Mickey Mouse saved my "quiet" time!

Image via Wikipedia

You know you did it, too.

Before you had kids, you heard some screaming banshee in the grocery store and you thought, “If that were my child . . . ”

And if you’re anything like me, you probably had a mental list of “I’ll nevers” that looked something like this:

• “I’ll never yell at my children.”
• “I’ll never bribe my children.”
• “I’ll never use the TV as a babysitter.”

And then you had kids. And the view from the playing field sure is different than the view from the bleachers.

And you learn quick that as a mom, sometimes you “do what you gotta do.”

But even with that motto, these days I find myself in a bit of a predicament.

I can’t make my life work.

I am totally undone. I have three children, two of which I’m supposed to potty train this summer, a “new” house with a mile long list of things to do, an “old” house to sell, this whole writing “thing” and, oh yeah, I need to lose forty more pounds.

Shoot me now.

In light of all this, it might surprise you to know that in the past couple of months, I’ve been experiencing my own personal revival.

And I have Mickey Mouse to thank for it.

That’s right.

One morning, in total desperation, I plopped James down in the recliner with a muffin and a cup of milk, turned on Mickey Mouse, grabbed my Bible and found my way to the ugliest chair you have ever seen (trust me, up close it's disgusting), left behind by the previous owners and strategically located on my deck.

I didn’t know what would happen, but that dear little mouse bought me a few moments to attempt to have some time with the Lord.

And this time, instead of approaching God with a to-do list or a plan, I just came. And let me tell you, it’s amazing what He can do with my chaos.

Some mornings, my “quiet” time never gets off the ground. James follows me and wants to play. Drew wakes up and wants to eat. Emma comes out and wants to snuggle.

But some mornings, there are no interruptions and as I come to Him, weary, burdened and sleep-deprived, as I spend time in the Word and learn of Him, as I give Him each day and ask Him to show me what to do and what can wait, He is faithful. His yoke is easy. His burden is light. And I am finding rest for my soul.

Don’t get me wrong . . . I’m not out there with Greek dictionaries and concordances as I fact-check my way through a Beth Moore study.

Right now, I’m just reading through Psalms. Nothing elaborate about it. But as I show up, I’m finding that He’s already there, waiting for me. And that ugly chair is turning into my own little patch of holy ground.

I don’t know how your life is going this summer, but can I encourage you in this? Don’t buy into the concept that during this “season of life” you get a pass on spending time with your Savior. It’s during this “season of life” that you and I need Him more desperately than we ever have before.

Don’t wait until you’ve got it all together. And don’t make it harder than it needs to be. Let the kids watch some TV, grab a cup of coffee, find a corner and show up.

Whether it’s 30 seconds or 30 minutes, He will meet you there.

In fact, He’s already waiting.

Deflated

Some days, the “joys” of motherhood just about kill me.

I play with Mr. Potato head. I work puzzles. I read books. I do laundry. I fix breakfast, lunch, supper and eighteen snacks.

I build towers out of blocks. I find missing dolls. I kiss booboos, pay bills and change twenty-three diapers, ten of them requiring full Hazmat gear.

I fall into bed and tell my husband that I feel like someone took a baseball bat and beat me with it.

But those days are easy enough to get over. After a good night’s rest, I’m ready for the new day.

Then there are the days when time after time, something happens that knocks the breath out of me. The days when everything goes wrong—the kids fight, the laundry annoys me, the recipe I try is a flop, the clutter threatens to overwhelm me—and I’m faced with the certainty that I get to do this all over again.

Tomorrow.

And the next day. And the day after that.

Yippee.

I fall into bed without a word. I feel overwhelmed. Defeated. And a good night’s rest can’t fix that.

But I’m not defeated.

I’m deflated.

And it’s an important distinction.

Defeated implies a state of permanent failure—my balloon popped and is scattered all over the floor in jagged pieces.

Deflated implies that there’s hope—my balloon hasn’t popped—it just needs some air, or better yet, some helium.

Motherhood has a way of sucking the life out of you. You can only give so much before you have nothing left. The key, for me, is to realize when I’m almost to the edge—before I get to it—and take some time to recharge, to fill my tanks, to re-inflate my balloon.

I have two ways of doing that. The first is the most important. I spend some time with the Lord. No one is as refreshing as He. The second way is to get out of the house for a few hours.

Alone.

I need time alone to regroup and re-energize. That’s what works for me, but some people need to get out with a few friends or work on a project or throw a party. It doesn’t matter what you need, as long as you know what it is and you make the time to get it.

It’s not about being selfish.

It’s about survival and sanity!

I’m a much better mom when I’ve had some time to myself. I come home ready to tackle the Little People explosion in my daughter’s room, prepared to sing every verse of Father Abraham and able to laugh when I’m changing the twenty-fourth diaper of the day.

Don’t let motherhood get you down. Figure out what your helium is—time with a good book, time in your garden, time at the gym—and re-inflate as often as you can.

Psalm 23:1-3a ~ The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. (ESV)

Summertime

Summer vacation.

If I were one of those moms who seem to thrive in the midst of chaos—who laugh (without crying) when small hand prints appear on freshly cleaned windows—who think the higher the decibel level in the house the better—then I would be thrilled.

News Flash.

I am not one of those moms.

Sorry.

I love those moms. Except for when I read their Facebook statuses—giddy and exultant over the thought of the months ahead—and feel like the worst mom alive.

Because I have to be honest—I’ve been dreading this.

I love kids. I even love having a houseful of kids and I enjoy watching them wreak havoc.

Once in a while. For a few hours, maybe a few days—max.

But when life returns to normal, I don’t think a day where everything goes off in an unplanned direction is a good day. I don’t think it’s funny when my kids spread dirt all over freshly swept floors. I have considered wearing earplugs just to take the edge off.

Sometimes I wonder if my kids would have been better off with a different mom. Someone a little less uptight. Someone a lot more fun.

But I know that isn’t true. No one on earth is capable of loving them the way I do. No one on earth is capable of knowing them the way I do. And no one else on earth has been called to be their mom.

As weird as I am, for better or worse, God put us together. We were destined before the world began to be a family. My strengths and weaknesses will be played out before them and will shape who they become.

At the same time, I firmly believe the truth of this quote from She’s Gonna Blow - "God didn't give you your children so you could fix them or whip them into shape. He gave you your children so He could make you more like Him."

I will be forever changed as I strive to be the best mom I can be to the three souls entrusted to my care.

So with that perspective firmly in mind, summer vacation—here we come!

My prayer for this summer is that we laugh a lot, learn a lot and grow a lot. (Well, the kids anyway—personally, I’m hoping to shrink a lot).

But mostly, that we love—a lot.

I Corinthians 13:4-8a—Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. (ESV - emphasis mine)

Special Olympics

I have to admit that until Emma's teacher told me we would be going to the Special Olympics this year, the idea of Emma ever participating in the event had never crossed my mind. For one thing, she doesn't love crowds. She loves crowds of strangers even less. Not to mention that she's not particularly athletic and is more likely to refuse to participate than not.

But Emma continually surprises me. And yesterday was a surprisingly good day.

Instead of totally withdrawing, Emma participated and truly seemed to have a good time.

The Parade of Athletes was emotional for me. I teared up several times as the athletes marched in, the fans cheered, the law enforcement team ran the flame into the stadium and then several athletes made a final lap with the flame before lighting the torch in the center of the stadium. There was the Special Olympics pledge "Let me win, but if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt" and the National Anthem sung by a sweet thing who did it better than I've heard at any professional ball game in a long time, and the games were declared open.

Emma's first event was the 50m dash. They had handed out small plastic bags for the kids to haul all their loot in and Emma categorically refused to let anyone hold the bag for her. So she ran her race with the bag in her hand. And she ran the whole thing.

OK. Toward the end it was more of a meander than a run, but she crossed the finish line. Then she wanted to run it again so she raced her Aunt Jennifer part of the way!

Next came the softball throw. And here's where we dropped the ball. The opening ceremonies had taken far longer than scheduled so everything was running behind. Emma's first event had started 45 minutes late. But her 2nd event did not. And we missed it. I had gone to the van to feed Drew, and everyone else was headed that way but didn't arrive in time. So, we know she threw the ball far and won 3rd place. She was very happy with her medal!

After that, we had some lunch and were planning to head out, but her teachers asked if she could participate in the 4x100 relay event. Another child who had been scheduled to participate had to leave early, and they needed one more runner. We had no idea if Emma would run, would hold the baton, would hand the baton over, etc., but we said "Sure".

We are so glad we stayed.

First off, our competition never showed, so the organizers decided to let us run against four middle school teams, but award the elementary division separately. So, imagine Emma lined up on her arrow in row 1 and four middle school aged boys lined up in rows 2-5. She looked like such a tiny peanut.

Then, when the gun went off, she took off. Except she was the 2nd runner. Brian had to catch her and bring her back so she'd be in position for the baton.

When Miranda rounded the corner, Emma took the baton and took off. Brian was holding her hand some to encourage her to run and to stay somewhat on course, but Emma did things her own way. At some point, she decided to see how the baton worked as a spy glass. She slowed down and held the baton to her eye. We were yelling "Run, Emma" and laughing all at the same time. And so was everyone else.

You have to experience it, but it was such a "safe" place. There was no mean-spiritedness. People laughed because it was funny, because the kids were just having fun and being themselves and because these kids know that the point is to play well, not to win.

So Emma makes it to her handoff and hands the baton off. Caleb takes it but is ready to hand it off to his dad, but his dad gives it back and away he goes.

When he gets to Colby, our anchor runner, things really got interesting.

First, Colby took off without the baton. His buddy grabbed him and got him back to his mom who was holding the baton. He tried again. (Keep in mind, there is an announcer talking through a loudspeaker the whole time, encouraging the kids - the middle schoolers had finished before Emma did). This time, he doesn't just run. He sort of runs/skips and waves his arms in circles as he heads for the finish line. Everyone was laughing, yelling "Go Colby", clapping and  laughing some more. The announcer comes back on and says "Let me win, but if I cannot win, let me be joyful in the attempt!" as Colby approaches the finish line.

It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

Everyone met back at the finish line, laughing so hard our cheeks hurt! The kids were awarded their gold medals we took pictures of our athletes before heading for home.

We had such an amazing day. I was impressed by the camaraderie and friendliness of everyone there and by the respectful attitudes of the high school students who had volunteered as buddies for the day.

Emma and her teacher, Mrs. Irick, walking in the Parade of Athletes

Emma running in the 50 m dash

Emma's bronze medal

Emma waiting on her arrow for the relay race

The Gold Medalist!









Baby Drew is Here

He arrived 6 weeks ago.

I'm behind.

I've been busy!

Andrew Phipps Blackburn arrived on February 24th. He's fabulous. We are all completely smitten. He has a tiny bit of hair and his eyes are blue at the moment, but our pediatrician tells me that can still change. So far, his only health issue is that he has reflux, which means I'm getting to reuse all those burp cloths I had with James . . . and Emma . . . hmmm . . . there might be a pattern here!

Drew seems to be able to just roll with the punches. He's been such a trooper. He hasn't had the luxury of a nice "routine" but he's still eating and sleeping well.

Emma and James are doing a great job as big sister and big brother. They like to "hold" him and if he starts to cry, they run for the pacifiers or come get me with the words "Baby Drew Crying". It is clear they expect me to remedy this situation immediately!

Snaggletooth

Emma's top teeth had been loose for a LONG time. They were barely hanging on and over the course of a few days, Brian was able to pull both of them without upsetting Emma. She loves to show us her smile now! She won't have much of a space for long. Both teeth were already coming in by the time the baby teeth came out!

Teeth minus one!

Teeth minus two!

Field Trip to the Pumpkin Patch

I have a confession.

I don't really enjoy field trips. I go on them, but I don't look forward to them.

Because Emma doesn't seem to enjoy them, either.

She's a girl who likes her routine. She's also not particularly fond of crowds. So field trips with 3 other kindergarten classes are usually rather overwhelming.

But I think this one may have been the best yet. The weather was great. The schedule had enough free time that we weren't rushed, but not so much free time that we were bored. We've been here before and Emma is mostly interested in the tractor ride. But this year they had a small petting zoo and Emma enjoyed checking out the animals. She had a nice chat with the pig...she knelt down, looked it in the eye and said "Hi, Pig!" Then she waited. I think she was expecting an answer!



Carrying the pumpkin out of the patch.



Hi Pig!

Scary September

After the birthday party, I have very few pictures for the rest of the month of September. The month took a turn when I had some complications two weekends in a row and pretty much was told to spend most of my time in bed or on the couch.

Emma - reading Clifford, watching Baby Einstein, sitting in a box. :-)

James -  who went through a "who needs pants" phase!

Thankfully, since the scares of September, I've had no further complications and as I write these words the baby is kicking away to remind me to get caught up on the blog because he intends to have a significant presence on here in about four weeks!

James Starts Preschool

"Just one day a week . . . it's just one day."

This was my chant as I took James to his first day of Mom's Morning Out.

He needs it. I need it.

That doesn't mean I have to like it.

Thankfully, he loves it!

James Turns 2

Yes, if you note the date you'll see the awful truth...I'm 6 months behind.

What can I say?

It's been a busy 6 months!

So . . . .

We had a brunch for James' 2nd birthday with family and friends that are family - grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and godcousins (is that even a real word?). Anyway.

Sandra had broken her ankle and was in a wheelchair, but that didn't stop her from mopping my floors and fixing the tenderloin. Mom was on biscuit duty. Somehow it all got done. The weather was fabulous and after you eat a tenderloin breakfast, do you really need to eat the rest of the day?



Anna, Ashlyn, Ethan & James



Not sure if they planned to match or if Clemson was playing!



James loved all his presents and loved all the attention! Emma loved the party hats - she takes her party hats seriously!