Tying Up Loose Ends

           This week marked a milestone for me. I finally completed a project that I've been working on for 10 years. What could be so hard you may ask? Knitting a blanket for my hubby, Charles. In an effort to be a sweet wifey, I had searched high and low for a blanket that would be long enough (hubby is 6'1") and soft enough to love. I failed miserably at that endeavor. When my firstborn was 15 months old and I was prego again, I took up knitting.  I decided to combine my newfound craftiness (craziness) to solve my quest for the elusive blanket.  I had no idea how long it takes to knit a blanket, but I cheerfully threw myself into making a patchwork blanket. The difficulty level was "easy", but do you have any idea how long it takes to knit 4" squares for a 6' x4' blanket? No? Well clearly I don't either because I never finished it. I decided to try a different approach to the blanket, when I learned arm knitting this spring. I went to a social event with Mary at the local Michael's,  and the lightbulb in my head went on while we learned to use our arms for the knitting needles. Lots of thick yarn (which has been staring at me for eternity) plus arm knitting equals sweet blanket in a matter of days, not months. I've been told that you can find lots of videos for learning to "arm knit" on YouTube; but if you want, just come over and I'll show you how. I used four balls of yarn, and knitted four strands at a time (yes, that adds up to 16 skeins of extra bulky yarn...cast on 32 stitches for a blanket width). I presented it to my hubby on his birthday this week, and he told me how nice it was. He didn't even mention my failure to stick to my original pattern...maybe because he enjoys creative problem solving (he has a degree in engineering, you know).
           The week also marks when my last child made it to the 1,000 hours of school mark. Mama is singing "Hallelujah"! No more counting hours! Half-pint's love of Percy Jackson books helped her finish a couple of weeks ago. We made it to the 600 core hour mark by the end of April, so for the last month we have been doing my version of easy homeschooling: finishing up math and grammar. We threw in some chapters from History (that I don't feel HAS to be finished) and "Five Children and It" for fun. We'll continue our reading program through the summer for our youngest two (Gracie decided to start reading this year at the ripe age of three and a half.)  We'll probably throw in some history projects for everyone too (do you know how close we are to some major historic sites...ever heard of Lewis and Clark or the Pony Express??). There are just five lessons of math left for each girl and Half-pint has a few pages left of grammar to finish. This last week looks like it'll be our last, which has the girls cheering for the last day of school. We usually end the school year with a fabulous excursion to somewhere educational. Legoland might be in our near future.
           It's nice to feel like we are wrapping things up and tying some final strings together, but summer brings with it a whole new set of adventures (or burdens,  depending on how you look at weeds). I read a blog this morning about "Why Mother's Day Is Just Really for the Birds" and I loved the reality it layed down about the never-ending imperfect job of mothering. Ann writes that all the tough things in our lives wear down our exterior shell to make us really authentic--like velveteen rabbits or velveteen mothers, in our case. For the past 6 1/2 years, I have daily prayed for God to transform me into who He wants me to be. I do believe the challenges and the struggles I've gone through have been His work into shaping me, and He is not done by a long shot. Philippians 1:6 says, "And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns." I'm resting on that promise. This velveteen mommy will be enjoying this Mother's Day with the five little gifts that making life interesting and exhausting...snuggled up under a new blanket with my partner in this crazy adventure we have undertaken...thankful to the one who has made this life possible and beautiful.

What are you tying up this week?