Murphy's Law for Moms:
The very moment you take a business call, your three year old is done in the sandbox and begins screaming for a snack. She needed a nap, but kept boomeranging out of her room, so you gave up trying, decided to wear her out and put her to bed early. But now she's being completely irrational, and you're on the phone with a perfect stranger. Not wanting to make it sound like you're torturing small animals in the background, you run from the screaming child. She, of course, follows. You flee inside and she chases you in...still screaming. You give her the: "Stop it right now, or I'm going to sell you off to a band of Gypsys!" glare...and she keeps hooping and hollering. She certainly knows this behavior is NOT acceptable, but you can't deal with it on the phone. Before you know it, you've locked yourself in the office closet in order to try and hear the person on the other line. You recompose yourself, attempting to sound like a sane human being, when really, you've just been running for your life away from an angry hobbit. From the closet, the demands for a "snack bar" are now decently muffled, and quiet enough that you can comprehend the person on the phone, and are able to finish your call.
Phew.
Possible hashtags:
#nosnackbarforyou
#timingiseverything
#timetocleanthatcloset
September 10, 2014
September 6, 2014
My Morning Out
There are some stories that I simply couldn't make up, even if I tried. The following is one of them.
Today was my big break. It's been a long past few weeks as Andrew has been tied up with work. Late nights mean Mama does all day, dinner and bedtime routine with the munchkins solo. I'm probably just a big wuss, but after so many "just Mom" days and nightsand middle of the nights with the hobbits, I'm worn out. Today, being a Saturday, meant that Andrew was home. A friend was having a welcome-the-baby shower in town, and I while I had planned to take Emma with me, Andrew offered to keep both girls and let me have some alone time. Oh joy!
I got up earlier than usual, put on makeup, a new dress, and new-to-me shoes. Sans diaper bag, I was absolutely shocked at how light my purse felt with just my phone, wallet, keys and lipstick. I left the house feeling rather pretty, clean, and free.
The shower was held at a trendy coffee shop near downtown. Hipsters were all over the place. I definitely do not classify as anywhere near trendy, so it felt nice to be dressed up. The time with friends was lovely. I got to hold the darling little one. He still had the newborn smell about him, so I drank that in with my coffee. It was a fun time to celebrate the new fella and his Mama.
Once the shower was over, I stopped by the bathroom to pee freshen up. Exiting the building, I felt something brush my left leg. Looking down, I discovered a long string of toilet paper trailing from the bottom of my right shoe. I felt the gaze of a few especiallly-trendy hipsters, and not knowing what else to do, I reached down, grabbed the t.p. from my shoe, walked back into the bathroom and threw it away. I managed not to make eye contact with anyone as I walked to my car.
Checking the clock to see there was still time before needing to return to my nursling, I decided to stop by the Anthropologie store. I LOVE their stuff and have long been wanting to buy one of their beautiful coffee mugs. I hadn't been in a couple of years, so thought some time browsing around alone would be relaxing. I entered nearly beside myself at the idea of taking my time to look at pretty things, assured that the words "NO! DON'T TOUCH THAT!", or, "Put that down!" would not be exiting my mouth.
My joy however was short-lived, as just a few steps into the store, the top left strap of my right shoe gave way. I nearly fumbled, but maintained composure as I realized what had happened. Nevertheless determined to enjoy my precious alone time, I tried to continue walking. To my horror, the rest of the shoe was so loose that I was unable to walk without it coming off entirely. Being the quick thinking, smooth person that I amwhatever, I casually dragged myself to the coffee mug section in the back, and hid behind a display. I was confident that I hadn't made too much of a scene. I tried to look at mugs and choose from all the pretty designs, but after a quick and vain attempt to fix my shoe, I felt utterly defeated. Shuffling around the store just wasn't going to work. To remove the broken wedge shoe would mean hobbling around, nor did I want to go completely hippie and walk barefoot. I wanted a mug dearly, but pictured dragging up to the counter to buy one like some kind of zombie, and simply couldn't bring myself to do it. My fingers brushed the red with paisleys, and yellow with polka dotted mugs, and I turned to make the long, treacherous journey back to the front of the store.
I refused to make eye contact with anyone as I slowly made my way to the front door, pausing behind clothing racks to re-grip the shoe with my toes. I made it up front, and waited on a few ladies to go ahead of me before gimping along behind them. Once I made it out the door, the last affixed shoe strap came loose, too. There was no playing it cool now. I paused, grabbed my completely broken right shoe, and hobbled along the sidewalk. A lady in a Lexus stopped for me to pass in front of her on my way through the parking lot. She saw me holding my broken shoe, and offered a compassionate smile.
Once in my car, I threw my shoe(s) to the passenger floor. And began to laugh. And cry. Hard. My big chance to have some alone time, and look at pretty things all by myself...completely ruined. By a stupid shoe! How often does thing kind of thing happen anyway?!!
I had planned to stop by for a few groceries on my way home, but now that wasn't going to happen either. With free time still on the nursing clock, but no shoes for my feet, I pointed my car toward the freeway. As I laughed and prayed and wept my way back home, I looked around for a tissue to wipe up the mascara running down my face. I had just cleaned the car last week, so the only thing I had to sop up my tears was a dirty baby sock. So pathetic.
Andrew came to my aid when we saw me pulling in our driveway with a sad face. I told him the story, still sitting in the driver's seat, this time laughing and crying all the harder over how silly it was. He is a good and sympathetic listener, and laughed with me. Other than lessons in vanity and pride, I'm searching for what the Lord wants me to learn from this. As if lessons on vanity and pride aren't more than enough. I have much to learn.
And that is my story.
.JPG)
P.S. My tears aremostly dried, so now is a really good time to laugh with me.
P.P.S. I promptly threw those fancy, but broken shoes away and am contemplating donning my crocs for the rest ofmy life the day.
Today was my big break. It's been a long past few weeks as Andrew has been tied up with work. Late nights mean Mama does all day, dinner and bedtime routine with the munchkins solo. I'm probably just a big wuss, but after so many "just Mom" days and nights
I got up earlier than usual, put on makeup, a new dress, and new-to-me shoes. Sans diaper bag, I was absolutely shocked at how light my purse felt with just my phone, wallet, keys and lipstick. I left the house feeling rather pretty, clean, and free.
The shower was held at a trendy coffee shop near downtown. Hipsters were all over the place. I definitely do not classify as anywhere near trendy, so it felt nice to be dressed up. The time with friends was lovely. I got to hold the darling little one. He still had the newborn smell about him, so I drank that in with my coffee. It was a fun time to celebrate the new fella and his Mama.
Once the shower was over, I stopped by the bathroom to
Checking the clock to see there was still time before needing to return to my nursling, I decided to stop by the Anthropologie store. I LOVE their stuff and have long been wanting to buy one of their beautiful coffee mugs. I hadn't been in a couple of years, so thought some time browsing around alone would be relaxing. I entered nearly beside myself at the idea of taking my time to look at pretty things, assured that the words "NO! DON'T TOUCH THAT!", or, "Put that down!" would not be exiting my mouth.
My joy however was short-lived, as just a few steps into the store, the top left strap of my right shoe gave way. I nearly fumbled, but maintained composure as I realized what had happened. Nevertheless determined to enjoy my precious alone time, I tried to continue walking. To my horror, the rest of the shoe was so loose that I was unable to walk without it coming off entirely. Being the quick thinking, smooth person that I am
I refused to make eye contact with anyone as I slowly made my way to the front door, pausing behind clothing racks to re-grip the shoe with my toes. I made it up front, and waited on a few ladies to go ahead of me before gimping along behind them. Once I made it out the door, the last affixed shoe strap came loose, too. There was no playing it cool now. I paused, grabbed my completely broken right shoe, and hobbled along the sidewalk. A lady in a Lexus stopped for me to pass in front of her on my way through the parking lot. She saw me holding my broken shoe, and offered a compassionate smile.
Once in my car, I threw my shoe(s) to the passenger floor. And began to laugh. And cry. Hard. My big chance to have some alone time, and look at pretty things all by myself...completely ruined. By a stupid shoe! How often does thing kind of thing happen anyway?!!
I had planned to stop by for a few groceries on my way home, but now that wasn't going to happen either. With free time still on the nursing clock, but no shoes for my feet, I pointed my car toward the freeway. As I laughed and prayed and wept my way back home, I looked around for a tissue to wipe up the mascara running down my face. I had just cleaned the car last week, so the only thing I had to sop up my tears was a dirty baby sock. So pathetic.
Andrew came to my aid when we saw me pulling in our driveway with a sad face. I told him the story, still sitting in the driver's seat, this time laughing and crying all the harder over how silly it was. He is a good and sympathetic listener, and laughed with me. Other than lessons in vanity and pride, I'm searching for what the Lord wants me to learn from this. As if lessons on vanity and pride aren't more than enough. I have much to learn.
And that is my story.
.JPG)
P.S. My tears are
P.P.S. I promptly threw those fancy, but broken shoes away and am contemplating donning my crocs for the rest of
September 4, 2014
Sitting Still
I've never been very good at sitting still. There have always been things to do, and multi-tasking is in my blood. Just ask my Mom or Grandma. That is if you're able to interrupt their crafting of beautiful quilts, gardening ventures, bargain hunting, or tasty food preparations. They are do-ers, and I've come to terms with being one, too.
As mentioned in my previous post, this summer has been a busy one. We've kept the kids fed, the grass short, and completed quite a few big-ish projects. All of the "doing" was satisfying to my soul. The noticeable transformations have been such a delight to wake up to. I can't help but believe that as we've been made in the image of our Creator, Who makes all things new, that it's natural for us to delight in creating, and restoring things, ourselves.
While the doing-ness of the summer kept my hands happily occupied, my mind was being fed by another, long neglected source of pleasure.
Reading.
It had been too long.
Way too long.
I didn't think I had the time. Motherhood is truly a 24/7 job, far more taxing as well as fulfilling than I ever imagined. Unable to remember the last time I had a full night's sleep, I surely didn't think I had the mental capacity to digest a book. But as I have said before, and continually remind myself: If something really matters to me, then I'll make it happen. Triathletes don't just wake up one morning ready to run, swim and bike themselves to the finish line without previous training. Anything worth having requires some due diligence before one can arrive at their preferred destination. For me, renewing the long lost love of reading would require my sitting still. Not multi-tasking.Augh.
With a bit of discipline and the right books, I'm happy to say that the summer also included my re-introduction to the simple pleasure of reading. I haven't read anything as hefty as War and Peace, but so far a couple of new-to-me authors with thought provoking, and encouraging works have been excellent re-training wheels. I've found myself eager to find moments when I can sit down to snag a few paragraphs, and reveling in the weekends when Andrew has the kids supervised and I can soak in a whole chapter. Or two. I love that man. So dearly.
Acquiring a sandbox to promote non-Mommy related entertainment has helped a great deal. Like a lot. Especially when the alternative digging source was the freshly planted fall garden. The need to dig and roll about in the dirt just wasn't jiving with my even greater desire to have fall produce. So, if you have little people in your life between the ages of 2 and 12, and do not have a sandbox, please, for the love of Pete, go get one, and save yourself some sanity. My "Super Aunts" recommended getting one and it's been the best survival tip I've received in a long time. Hours ofmostly peaceful outdoor entertainment await, and only at the cost of a little Craig's List searching, a few bucks, and hosing your kid off before they return inside your house. Just do it. Anyway...
What's funny is that as I've made time for reading, I've felt a lot more centered. Not new age-y "centered", but more like my old self/new-improved self/I-have-meaningful-thoughts-other-than-what's-for-dinner self. It's given me a glimpse, even in reading "Mom" type books, that other people are living and moving about in their lives, and even when the poop hits the fan (or misses the diaper), that it's gonna be okay. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that finding an outlet of creativity or time to read is especially important for stay-at-home-moms. I dearly love my children, but have found it a healthy thing (at least for me) to get in touch with the outside world apart from diapers, middle of the night feedings, and catching my kid pick her boogery nose and eating her findings. Too much of that turns my brain to mush. Regardless of who you are, if you find yourself needing a break when it may be physically impossible, find a few minutes to give your mind one. Check out the library, or go online to find something that catches your fancy. Reading-time may only consist of the time you take to go to the bathroom, but it's something.
The newest book in my hands is called "Desperate", by Sally Clarkson and Sarah Mae. I bought it on the recommendation of a Facebook friend and am so very glad I did. Frankly, it's been affirming to my Mama heart, and sweetly soul filling. The first chapter was so relate-able that I questioned if they'd been reading my journal. These ladies can empathize with the intensity of life with little people, as well as offer hope, creative ideas, and encouragement to the weary, "desperate" Mama. I didn't think I was tired until I began reading, at which point my eyes misted, and I wanted to jump up and down, pointing at my head, yelling: "That's me! Over here!". Grace, in place of more parenting rules jump off the pages, which in my estimation is something today's Moms are starving for. As with the sandbox tip, if you're a tired Mom, please get this book and make time to read it. Seriously, make it happen, and you'll thank me. I will accept all expressions of gratitude, including offerings of sand bags after my kids have thrown all of ours out, and are down to the bottom of the box.
.JPG)
P.S. Camo Crocs optional for your own fulfilling reading experience.
As mentioned in my previous post, this summer has been a busy one. We've kept the kids fed, the grass short, and completed quite a few big-ish projects. All of the "doing" was satisfying to my soul. The noticeable transformations have been such a delight to wake up to. I can't help but believe that as we've been made in the image of our Creator, Who makes all things new, that it's natural for us to delight in creating, and restoring things, ourselves.
While the doing-ness of the summer kept my hands happily occupied, my mind was being fed by another, long neglected source of pleasure.
Reading.
It had been too long.
Way too long.
I didn't think I had the time. Motherhood is truly a 24/7 job, far more taxing as well as fulfilling than I ever imagined. Unable to remember the last time I had a full night's sleep, I surely didn't think I had the mental capacity to digest a book. But as I have said before, and continually remind myself: If something really matters to me, then I'll make it happen. Triathletes don't just wake up one morning ready to run, swim and bike themselves to the finish line without previous training. Anything worth having requires some due diligence before one can arrive at their preferred destination. For me, renewing the long lost love of reading would require my sitting still. Not multi-tasking.
With a bit of discipline and the right books, I'm happy to say that the summer also included my re-introduction to the simple pleasure of reading. I haven't read anything as hefty as War and Peace, but so far a couple of new-to-me authors with thought provoking, and encouraging works have been excellent re-training wheels. I've found myself eager to find moments when I can sit down to snag a few paragraphs, and reveling in the weekends when Andrew has the kids supervised and I can soak in a whole chapter. Or two. I love that man. So dearly.
Acquiring a sandbox to promote non-Mommy related entertainment has helped a great deal. Like a lot. Especially when the alternative digging source was the freshly planted fall garden. The need to dig and roll about in the dirt just wasn't jiving with my even greater desire to have fall produce. So, if you have little people in your life between the ages of 2 and 12, and do not have a sandbox, please, for the love of Pete, go get one, and save yourself some sanity. My "Super Aunts" recommended getting one and it's been the best survival tip I've received in a long time. Hours of
What's funny is that as I've made time for reading, I've felt a lot more centered. Not new age-y "centered", but more like my old self/new-improved self/I-have-meaningful-thoughts-other-than-what's-for-dinner self. It's given me a glimpse, even in reading "Mom" type books, that other people are living and moving about in their lives, and even when the poop hits the fan (or misses the diaper), that it's gonna be okay. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that finding an outlet of creativity or time to read is especially important for stay-at-home-moms. I dearly love my children, but have found it a healthy thing (at least for me) to get in touch with the outside world apart from diapers, middle of the night feedings, and catching my kid pick her boogery nose and eating her findings. Too much of that turns my brain to mush. Regardless of who you are, if you find yourself needing a break when it may be physically impossible, find a few minutes to give your mind one. Check out the library, or go online to find something that catches your fancy. Reading-time may only consist of the time you take to go to the bathroom, but it's something.
The newest book in my hands is called "Desperate", by Sally Clarkson and Sarah Mae. I bought it on the recommendation of a Facebook friend and am so very glad I did. Frankly, it's been affirming to my Mama heart, and sweetly soul filling. The first chapter was so relate-able that I questioned if they'd been reading my journal. These ladies can empathize with the intensity of life with little people, as well as offer hope, creative ideas, and encouragement to the weary, "desperate" Mama. I didn't think I was tired until I began reading, at which point my eyes misted, and I wanted to jump up and down, pointing at my head, yelling: "That's me! Over here!". Grace, in place of more parenting rules jump off the pages, which in my estimation is something today's Moms are starving for. As with the sandbox tip, if you're a tired Mom, please get this book and make time to read it. Seriously, make it happen, and you'll thank me. I will accept all expressions of gratitude, including offerings of sand bags after my kids have thrown all of ours out, and are down to the bottom of the box.
.JPG)
P.S. Camo Crocs optional for your own fulfilling reading experience.
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