He's a Man Now...

Conversation at our table two days ago:

Me: Eli, don't you want more *something I can't even remember now*?

Eli: No, I don't like it anymore.

Me: Since when?

Eli: Since I became a man.

Me: When did you become a man?

Eli: Two days ago.

He never misses a beat. Love him.

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I'm THAT Mom...

Before Julie, our exchange student, arrived I was quite confident I'd be the cool mom. I mean, the math alone is in my favor. With my own children, I'm 23, 24 and 27 years older than them which likely destines me to uncoolness in their eyes...eventually. But with Julie, being that she's not really mine, I get to be 14 years older, making the generation gap just small enough to keep me cool, right?

Wrong. Turns out, the age difference doesn't matter, when you're a mom, you're a mom. And to add to it...when you're me, you're me. :)

It doesn't matter that she is technically not mine.

It doesn't matter that she is smart, and seventeen years old.

It doesn't matter that she is brave enough to leave her family and country to live with strangers...

I still...

• ask a million questions.
• ask around to find out the reputations of her new friends.
• feel the need to protect her from making any choices she might regret.
• feel the need to dislike and question the intentions of any and all teenage boys, except for the ones where I personally know their mothers, because for some reason that makes a difference.
• ask what happened during the day...with the who, what, when, where, why, and how following.
• tell her not to stay up too late.

One day, I even asked her to change clothes. Yeah...way, way uncool. The benefit to her not being my "real" daughter is that A - she wasn't purposely trying to push the limit and B - she didn't baulk or complain, but simply changed clothes. It may have been harder on me than her, because it sealed the deal: I'm officially THAT mom ;)

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Truth With Dirt On His Face

I find myself wandering around this morning trying to figure out where to start on the "to-do" list that I seem to keep making longer rather than shorter.

What's up with that?

It seems that whenever I get started one of my boys needs something, broke something, needs something cleaned up, or put together...on and on and on. Many times, at the end of the day, I wonder what the heck I even accomplished. This is mostly because I really only accomplish 5 different things....but I did each of those 5 things FIVE ZILLION TIMES.

The refereeing alone...

Sometimes it feels like I'm treading water. Going nowhere, but at least keeping my head afloat. When I stop and really look at my boys, and how much they're growing...physically, emotionally, intellectually and spiritually I realize that life may often feel like I'm treading water, but I'm not. It's always moving forward. I can't slow it or stop it. But I can enjoy it.

This morning after my run (yay for Mondays I LOVE 2 mile short runs) I logged onto facebook and found a link from Michelle, a bloggy-turned-facebook-friend who happens to have the opposite of me. Three girls. I think we should consider arranged marriages. Go visit her and peek at my future daughters-in-law...she has the cutest girls ;)

Want to know what my life is like? Click here. It made me happy cry this morning...because this is my life...times three :)

It's a good (& messy) life!

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Because I'm Rebelious...

First, before I forget, you guys totally pulled through for me yesterday on the egg issue! YAY! I knew you would.

Today I put on my painting clothes because then maybe I'll get around to painting...ya know, since I'm dressed for it and all.

It's the thought that counts.

I spent the morning registering my kids for school. 2nd grader, 1st grader, 2-day preschooler, and Julie who is technically a Senior. My August calendar is full of last minute physicals, eye doctor appointments and volleyball camp. If you need me, I'll be in my minivan. Good thing I love my minivan.

I'm also bucking the public school system for the first time (as a mom.) My first and second grader have a "milk snack" mid afternoon everyday. This is separate from the milk they drink at lunch. It will cost me $70 per kid for the year. I'm guessing, if the school could see the GALLONS AND GALLONS of milk we already go through in our home each week they would whole-heartedly agree with me that it's perfectly ok for me to waive paying the $140 for the mid afternoon milk snack and let my children drink water out of the cute water bottles I promised to buy them :)

I took that additional $140 and added it to their lunch account. I call that genius. Seriously though...why not just water in the afternoon? I think it makes more sense. I'm just saying...

How about you? Anybody else bucking the system on anything? (I'm obviously needing some validation here ;)

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Someone's Messing With Me...

It has been a weird week here in the parsonage.

The weather: Weird. It's finally hot and humid, but it's been storming and then nice and then storming...you get the idea.

My children: Monday-Wednesday I could have sworn that something had taken over their little bodies. Thankfully they've returned to normal yesterday and today.

The mower: Demon-possessed. I'm sure of it. I'll spare you the details.

The coffeemaker: Three years ago I ditched my simple Mr. Coffee because I believed I needed something fancier. I did what any reasonable Pastor's wife does...I donated the old one to the church ;) The new one lasted less than a year and broke. So I bought another fancy model...and today, that machine had enough nerve to not brew ANYTHING. And I just cleaned it with smelly vinegar on Monday...how dare it.

I once again did what any reasonable Pastor's wife does who lives 27 steps from the church...I marched over there and "borrowed" my simple old, trusty coffee pot. Because pastors wife needs coffee. Bad.

And it brewed me coffee.

God bless it.

And soon, I will drive to Wal-Mart (again) and purchase a new coffee pot. But this time...I'm buying the cheapest model I can find. No timers, no bells and whistles...just the $9.99 special...which will probably last forever. Maybe.

Anyways, my point originally was...that it's almost as if someone has been messing with me this week. You ever feel like that? Like I keep waiting for someone to pop out from around the corner and say "Ah ha! We were totally messing with you!" Because THAT seems like the only reasonable explanation :)

I give you pictures that will undoubtedly make you feel A: thankful that your children are incapable of making messes this huge or B: thankful that someone else's house looked like this.

You are welcome.

Because it's rained there are puddles...

Guess why he has chocolate around his mouth...

Yeah...

The mudroom...

My Bible has been laid open to Psalm 65 for the past few days. I can't move past it.

Verse 3 says: Our guilt overwhelms us, but you forgive our sins.

The rest of the chapter is good too...but it seems this week I needed to be reminded of that very thing.

I fail. Profusely. I am less than stellar in every area of my life...which leaves a feeling of guilt behind. On weeks like this, it overwhelms...literally.

God brought me back to the very basics of my faith. I am a sinner, saved by His grace. Forgiven...over and over and over again. And through that verse this week, my load of guilt lightened. He picks me back up, brushes me off and places me back on the path He's planned.

I couldn't be more thankful for that.

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Mama Means Business...

To say that my children are behaving like wild beasts strung out on some substance that makes them seemingly unable to control themselves or the volume at which they speak or make noise would be....

A VAST UNDERSTATEMENT. And a run-on sentence.

I am losing my mind.

I am losing my patience. Not losing actually...it's completely and utterly gone.

I am taking them to the pool today even if it does thunderstorm.

I am going to make them swim and swim and SWIM and if that does not burn off enough energy then I will follow them as they walk jog the 8 miles home.

And then maybe, just maybe, tomorrow when I politely ask them to BE QUIET and STOP KILLING ONE ANOTHER they will stop and think...

I better listen to her. She means business. Remember yesterday when she made us tread water for four hours and then jog 8 miles home?

Who am I kidding. They'll never remember that long.

I love Summer, right?!?

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I'm Done.

It seems to be the phrase I hear myself repeating lately.  I find myself throwing my arms in the air and saying...I'm Done.

As in...

• about 6:00 every night...I'm done.
• a bossy almost four year old...I'm done.
• a six year old that is using words he shouldn't...I'm done.
• little boys that do not listen when I speak...I'm done.
• the routine of school, bedtime, homework...I'm done.
• rain and cloudiness...I'm done.
• a house and vehicle that no matter how hard I try, just do not stay clean...I'm done.
• brothers whining and fighting...I'm done.

I don't actually get to be done.  

I don't even want to be done.  

But I do reach that point...daily...where circumstances push me to the limit of my patience.  Sometimes I just need to step back, put myself in time-out and be done for a few moments.  

My ipod has helped in the I'm Done department.  I can stick that baby on and listen to something positive (instead of my own self pity;)...and it works.  God works through it.

Here's what I love lately:

• Podcasts by Matt Chandler, Pastor of The Village Church.  It's free to subscribe to at itunes.  They make me laugh, cry, and have brought me to my knees in repentance.  Good stuff.
• Latest favorite song...which I didn't really like at first, and now love.  Go figure.   

It's amazing what a little change in perspective does.  

I think it's OK to have those I'm Done moments.    I don't know any mom who has not had those moments...daily.  We're human...whether we admit it or not.  I love those little boys of mine...but it doesn't mean they don't push me to the edge sometimes.  Mommahood is constant.  Whether you work full time or stay at home, you're always a momma.  You're always thinking about them, loving them, disciplining them, providing for them.  You can't shut it off.  

I can't think of anything harder...or better than it.  And I'm praying God's amazing hand of patience and gentleness over this momma as I prepare for a summer full- O- fun.  Because I'm gonna need it.  *wink*

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So Different...

Since I'm on a running kick and all...

Yesterday Noah and Eli had a little cross country race at school. Their PE teacher does an amazing job of lining up sponsors so the kids each get t-shirts, race numbers and medals. It's a hoot.

Noah and Eli each had to run a 1/2 mile.

Noah (my first grader) is pretty competitive. He's all business. My high school cross country and track coach would tell you that he does not get that quality from me.

He finished 3rd in his grade

After I snapped his picture at the finish line he was already evaluating his run...wishing he'd started out harder in order to catch his good friend Deacon, who got first place. All business.

And then there's Eli...notice the form...and tongue hanging out...

The first time I spotted him during his race he was already walking...and talking. :) When I yelled his name his face lit up with his big smile and he started running again.

At the finish line his first concern was where the water and snacks were...that, my high school coach would tell you he definitely got from his mama ;)

So proud of both those little guys, because they both accomplished what they set out to do. I have a feeling it'll be one of those stories I tell over and over (and over) to my grand-kids someday while they stare at me with blank expressions because they've heard the story 1,000 times before...and likely 5 minutes ago as well...because we all know what my memory is like already. I'm just sayin'.

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Emptying My Head...

It's been one of those weeks where there is something going on every day/night.  That pretty much sums up the month of May around here.

I have learned a thing or two this week though:

Monday:  Noah and Eli had a Spring Music Concert for school.  Jake was still not feeling great, but this could not be missed...so like any good mother I hauled him along and spread the germs around some more *sorry to the peeps of tiny town*  Anyways, I had an idea that turned out to be GENIUS.  Can I say that without sounding arrogant?  ;)    I downloaded an episode of Spongebob and Fragel Rock on my ipod and brought along the the headphones...it completely entertained him!  

Do you think it would be inappropriate to take it to church on Sundays in order to keep him quiet?  I'm kidding...KIDDING...sort of ;)

Last night was our final night of Kids Bible Club for the school year.  It was really a fantastic year...and it will be a fantastic break this summer too :)  It was supposed to start at 7 Pm.  I had about 10 kids here by 6:15 PM...they were a little bit excited.  We cooked up 100 hot dogs for the occasion...they ate them ALL.  Yeah.  There were somewhere between 40-50 kiddos...no one could get a good head count because they were constantly moving.  It was overwhelming (in a good way) to listen to them sing in worship to God.  This is our third year of Bible Club, never did I imagine it would become what it is, and I look forward to what God has planned for it in the future.  He reveals the details to me  on a need to know basis :)

Friday night is a mother/daughter thing at a cute little tea room.  It involves dessert...and coffee.   Need I say more.

Saturday is a 4 mile race...remember this?  It's a fun one.  Never mind that I haven't run yet this week because of sickness...oh well.  Gonna try to get a run in tonight after a community meeting where they value my opinion.  Ha.  

Did I mention I ran SIX miles last Saturday WITHOUT WALKING.  I know.  I KNOW!  That's the longest I've ever run at one time...and it felt good...and bad...like that song Hurts So Good :)

Billie and I were beyond excited with ourselves.  The idea of running 7 more miles on top of that for a 1/2 mary sounds nearly impossible, but we've got all summer yet to train...we'll get there...or die trying.  

And that there is enough blabbing for one post...until tomorrow my friends...

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My Three Year Old Self...

Jake's been running a fever since Saturday night.  In the wee hours of Saturday morning I began preparing myself for a no-church Sunday.

I don't like those very much.

I don't like being cooped up with a sick child, who tends to be extra demanding and even more difficult to reason with.  Oh, I love him to death.  And I would sit with him day in and day out if need be...you'd also likely find me cowering in a corner somewhere, rocking back and forth while sucking my thumb.  I'm just saying...

Anyways,  the kid looked miserable.  We're talking fever, flushed cheeks, dark circles, limp body...the whole nine yards.  None of this mattered to him.  All he knew was that he wanted more than anything to go to Sunday School.    He was insistent.  He stood in the mud room in his jammies and shoes pleading relentlessly for me to just let him go.

It's days like this that living in the parsonage right next to the church is NOT  exactly helpful.  He could hear everyone coming.  He could see the kids playing outside.  He stood at the window with tears streaming down his face...breakin' his mama's heart.

It blesses me to know he loves Sunday School so much.  I love that he wanted so desperately to be there.  I also knew all the valid reasons why he would need to sit this Sunday out.  Not only was he completely not up to it physically, he'd likely infect all the other little ones with his sickness.  And we all know what that cycle looks like in a little church.

As I watched him, in all his 3 year old stubbornness, I smiled because I knew his intentions were good.  Where and what Jake wanted was not the issue.  It was his condition that needed to change before he could go.  

I saw myself in him.  I saw myself standing in my mud room,  before my Heavenly Father, pleading my case on whatever it was (at the time) that I was convinced I was ready for.  Completely oblivious to my own physical, spiritual and emotional condition.   It was not pretty.

Just as I told Jake no, not this Sunday.  My Heavenly Father is saying, no...not yet.  He doesn't mean no, never...just not yet.  

And like my three year old, I eventually see that my will, no matter how big it is, is no match for the parent. 

Time to stop pleading and convincing God of something that He already knows I'm just not ready for.  Instead, I want to allow Him to show me what needs to change, what needs to be healed first, before He can allow me to move forward.  

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Total Mom Post

I'm gonna warn ya right from the start....this is a total mom post.

Here's the deal.  Noah has a May birthday and Jake has a early June birthday.  

Every other word that proceeds from their mouths while either watching TV or meandering the aisles of Wal Mart seems to be "I WANT this for my birthday"

Rewind back to January.  Remember my organizing kick?  Yeah...well, it seems that no matter how many truckloads of stuff I haul outta here, they are quickly replaced by more truck loads of stuff.  It's like a law of physics or something...which I wouldn't really know anything about because I'm terrible at anything remotely related to science.

I need your help.  I need to pick your brains.  This morning I read this post at one of my favorite blogs.    She lists some gift ideas that are outside the box.  Movie tickets, gardening kits etc.  

What are some birthday gift ideas that I can give to family members that are not going to cause a truckload of stuff to come back into our home/teeny tiny garage?  

Or are there any toys that are WORTH the space?  

Last tid bit of info:  Noah will be 8 years old and Jake will be 4.  

Alright all you creative people out there, let me have it :)

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It's What We Do Around Here...

I've been doing my best to not whine to ya'll too much about how tired I am of the weather here.


But I am lamenting. If that even makes sense...which it probably doesn't, but I don't care...I like the sound of it :)


Two things I want the MOST:

1. To be able to run outside 3 days a week without freezing my butt off.


2. A little tan...to get rid of this pasty whiteness...and some green grass and flowers would be nice too.

Yes, I am aware that's more than two things...stop counting.

There are some fun things going on over here in the parsonage though.

Exhibit A:

Exercising...not by me. I figured if it kept them entertained, why not.

I know what you're all thinking...Who's the girl?!? Meet Charleigh (which I happen to think is the cutest name ever) Charleigh is joining us during the days for a little while, and let me tell you she is the cutest little thing, we're all a little smitten with her around here. Imagine that.

Especially after Jake plasters her with band aids.

I'll never understand the lure band aids have over my children.

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Mommahood

I'm answering some more questions today, which means that for the life of me, I can't come up with anything else to blog about.

Yay for questions!

Colored With Memories asked this...this may be too personal...but i always wonder about people that have 3 kids of the same gender...did you try for the third to see if you could have a girl, or did you just always want 3?

we have 2 girls...and are debating on having a third...of course we'd love a boy, but the debate isn't so much about that...as it is if i could actually handle 3 (of any gender!)...

which leads me to another question...which transition was hardest for you kid wise (and why)...going from 0 to 1, 1 to 2 or 2to 3...can you tell we are over thinking a third!?!

I always wanted four kids.  And then Jake came along and rocked my little world.   The transition from 2 -3 was hardest for me...mostly because I only had two arms, which meant that  one child was always breaking free running to and fro.  

I then decided three was plenty :)  Now as he gets older though, I start to think maybe four wouldn't be so bad...and then he starts on a tangent of destruction and I think...three is plenty ;)   Who knows what the future may hold.  

When I was pregnant with Jake (our third boy) I was very annoyed when people asked me if I was hoping it was a girl.  I wanted whatever God had ordained that baby to be.  After he was born, I had comments that were almost apologetic in tone, regarding having "another" boy.  Insinuating that I might be disappointed in that beautiful, perfect little boy I held...it made me want to scream.  I fully believe God has given me what He had planned for me.  I am the mother of boys.  I can't imagine anything else.   I wouldn't want it any other way.

I do, however, want some really fantastic daughter-in-laws someday :)

Thanks for the great question!

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Yiddle Man

Dear Jake,





You crack me up. I wish I could bottle up who you are today and save it for later. The way you say "yiddle" instead of little. Your odd breakfast choices...uncooked oatmeal, for example. You are one of a kind little man.





Someday I will miss the way we battle over the letter and dinosaur magnets all over the fridge. Those dimples that show themselves when you smile, which you know I cannot resist. The way you smile and wipe off every kiss I give you. And whenever I say, I love you Jakob you smile and reply I love daddy or I love Odie...just to be a stinker. Your inability to cope with anything when you are tired, just like your mama.





I tease you that you will always be my baby, to which you reply I AM NOT A BABY! You are getting bigger...but you and your brothers will always be my babies. I want to watch you grow and mature into a godly man, but inside, I will always cherish these moments when you are all mine. These moments when my biggest worry is the fact that you've spread shaving cream all over your bedroom...or cut something into pieces...again.



Can you stay 3 years and 8 months just a little while longer?


Love,





Mom





Lord, help me to cherish these moments...and begin instilling in me the courage I need to face puberty with three boys.





Amen.

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Guilty

A little story.

There once was a young lad in Kindergarten. And while at kindergarten, in his class of twenty some six year olds, he made a small can that held grass magic seed he'd planted and watered and watched grow.

His mom forgot to take a picture of it.

Which is sad...because the little magic seed container never stood a chance after being brought to the Kindergartner's home...where the three year old little brother resides.

The evidence of destruction:

The dumping

The feeble attempt at cleaning up the evidence

All that remains

The culprit...and the punishment

Guilty.

There's a given fact around our home...curiosity kills anything the three year old touches.

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Poor Poor Pitiful Me...

Everything in life...anything of worth, requires maintenance.

Everyone knows this...it's not some new deep thought.

I've known this for a long time...logically speaking.  But every fiber of my being wills it to not be true.  I want to work at something ONE time, maybe two and then I want it to just work perfectly...forever.

I think I'm not alone.  

I know that's not how it works...but it doesn't change the fact that sometime...many times I act as though it should work that way.  And when it doesn't, I play victim and give up, because it MUST not be fair...it shouldn't be SO HARD, right?!?

Yes it should.  Yes it is.  Time to get over it.

That's what I heard as I poured out my heart out to God this morning before finally dragging my lazy body out of bed.  I whined and complained to Him about how tired I was...about how cold it was, about how evil my treadmill was....on and on. 

It was my own answers to my complaints that hit me.    It was my thoughts on how things should feel...

• I should be able to go to bed at a reasonable hour, and be able to pop up in the morning, cheery and ready to start my day.
• Ditto for the kids.
• When I get out of bed, I should step into a house that is clean...because after all, I spent TWO weeks getting it organized...it should STAY THAT WAY without me having to attend to it all the time.
• My kids should get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, brush their teeth and THEN watch cartoons until school starts...because that's the routine, they know it, they just should do it.
• I will of course have gotten up by 6 AM (cheery) and spent the time alone with God that I so desperately need.  I'd also have time to make a menu/grocery list so that I could hit the store after dropping the kids off to school.
• I would then hit the treadmill, shower and actually have myself ready by...say...11.
• Then, I could work on ministry stuff...all the while my house would stay clean because no one would be undoing whatever it was that I had done.
• Supper would be planned and prepared, because I of course, had a menu and all the ingredients needed to make it.
• Then, and this is the kicker, we would all sit down and NOT ONE CHILD would complain and refuse to eat.

Sound lofty?  Some of it is, some of it is completely unrealistic.  According to the amount of work I think I should have to put in, in order to achieve this makes it IMPOSSIBLE!

Have you ever looked at women who seem to be able to pull this off and think,  how in the world does she do it?  I'm ashamed to say, that most often, I assume that it's easy for her.  That there must be something in her life that makes it extra easy for her to pull that off.  That I, on the other hand, have it so much harder...that MUST be why I can't do it.

Wrong.  So wrong.  Truthfully, that crazy list is not really that lofty (except for the kids actually getting themselves ready:).  But it requires work, and diligence.  It requires doing what needs to be done even when I don't feel like it.  It requires no excuses.

I don't have to work any harder than anybody else to accomplish things.  Time to stop giving myself excuses.  Time to do things I don't feel like doing.  Which for me right now, means folding an enormous basked of whites...my least favorite ;)

If you relate at all to this, I'd love to hear your thoughts :)

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At It's Finest...

Yesterday after school, Eli, my sensitive little kindergartner smacked his brother in the face because he'd asked his big brother to stop talking to him and Noah did not comply.

I called them both downstairs to the kitchen, explained why this was wrong and sent Eli up to his bed to cool down/time out. After about 5 minutes I called up the stairs and told Eli he could come down (did I mention I'm totally cool, calm, and collected, thinking to myself...this is how good parenting looks...and may have even patted myself on the back.)

He's big into earning money right now, and I'm big into letting him know he's not going to get paid for everything he does. He comes down to inform me that while in time-out on his bed he went to the effort of making it...so I need to pay him. I let him know that while I think it's great he made his bed, I am not paying him for that (and proceed to explain all the reasons why, which I'm sure you can guess already.)

He responds with some over dramatic sobs and heads back up to bed. A few minutes later he comes back down to the table, pulls out his craft stuff, and hurriedly writes something on paper, which he proceeds to cut out.

I'm pretty sure he's making me a card...he's my boy that's always making sweet stuff for me. When he's done he quickly shoves it in my hand and runs upstairs.

This is what he handed me:

translation: worst mom ever

I read it and looked up to the top of the stairs where he was standing, he's sobbing because he already feels bad for giving it to me...because that's Eli. I put on my saddest face and let him know how much he'd hurt my feelings and back to his bed he went...sobbing.

Crack. Me. Up! I probably should have actually been a little hurt by the note, but instead I was GIDDY! He wrote that all on his own which makes me completely proud of him, even if it does say I'm the worst mom ever! ;) Plus, there have been many MANY moments that I have not handled parenting situations in the wisest manner, and if he'd given me the note when I'd deserved it, it may have crushed me. But this time...I'd actually done it right.

I let him sweat it out a few minutes before I went back upstairs to let him apologize and give my clever little guy a hug :)

This is the note I got next:

Translation: Sorry

*Side note: I knew right away I was gonna blog that note. I thought I'd put it up for safe keeping, until I went to look for it and Eli informed me he'd found it and crumpled it up and threw it away...I of course dug through the garbage to find it. *

Mommahood is fantastic. Remind me of that later...it's a snow day here A-G-A-I-N. :)

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Bad Mom Award Goes To...

I sent my "middlest" child off to school this morning...in tears.

I somehow forgot, in the midst of him ignoring my instructions all morning, how sensitive he is.

Mornings around here are sporadic. One morning, everything goes smooth as can be, and the next: chaos.

This morning would fall under the latter. The problem has a simple fix: Just listen and do what mama says. Simple right? Don't I wish.

Here's how it goes around here.

I say: Boys' go upstairs and brush your teeth.

They: head up the stairs and have to pass their bedroom to get to the bathroom...guess where they end up?

I say: Get your coat and shoes on.

They: Get up, but end up in a room in the house that does NOT contain their coat or shoes. When they finally make it to the mudroom, and are half-way dressed, they decide that they cannot possibly wear the shirt they have on...they must take off their coat and shoes, run upstairs, fling clothes all over until they find the right t-shirt and THEN come get their stuff on.

As I rushed to help get Eli's coat on I began my lecture.

"This is why I told you to get your stuff on 10 minutes ago, I tell you this for a reason, you need to listen and obey and not run off blah blah blah blah blah"

And then his tears came. I immediately wanted to take back my dumb lecture. It wasn't necessary, I had already been getting after them all morning...he got the point. Yet in my anger and frustration I couldn't let it go...

I hugged him and hugged him trying to reassure him that it was ok, no need to cry...but once those tears start for him they're pretty hard to stop.

And then I sent him out the door...feeling like the worst mother. Ever.

After he left I pleaded with the Lord to make it all better in his sensitive little heart and at that moment God revealed to me that the chaos of our morning was not just my boys fault for not listening...it was more mine, for not listening to my Heavenly Father. If I had...that lecture never would have began, I wouldn't have had to send my sweet boy off in tears.

Mommahood is tough. My idiotness sometimes makes it a lot more tough ;)

Starting fresh again today. It's 8:56 AM.

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Good Grief

I give up.

As a mom...there are just some battles I am not willing to fight...because I am tired. Very tired.

Awhile ago the boys came home with their school pictures. Generally, I order the smallest package possible...but for reasons I cannot explain, this year I decided to order a good size package for each of them.

When they came home with the pictures, and I looked at them, I thought to myself, "Sarah: You are an idiot" (and by idiot, I mean experienced a slight lapse in judgement ;)

I put them aside for retakes. When retake day began to near I thought I should warn the boys that they would be re-doing their school pictures. I wish I would have taped their reaction. It was pathetic. It involved writhing around on the floor and gnashing of teeth...by both of them. Ridiculous. In the heat of it, I made a rash comment (shocking, I know) I said, "Fine, I'll just hand these out to everyone we know, is THAT what you want?!?"

Again...I am an idiot.

Immediately they stood up, smiled at me and said, "Yep!"

I surrender. If I made them do the re-takes, they'd have probably been worse. So, at Thanksgiving time, I will be passing out these:

Noah - First Grade

Eli in Kindergarten...sticking his tongue through his new gap in his teeth. Good times :)

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Six Years Ago...

Six years ago today I looked like this...

And then, at 11:39 PM just 30 minutes after arriving at the hospital, I had this:You caught me off guard that night my little Eli...who knew you'd plan on making such a fast entrance into this world?!? No induction, no epidural, no monitors, no IV...just a nurse, holding your head in while the Dr. hurried in from another floor.

When it was all over, your daddy and I sat there in the quietness of our hospital room, staring at you...trying to wrap our brains around all that had transpired in just a few short hours.

From the very moment I found out I was carrying you, God used you to strengthen my faith and dependence on Him. My prayer for you my sweet boy, is that you grow up loving Him with all your heart. That your faith would be strong and your dependence on Him...even stronger.

I love you my big six year old boy!

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