THE GOOD OLE DAYS

Our children are at precious ages - 10, 8, 6 and 6.  We're in those "golden years," where we no longer have very young children who need us every minute and we don't yet have difficult teenagers.  I can now drive my kiddos somewhere by myself and enjoy a fair bit of it, and many of our adventures are fun for all of us.



When we had our D-Group Lake Day a while back, I remember soaking in the sweetness of time together as a family, with friends that we love and everyone being *mostly* happy.  It struck me that we are living the "Good Ole Days" with our kids that people always look back on with such fondness.  And I was simultaneously overwhelmed with gratitude and panic: gratitude that we get to live good days at all and panic that they are slipping by too quickly.

When I think about the contradictions that make up our life, and especially my thought life, this certainly ranks up there as humorous.  I love being able to do fun things with our kids - my personality is built for fun, and I regularly expect and look for opportunities to have great experiences at every turn.  I'm always wanting to create "perfect family moments."

I also live in the reality that we have a fair bit of stress, and even when we are having fun as a family, there is usually an undercurrent or a full blown riptide of crazy under the surface.  Our family has an intensity that cannot be denied, and we can only handle so much togetherness before our cracks begin to show.  We often do better with other people so we can be a little diluted.  Too much Spenst is not good for anyone, including us.

The tension of ENJOY EVERY MOMENT and THIS IS SO HARD continually plagues me, and I'm guessing this comes with the territory of motherhood.  Summer has been particularly sanctifying, because we've had so much togetherness and gotten to see the good, the bad and the ugly of everyone's character up close with the added hours in our days.  It has been wonderful to make memories, and I look back on the pictures from this summer already so grateful for the sweet times we have had.

But, I also had a meltdown a few weeks ago as I saw so many more weeks of summer stretching before me with not a lot of plans.  We don't do "days around the house" well at all.  I didn't know how we were going to fill the time, and so much of it going well depended on me, and I wasn't sure I was up for it.  Now that the end of summer is in sight, I'm growing wistful and sad that it's drawing to a close.  It seems that my heart wants to be discontent no matter what is happening or how I feel.

As I learn more about myself and the ways that I process life and emotions (thank you, Enneagram!), I better understand this trap that easily trips me up.  I have to fight for gratitude in the present moment.  I have to fight against the fear that we'll never have good times again that could possibly live up to these.  I have to push away the discontent that even the good times are marred by the ever present stresses in our life.  That is life - there is always good and hard.  I am constantly working to align with the upside down nature of what God has called us to and how we live that out.

So - here's to the Good Ole Days and enjoying them for what they are and not glamorizing or underselling them.  And to knowing that God in his graciousness will be walking with our family in the good times and the hard - no matter what life holds, whenever that is.

ONE ON ONE TIME WITH KIDDOS

My 20 year high school reunion was a couple of weekends ago, which is a whole nother story.  But as it relates to this blog post, I happened to WIN outright for the alumni that had that most children.  At 4 kids.  This was sort of shocking to me, as most of my friends here also have 4 kids.  It made me wonder if we are weird or just used to living in Arkansas or, or, or...  Really, those are lots of questions for other days that we will probably never get to, because in reality we have four children and that does not leave a lot of time for extra questioning of things that are already done deals.

All of that to say, we have four children and sometimes that feels like a lot.  I know a lot of people who have more than that, but for us, four feels like a full and overflowing quiver.  Especially with some of the extra needs that are brought to the table through adoption.  Also, our kids are very close in age - 4 in 4 years.  This has a lot of pros, but I regularly tell people that I have PTSD from when they were all very little.  The level of exhaustion and intensity is unmatched in anything else we've ever done.

As they have gotten older, certain things have leveled out.  We are *slightly* less exhausted.  At least, the exhaustion has shifted.  The physical things are easier - they mostly sleep at night, they mostly dress themselves, etc.  The emotional things have gotten harder, because we are raising four people.  They all come to the table with a different set of giftings, preferences, temperaments and needs.  We are actively trying to balance their needs with our needs and with all that is always going on.  The mental gymnastics are often overwhelming.

One of the things that we've discovered is that our children thrive when they spend one on one time with us.  As an added bonus, we've realized that we often enjoy parenting more when its one on one, instead of us with the whole herd.  We saw this so clearly when we peeled Lily off for her 10th birthday trip, and it inspired us to make it more of a priority.

So, we try for John to be able to take each kid out on their own about once a month, which roughly works out to about one kid "date" a week for him.  We haven't quite managed to figure out the best way for me to get as much one on one time out of the house, but I am working to take those moments we get at home and use them more intentionally.  The honest truth is that especially during the summer, I am more likely to need time away from all kids, simply because we have had a LOT of togetherness, and I need to be able to think whole thoughts on my own.

This is a work in progress and changes with our schedule and the season.  Just the second we feel like something has legs and can walk around, everything seems to change.  But, we are working on it, and it does make a difference for us all.

Often this means that John will plan things that he knows each kid will love, and it has been fun to see them respond to this thoughtfulness.  He's run races with the big girls and has also hiked Pinnacle.  There are regular trips to Yogurt Mountain and Barnes and Noble.  We did realize that the kids were starting to equate "dates" to "getting a toy" or something else, and so we've cut back on buying stuff on the outings to make it more about the time spent together.

I'm hoping that building these relationships intentionally will increase the connection we have with each of our children and also build their confidence.  It allows us to speak truth into them and provide more context for big picture things in life, especially with the older girls.  Another thing that John did was had them take the Strengths Finder for Kids test, and it was amazing to see how well those strengths already define who they are.  We want them to know themselves, just as we are trying to know ourselves.  

I would love to hear other ideas about how people schedule intentional time with their kids - we still have a lot to learn.  It's tricky to figure out how to balance everyone's needs, and we get it wrong probably as often as we get it right.  But, we are trying and praying that God blesses and multiplies our efforts.

DEALING WITH ANGER

I've dealt with more anger in the past year than ever before in my life.  I've mentioned that last year I struggled some with low-level depression, and my biggest tip off was how angry I was - sometimes irrationally so.  John saw a little of this, but mostly, I was mad around our kids.  My patience level with their behavior was low to very low.  I snapped more and yelled a little and got sulky on the inside when everyone was acting a fool, which then meant that we were all acting as fools.

The anger has subsided some as I've leveled out emotionally and addressed it, but it almost feels that the Pandora's box of anger is just open now.  My fuse is shorter, and I lose my cool more quickly, and dangit, I just want everyone to do whatever it is they are supposed to be doing.  Is that too much to ask?!?  Yesterday morning started with two kids in my room 45 minutes before it was time to wake up and went downhill from there.  By God's grace, I stayed calm, but I felt raw and spent from the effort.

As I've thought through when I feel the most angry, I've realized it stems from several places.  There is the obvious, "My children are not doing what I've asked them, and we've been over this, and I expect better behavior/time management/general falling into line than this."  It is infuriating to be calling to a child and for them to be hiding all before 6 a.m., and clearly, this is behavior that needs to be addressed.

I'm also disappointed with how certain things in life are turning out.  There are broken relationships that I wish could be mended.  There are realities in our family that are challenging with no end in sight.  When I continue digging, I have to face the fact that I'm not the parent I thought I would be.  Somehow, when I pictured adulthood and life and kids, I imagined this idyllic everything.  I tend to romanticize the past, present and future, unless its the actual moment that I'm living that I don't like.  My real life children reveal the messiness inside of me in ways that I had never imagined possible.

The imaginary children I had were much better behaved and far less complicated than the actual children I have.  The imaginary parent I was knew what to do almost all the time.  She didn't get flustered and frustrated and concerned and confused.  I've read a lot of parenting books, and because of adoption, I've been through more parenting seminars than the average parent.  I also have a degree in Family and Human Services.  Basically, I am overqualified for this job, and it still demands every bit of me and then a lot more.

Years ago, I remember someone saying that marriage reveals your selfishness and that parenting reveals your anger, and now almost 14 years into marriage and 10 years into parenting, I have experienced both of those things in fullness.  My selfishness is never more clear than when John and I are working through something, and I just want what I want.  And before children, I didn't know this kind of anger existed inside of me.  What a delight to discover!

Why do I share all of this?

I believe there is power in naming a problem to be able to deal with it.  I don't want to be stuck here forever, and I know that some of my anger is justified, but certain behaviors that stem from it are not. I will never be the perfect imaginary parent, but I want to be a better, grace-filled version of the parent that I am for my children, John and myself.

Also - I don't think I'm alone in this.  Parenting is straight up the hardest thing I've ever done.  It is rewarding as well and beyond worth it, but it is inconvenient and challenging at every turn, and it presents new issues in every season and stage.  Just when one thing begins to iron out, something else emerges from the quagmire.  If you are also struggling with anger as a parent - please know that you are not the only one.

Another reason for me to share is that if I have miraculously been cured of my anger in a year🤞🏻, then I will likely forget this ever happened unless I write it down, and it feels important to note this struggle.  I can see how much work God and I both have to do inside my heart, and I want to be able to look back and see progress.  I cannot control my children's behavior or what is going on in their hearts (though I certainly can influence those things), but I can (with the Lord's help and strength) work on my own responses.

Here's to 2019 being a year filled with more grace and patience that comes as a result of being filled with the Spirit and also by doing the hard work to keep calm and carry on.

ANOTHER STEP & THEY JUST KEEP COMING

My babies are five and headed to kindergarten in a few short weeks.  Truthfully, I've given very little brain space to this, and it feels anti-climatic, because they have been in full time school for two years.  Also, I did the IEP meetings for them months ago and now barely remember anything that will be happening.  I'm sure it will all work out. 😬😱

I totally freaked out two years ago when Bella, William and Violet all headed to school the same year.  And two years before that when Lily started kindergarten, I legit cried uncontrollably through the "Boo-Hoo Breakfast."  Even as I looked through those blog posts, the feelings came rushing back and I wondered if there might be more going on underneath my calm facade.  I'm regularly out of touch with what's really going on inside of me until I take a second to calm down.  Usually, I am busy planning the next fun thing or interacting with the person directly in front of me - most often, my children.

A couple of months ago, I read Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng, which was excellent.  One passage of her beautiful prose reached out to grab me, "To a parent, your child wasn't just a person: your child was a place, a kind of Narnia, a vast eternal place where the present you were living and the past you remembered and the future you longed for all existed at once. You could see it every time you looked at her: layered in her face was the baby she'd been and the child she'd become and the adult she would grow up to be, and you saw them all simultaneously, like a 3-D image.  It made your head spin.  It was a place you could take refuge, if you knew how to get in.  And each time you left it, each time your child passed out of your sight, you feared you might never be able to return to that place again."

This idea has lodged itself with me, and I consider it sometimes when I look at my children.  I can see so much when I take the time and space to look.  I see the babies they each were, beautiful in their own ways and unique in the journeys that brought them to me.  With my bio children, I am still shocked that they grew inside of me - that their lives would never have happened without my choices.  With my adopted children, I am still shocked that they grew outside of me, because a world where our lives did not collide feels unimaginable.  I see the long nights and fussy days and first solid foods and wobbly steps.  Babyhood feels like yesterday and forever ago.

I can see the children that stand before me.  The hazel eyes, the blue eyes and the sets of brown eyes that look into mine.  They find me in laughter, in fear, in pain, in irritation, in boredom and in joy.  Our connections feel bound by tiny cords that make up ropes that can pull taut with tension but never break under the weight.  There is a daily tug of war - we are pushing towards the end goal of independence while also knowing these precious years and moments are fleeting and cherished.

Sometimes, every so often, I see glimpses of the future.  It's cloudy and tends toward murky at best, because sometimes, fear comes for me.  The variables outside of my control that take no account of my desires add up as each day passes.  I see greatness in each child and their possible adult selves.  I hope for the very best.  I grieve the future heartache that I will not be able to staunch with a cuddle on the couch.

Each of my children have shining gifts and talents, and I hope and pray that God molds them all to his purposes and equips them to shine in their own ways as he sees fit.  This is the portion of the seeing that feels equally devastating and invigorating - God is writing their stories, not me.  And though I trust him as the author and know the ultimate ending, I understand that there are often hard chapters sprinkled into every book.  Mine is littered with them.

For right now, I want to be here, in this space, with these children that the Lord has somehow put into my charge.  It's beautiful and complex and riddled with potholes, but it's our road together.  As we walk, I want to remind myself to take it in, take one step at a time and always being glad when we are holding hands and in step with one another.

POTTY TRAINING: CHILD 1 VS. CHILD 4

We hit a major milestone a couple of weeks ago.  All of my children are potty trained!  It only took us a million years and two million Pull-Ups to get here.  As we've arrived in this enviable position, it barely even registered with me, which shows just how far I've come as a mother.



There are myriad differences between walking a road with your first child compared with your last.  Even though the span between my oldest and youngest is only 4 years, so much has changed in those 4 years.  Mainly, me.

Here's a little review.  When child number one was potty training, I was a psychopath.  Let's take a little walk down memory lane, shall we?  Since I chronicled every part of the journey 🙈, we've got it easily accessible in memorandum.  When Lily was three, I started seriously trying to potty train her, which I found humbling and difficult and was sure to lace with lots of drama - the post was titled, "Trying to Tame the Bladder of Steel." That didn't work, which I mentioned in this post, and then I took her to ACH to get an ultrasound of said bladder. 🤷🏻‍♀️ The next step I took was taking us both to a child psychologist. 🤦🏻‍♀️ How am I not kidding with this?  I am not.  Not even a little bit.

Y'all.  She did finally get potty trained.  Obviously.  We survived, though not unscathed.  I was much more chill about child number two, though I still made a pretty big deal about it: see family trip to Wal-Mart to pick out a toy, dinner out at a Chinese buffet and a family donut date.  No skimping there.

Fast forward some years to the twins.  They've had some developmental delays, but the truth is, they are both quite bright.  Here is the other truth, I did not care one lick about when or whether they potty trained.  After the major drama of potty-training Lily and realizing that she finally did it when she was ready AND ONLY THEN, I was scarred and gun-shy.  And also lazy.  And there are two of them, always.  Potty-training twins sounded like the worst thing ever, so I basically tried to avoid it completely.

Plus, I'm just worn down, with a lot of other things going on now.  There are 4 kids, instead of 2, and we've got other fish to fry.  So, when Violet showed a lot of interest, it was fine, but I moved very slowly.  She's been fully potty-trained for quite some time now, though it took a long time to get there.  She's also still my most avid toilet tourist and never misses an opportunity to use a public restroom - what a joy! 😒

However, William had zero concern over peeing in a pull-up - and why would he?  It was convenient.  It was comforting.  For both of us.  At the most recent school conference, they asked about whether or not I was considering potty-training (they were very gracious, though we all fully recognized that it should have already been done), and they also volunteered to help.  "Send him in undies!" they said.  "We'll deal with it!" they said.  I felt guilty about letting them do ALL of the work, so I put him in underwear, very much against his will, one Saturday.  It was a disaster that included two accidents, that were not actually accidents since he smiled right through them, while we were at the mall and then at the movie theater.  John put a mostly empty popcorn bin under him to catch the urine streaming down his legs the second time.

But Sunday came, and he realized we were serious.  He's had an almost perfect record since then for both day and night.  I guess he was ready.  😂  He was extremely pleased to be rewarded with SpiderMan Legos for the first full week of getting it done a while back.

Just like that - my four children are potty trained!  I never thought this day would come - especially when potty training child one seemed like the hardest thing I might ever face.  Even though John and I lead by example in this area, it seemed a difficult thing for many of our kids to catch on to.  But the years and diapers flew by.  We are onto bigger, better and honestly harder things.  We all grow together.  I'm not sure the next thing I will be a psychopath about, but I'm sure it's looming.

Til then, I'll be hoping and praying for wisdom and grace to prop us up along the way.  And, I'll try to remember to have a little levity and a long view, because Lord knows, we're all gonna need both.  For now, I'm reveling in the lack of a diaper bag, while always always always keeping wipes in my car because life.

PARENTING: LIFE'S HARDEST JOB EVER.

Back in May, John and I had a Spenst Summit which yielded some helpful long-term changes - especially around the way we do dinner time.  I am pleased to report that while dinner does not happen perfectly every night, we are achieving more dinner success on a more regular basis, so that feels like a win.  It's nice to make changes and see results.  We are still working to make Sundays our day of rest, though with the amount of traveling we did this summer, as well as certain activities that fell on Sundays, this has been more hit or miss than we might have liked.  But, today, John and I slept on the couch for almost 3 hours while we were awoken by our children only a few times. 😴🙌🏻

One of the other things that I have been slowly coming to grips with is that parenting takes an ENORMOUS amount of time and energy.  See, all of my children are now in school, and I really think I believed that I would magically have all this new-found free time.  hahahahahahahahaha.

I do get a lot more quiet time in our home, which I appreciate so much - especially in light of just having a summer with very little quiet.  And, I am able to organize time more efficiently and not go to the grocery store with children and finish laundry (*on a good week), when they are not here.  

HOWEVER.  

Parenting is so intense that I need those full 35 hours a week to recover from the hours that we spend together.  Some of this is the season that we are in, the personality make-up and ages of our kids, some of the unique challenges that we have and the fact that we are all, every last one of us, sinful people trying to live together and serve God and make it in this world.  We all have our own agendas, and *sometimes* they do not line up.

As I become ever so slightly more seasoned as a parent, I realize how little I really know and how very little I control.  I grow in humility - not necessarily as a result of increased spirituality, but instead as a function of humiliating experiences in public with one or more of my children acting like a crazy.  

Case in point: the twins had their four year check up at the doctor's office last week (only five months late and only because they had to have it for school paperwork, otherwise, I never would have realized that we didn't do it 🤦🏻‍♀️)  They needed to take their picture to have on file, and from that moment on, William screamed/yelled/cried about 2/3 of the entire experience.  Violet chimed in whenever she thought he needed help protesting, though on the whole, she was pretty sweet.  But, neither wanted vaccines (who does?), and William managed to tense his legs so much that he bent the needles. 😱 

Everyone in that office gave me sympathetic looks, and I heard "bless your heart" more than once.  By the time we got home, I was done.  D - O - N - E.  I called John, and he graciously agreed to meet the kids and I at our usual Mexican restaurant where the staff knows us by name and take care of us very quickly.  We ate dinner starting at 5, and the kids were in bed by 6:45 p.m., and I still felt like I needed days to recover.  But instead, I started it all again the next day.

I do know enough to know that this will pass - both the bad and the good things of this season are fleeting.  I've had other strong-willed four year olds - though I've never had two at a time, and I can't say I highly recommend that particular experience.  Now the others are strong-willed six and eight year olds, and while we have new challenges, they are often a little easier to reason with.  Until they aren't, or until they kick a hole in the wall. (that happened a couple of weeks ago 😳)

Basically, I've come to understand that during this season, I actually don't have a lot of extra time.  It takes an enormous amount of energy and intentionality to parent well.  And, the stakes are high.  I'm the only mom that Lily, Bella, William and Violet have right now, and I want to do it well.  I'm asking the Lord to help me use the time he's given me in ways that glorify him and serve my family well.  I've continued to cut back on some of the extra things I've been involved in, simply because I only have so much energy.  It will not always feel like this.  But right now, it does.

All of that said, we do have a lot of sweet moments right now, and I'm not looking forward to those passing.  We get a lot of "I love yous" and cuddles and hugs.  Parenting is the hardest job ever, but it is so worth it.

MOTHER'S DAY 2017

Mother's Day always brings all the feels, and I've written at length about many of them.  It is multi-layered, and I am sandwiched in the beautiful place of having my children with me and being able to honor my living mother whom I adore.  Adoption adds another layer where I think regularly of W & V's birth mother, and the ways that I share this day with her.  And, you can't stop onto social media for a hot second without realizing how loaded Mother's Day can be.  I also don't really love how my husband and kids are supposed to be "extra nice" to me on just this one day.  Why aren't they extra nice to me all the time? 😜 Don't they realize how hard I work for them? 🤣 Honestly, John is really one of the most gracious, sacrificial people ever, and my children are by and large extremely affectionate (though not necessarily extremely obedient), but I don't like the added pressure that Mother's Day brings.

That said, I happily enjoyed going to get a mani/pedi by myself on Sunday afternoon cause it was Mother's Day and John told me to.  I also decided that we needed to eat lunch and dinner out so I wouldn't be bothered with cooking or cleaning up, so though I may not like the pressure it can put on others, I am happy to reap the benefits.  You can just call me Carol Double Standard Spenst.

I think Mother's Day for me often caps off the emotional spring that I regularly experience.  It feels like the exclamation point on the extra feels I've been having for about a month (+ + this year 😳).  So this year, I'm glad that it's done.  Because of the ways that I share it with another mother close to our family, it often fills me with sadness.  I am reminded all over again of the ways that this world is not how it should be.  I long for heaven, which is a good, though hard, place to be.

But, it was a sweet day for me, and I'm thankful to be a mother.  8.5ish years into this gig, and there is SO much I've learned and SO MUCH still to learn.  I have finally figured out that it goes a million times faster than I thought it would.  The years are so short, so I'm glad that for now, I've got these four loves to snuggle and cherish in my home.

Sweet Muffins for Mom was last week with this precious kindergartner.



And, the twins' teacher got this adorable pic for me.

(Violet told me later that the sun was trying to get her.)

I woke up to gifts and a LOT of enthusiasm from the children who had been talking for a couple of weeks to Dad about Mother's Day and how to make it special.  I so appreciate their abundance of love for me.

One of my neighbors caught John at Target while they were getting cards and sent me this sweet shot.

All in all, I enjoyed the Mother's Day that I had, and I'm truly so grateful from the bottom of my heart for the mothers (my mom, my mother-in-law and Gran Gran) who have walked in front of our family and loved us so well.  We are better every day because of them.

HANDS FULL, HEART FULLER

#HandsFullHeartFuller - it's been my common refrain on Instagram, mainly since bringing home the twins.  Much of my identity has been wrapped up in "Motherhood" for many years now.  This word summons so many emotions and realities and truths in my world.  It's given me some of the greatest joys in my life and introduced me to so many more chances for sorrow and grief and pain and confusion.  When I signed up for it, over eight years ago, I knew it would change and mark me forever.

And it has.

I have almost always had a strong sense of myself, my likes/dislikes, my strengths/weaknesses.  As I became an adult, I had hopes for what my life would look like, and because of God's great grace, so many of those dreams have come true.  I became a mother, not just once, but four times.  The axis of my world shifted towards each of these children as they entered my life.  The dreams that I had for my own life morphed into hopes that I held for theirs.

My time changed dramatically.  No longer was it my own - instead, eight little hands clamored for it while their mouths laughed and cried and sang and whined and chatted the hours away.  There is always more work to make our family work.  The cycles of food and dishes and laundry march on as certain as the rising and setting sun.  Papers need to be signed, clothes need to be purchased, parties want to be planned and lessons need to be learned.

With my children now all in school, my mind has felt in a mild state of shock.  The past 7 years, and especially the last 3, have flown by in a blur of beauty and busy and banal and breathtaking.  My days have been so full of them that the time for other pursuits has been so slim.  So has the brain space.

3 weeks into this new life, and I am starting to get my sea legs.  A little.  My identity feels not quite as solid, because my hands aren't as full during the days.  It's funny the way that you start to define yourself by the ways that everyone else does.  I was the lady with the four kids, three of them mostly with me.  Everywhere I went, people commented on this.  (As a double bonus, two of the children are not the same color as me, so we got extra looks.)  Now, I glide throughout the grocery store without a second glance from strangers.

Don't get me wrong.  I don't miss the comments.  I miss the children.

I miss them at lunch, while I eat my quiet salad without anyone asking for any.  I miss them in my mornings that are now so simple and adult.  I miss them when I glance into their empty carseats and wonder how their days are progressing.  Do they like their food?  Have they talked with any friendly friends today?

And I don't miss my children, if I'm honest.  I love how easy it is to run errands.  I love being able to get things done efficiently.  I love taking showers without an audience.  I love being able to do the adult things that I haven't for the last bit of my life.  I love having new vistas and possibilities and dreams open to me as I seek the Lord and am able to see more clearly the paths that he has for me to walk in right now.  I love finding a new identity as a mother with children in school and thus more time on her hands.

My daily routine has shifted so dramatically. Now our afternoons are this fast and furious time of all-togetherness and activities and homework and hugs.  My hands are still full in the evenings, and I'm coming to see that my heart will always be the fullest.  Because even if I don't have four children with me all of the time, they still circle and claim my heart.  There are so many years still in front of us to be together - though I now understand that I will blink, and they will be heading off to college or whatever else God has for them.

This is my post of gratitude for where God has us and for the identity that he always gives me as his child.  Even when I feel so many other parts of my identity shifting, that always stays solid.  He's shaping us all, and I'm so thankful to be along for the ride, even if I don't always know what it will look like.

LIFE WITH TODDLER TWINS & MORE

Life has felt a little on the overwhelming side for a while now, and I'm realizing that it is not getting easier.  Certain things obviously ebb and flow, but there is a reality to our constant right now that is tiring.


(this is me trying to take a nap at nap time - which I hardly ever do, but I needed it - and I needed to block out the sound of twins running wild in their room.  a pillow over the ears does help a bit.)

Having toddler twins is not for the faint of heart, and when I feel faint-hearted, I am losing.  One current example of this is that Violet has decided that she needs to be potty trained, and for a while, I thought it was a kick she was on that could certainly not last.  Her language skills are behind by several months, so I wouldn't have picked NOW to start this dreaded process.  But, she has picked now and with authority.  There is success about 50% of the time.  She wants to go frequently and everywhere we go, so I definitely have a "toilet tourist" on my hands.

Since I didn't initiate this process, I have been dragging my feet and annoyed and hoping it would just pass.  After potty training the girls (which I hated), I have always said you should wait to potty train a child until they are absolutely ready.  I'm finally coming to grips with the fact that Violet is, and now I have to do the hard work.  I wasn't ready, but that doesn't matter.

William likes going into the bathroom and touching things, so that's been pretty awesome.

At Christmas, both twins decided that sleeping in their cribs was overrated.  This has meant a bit of pandemonium at nap time and bed time - just what I wanted to inject into those.  We transitioned them into toddler beds, and now we lock them into their room.  Every night is different, but V especially does not like to be contained and often bangs on the door.  Many nights she falls asleep on the floor by the door, and because her breathing is so loud, it feels like Darth Violet is breathing down your neck in the living room.

William refuses to walk out of doors when it is cold.

Violet can push a chair around the kitchen to climb anywhere she wants.

William hates to put on a coat and often hates changing his clothes.

It is a constant state of high alert, and I feel tired about it most of the time.  Plus, we are parenting two other precious children who come with their own fair share of drama.  I feel like I owe our two most recent babysitters public notes of apology, because they both had to experience very unpleasant behavior from our older girls in turn.  John and I actually cut a date night short to intervene just this weekend.

How do I bring this post around to something redemptive?  I'm not really sure at this point.  I want to be real here, and I also want to remind future Carol of what it was like.  I think some of these are things that get lost in the shuffle and glossed over with rosy haze- most of which is probably for the best.

The bottom line is that I am constantly needing more of Jesus to do life.  He's the only place that I can get the kind of energy that I need and a perspective that changes the sometimes drudgery into holy moments.  Also, I need his wisdom and extra doses of creativity and joy to be able to parent in a way that is pleasing to him and also the way I really want to treat my children.  They are gifts, and while I am totally honored to be able to parent them, I hope I survive at least until they are all five or older.  It will be only by God's grace.

FINDING THE HOLINESS IN MOTHERHOOD

Seven years ago today I was in labor with our oldest daughter.  I entered motherhood in slow, stilted fashion that included a lot of ice chips and vomit and shivering.  Sufficed it to say, I was not a fan of that particular experience, but the end result was so beautiful.  Baby Lily entered the world and the magic of parenthood engulfed and encircled us.

There was someone that was part of both John and I.  We were mother and father, where before, we had only been Carol and John and wife and husband.  It changed everything.  The opportunities to lay down self when parenting are myriad and endless.  Even last night, I was awakened in the middle of the night by pitiful yelling from a twin, and I was not exactly pleasant about the whole thing.

But oh, there is beauty and joy and holiness found in these halls of parenthood.

It catches me at strange moments, and my breath stops for an instant.  Is this real?  Do I really get to do this?  God entrusted these children to me, and that is staggering.  They are each so unique and have different talents and quirks that we see develop into greater detail as time rolls forward.



The hardness of it all makes it more refining.  There is a monotony that comes with laundry and meal planning and housework and discipline.  But this week, I've seen the holiness reflected in the work.  I'm setting things back to order, just as Adam and Eve did in the garden.  I tend this place and these people, and it is good work that mirrors the great work that God does in this world.  He makes order out of chaos.

Since my house is regularly chaos, I get a lot of opportunities for this kind of work.

I'm thankful for the gift to see this job for what it is - a gift.  I don't always feel this way, so when I can reframe it all to see the ways that God manifests himself in what so many of my hours are made up of, gratitude swells in my heart.

And just as these first seven years of parenting have flown by, I'm sure will the next seven years and beyond.  This parenting gig is forever, but these hard, honed in years are in reality pretty few.  I'm hoping and praying that God continues to give me glimpses of himself through it all as we seek to point our children toward him.

"SCREEN TIME" SHAME

I hesitate to write anything at all about "screen time," because things can so often be misconstrued when they come through writing.  I don't often take the time to share opinions on the blog, because I don't want to be controversial in any way.  And I want to come at things from a place of humility that recognizes that I do NOT know everything, and I may turn out to be wrong and change my opinion from time to time. I am a work in progress, just like everyone else.

All of that said, I am going to share a few things that I think.  Feels really scary.

Here's how screen time works around here.  Lily and Bella usually have about an hour of something sometime during our day.  It is not set in stone, and some days would be more than that, and other days there would be no screen time.  It totally depends on what we have going on.  I have tried to structure it so that they do not feel entitled to watch something or expect that it will happen the same way all the time.  Basically, I try to use screen time to my advantage to get things done.

And if they have watched TV during the day, it is unlikely that I would let them play on the iPad.  But when they do play on the iPad, it is almost always something "educational."  Lily is currently working her way through Hooked on Phonics and loving it.

I don't want my children to be glued to screens.  I want them to play and be outdoors and imagine and create and read.  Most of most of our days are geared towards those things.

Today, I was sitting in the waiting room of the twins' therapy with the girls.  We had finished eating lunch, and I had decided to bring the iPad and an old iPhone for the girls to use today.  One woman walked past and said, "What did we do before we had iPads and iPhones?"  The older receptionist lady who is always there, who I really like, piped in with, "We talked to our children."

Now wait a minute.

That was certainly a moment when I got to choose my inner and outer response.  I tried not to take this comment personally or assume that she was implying that I never talk to my children, though that leap would not take much.  She sees us two hours a week at most, and often, we run errands during therapy, so usually it would only be one hour a week.  And I often let them use something while we are there - it is a small waiting area, with a limited number of toys.  So, yes, I use screen time in this situation so I can take my computer and work on photo books and not break up very loud fighting over toys geared towards babies.  It works for me.  I also spend a lot of time talking with my children, just not in the therapy waiting room.  Clearly, I feel a little defensive about this.

We live in an era where children are regularly taking in far too much time on devices or glued to a television set.  I think that most people agree on that.  This is one of those things that can easily become a "Mommy War" of sorts, because it is yet another thing for us to make comparisons on and see how we stack up in the world.

Mothers who use no screen time ever often feel and/or act superior, as if their children are getting a magical childhood from ages past and will have brains far better than those of their screen addicted peers.  Mothers who default to screen time often feel like they don't have other options, and they are just trying to get through the day and stop the whining.  And some of those mothers really don't have other options, because they have to work or are not well equipped to parent and don't know how to do anything else.

In my experience, most people that I run with try to find a balance, which is always the hardest place to live.  It would be easier to just say NO, not ever, than to figure out when it makes sense.  It would be easier to say YES, whenever, because screen time does pacify children.

So living in the middle is where we find ourselves, swinging between the extremes and trying to feel like we are doing the right thing.  Parenting is really hard, and we are constantly having to make choices about what to do.  And there is so much info and so many opinions and oh my goodness, how will my children ever turn out okay?

As we continue to swing, I hope and pray that we find ways to give ourselves and others grace.  I do want to live intentionally and know why I am choosing something.  I don't want to/need to feel guilty every time I hand my child a device or turn on the television.  And I really don't want other people to try to make me feel guilty about it.

ON BEING A STAY AT HOME MOM

Last week we headed to Siloam Springs for JBU Leadership Day.  John had been invited to be on a panel with a few other alumni to talk business, give feedback and provide guidance to JBU students.  I am so thankful he had this opportunity, because he loves being able to give back in this way and finds it invigorating.

I went along and hung out with the girls all day, like usual.  We spent time with Ellen and True, and I showed Ellen how to ice a cake.  There was a little movie time, there was nap time, there was whine time, there was feeding time . . . it was a pretty normal day, just in a different place - a change I am usually up for.

I draw a comparison between our days, because it occurred to me while driving back on Thursday night that this day typifies our life right now.  I have chosen to stay at home with our girls.  John has chosen to spend time working and providing for our family.  We both fell into these roles pretty naturally, because we both grew up in homes where our mothers stayed at home with us.  We did talk about this in early marriage and picture it being this way.  Though I had not always aspired to be a "stay-at-home-mom," when the time came, I seized the chance.

I am so thankful to have the opportunity to be a SAHM.  It affords me a front-row seat to my girls' lives day in and day out.  I get to be a primary influence in their little worlds.  It allows me a measure of freedom in our schedule.  Most of the time, I really love it, and I am well-suited to it.

However, it does not come without its challenges.  And, in the past 6 months, I have spent more time and energy outside of our home coordinating fundraisers and serving on the board of a non-profit.  This has been good and hard.  I really enjoy working with other adults and using some of my giftings in ways that serve a greater purpose.  The feedback and affirmation of things done well feels good.  It has reopened my eyes to the world outside of our home and even outside of CFA.  If I had chosen a different path, I could have a career and do stuff and feel accomplished.  Maybe I would be the one at Leadership Day.

Very rarely, I find myself envious of John and the opportunities he gets.  When my main job falls within our home, the two people that could give me feedback most often don't always speak in full sentences.  I measure success by how much laundry I did or didn't get done.  And usually, I didn't get it done.

I say all of this to bring it back around - I am glad that for right now, I get to stay home.  It is not for everyone, and certainly God calls each of us to different things at different times, but I am happy to say that all things considered, I am content.  I do have opportunities to serve outside of our home right now, and I am taking them for this time, especially since I know that once we have two more children, I will be more limited.  I want to be submitted to God, and I can see that being John's wife and Lily and Bella's mom is where most of my energy should go at this phase in our lives.  It fits our family well.

That may change as time goes on, and in some ways, I might welcome that.  For now, I will rejoice in the simplicity of having one working parent in our house and me running the show here.  I pray that I am able to be sensitive to what God has for us in each season.

Assumptions and an Ultrasound

      If you read this post, you know that we had an ultrasound scheduled for Lily at Children's Hospital.    It was yesterday.  Here's sweet girl in the waiting room, Lambie along for comfort.  (If you read this post, then you know we have had our issues with doctors before, and I was understandably nervous.)

      While we were in the waiting room, there were many other families to watch.  In new situations, Lily often will hang back, and since she knew that something unusual was coming, she was quite content to sit next to me on our little couch, cuddling with Lambie and I.  Bella was at home with a sitter.  Being at Children's (I used to volunteer there, BK (Before Kids)), always makes me grateful for health, especially now in my own children.  We had a while to wait, so we sat and took things in.

      After a while, another family sat down across from us.  It was a mother with a boy around Lily's age and another infant boy, and she was accompanied by two other adults who seemed to be her parents.  The little boy was a curious fellow, and he was talking to other people in the waiting room and generally quite restless.  Pretty typical little boy, from what I have observed.

     I saw the mother watching Lily, and then she leaned over to her parents and commented on how sweet and easy little girls often are.  They are content to sit still and watch things.  (I clearly have a problem with eaves-dropping to have overheard all of this.)  Once she realized that I was close enough to hear, she made the comment to me about how little girls are content to wait patiently.  She was actually quite nice and meant no harm, but it hit me all over again, WE ALL MAKE ASSUMPTIONS.  All the time, about everyone, usually without even half of the story.

      She had no idea that the reason we were there is most likely that my daughter and I are in some kind of power struggle over potty training, but I am making absolutely sure that we are not dealing with something physical.  It's a desperate hope - not even a hope, because I don't want for something to be physically wrong.  I just want some answers and some help.  I watched as her normal boy told her that he needed to go potty, and into the bathroom they went, with no drama or pretense, and I made assumptions about them.

      I assumed that he was a normal, active little boy.  I had no idea why they were there, but things looked fine.  She also had two other adults with her, helping her.  It must be so nice to have your parents living in town.  How easy for her - though she has those two children, she also has parents helping her every step of the way.

      How often do I do this to other mothers?  A lot, if I am honest.  I make snap judgments that are based on very limited facts.  I extrapolate the tiny bit of information that I have and make a life for them and imagine the decisions that they should make.  Ironically, I hate it when I feel that other mothers are doing this to me.  In fact, it is probably one of my pet peeves, which says more about my own issues and pride than the people I am running into.

      I am learning, slowly, but surely, that each child and situation is different.  Kids come pre-programmed (so do parents, for that matter), and there is absolutely no One Size Fits All way to parent.  Anyone who tells you so has never had their own children.  Parenting requires so much more guess-work and prayer-work than I even imagined it would, and there are still so many unknowns.  Parenting also teaches humility, if we are willing to learn it.  I have so much to learn.  I want to learn and live the humility that says, "You probably do know best what to do with your child, even if it is worlds apart from what I would choose.  You are living with them, day in and day out, and I know that you are most likely doing the best that you can."  I want to cheer on and encourage other mothers and never make them question their decisions, especially since most mothers that I know do not arrive at decisions half-heartedly or without thought.  I am learning.

      As for the ultrasound, Lily did great.  Better than I ever could have imagined.  My brave girl.



I actually just got the call that everything is normal, which is such a blessing.  And what I expected, which leads us towards the child psychologist at the end of next month.  Joy.  (though seriously, I am looking forward to the professional help.)

Afterwards, we went for a cupcake date at one of our favorite places in town.







This girl loves her some cupcake.

Trying to Tame the Bladder of Steel

      I should start this post with several disclaimers.  First, I feel more than a little defensive and overwhelmed about potty-training.  Oh, and also dramatic.  Second, don't read this if you haven't potty trained a child yet, because you will never, ever want to try.  Third, who knew that God was trying to get to us through every single little thing in our lives and will resort to using our children?  It seems he is really trying to teach me something, and I am too dense to figure out what it is, which means that I am having to try to rely on him more, which I'm sure is what he wants after all.  That said, I will now start really writing this blog post about our week, which I described to my community group friends today as "hell."
      My dear mother came back with us from Siloam Springs and was here through this morning.  We figured this would be an excellent time to tackle potty training Lily, who turned 3 in January and has been not super excited about the idea.  What I know about Lily is that she often needs to be pushed off proverbial cliffs of change, because she is often not super willing to adapt on her own.  She has every sign of readiness imaginable for potty training, except that she doesn't seem really motivated to try.
      After hearing lots of friends talk about this phase, after reading some Pinterest posts (of course discarding the ones that start with stuff like, "use cloth diapers" and "start early") and talking to John and my mom, we had a plan.  Load Lily up on snacks and drinks, which she was very willing to share with Bella.



Have a lot of one on one time with her and do things that are fun to her.  Turns out, she could do glue and glitter all the live long day, if we let her.




Read books and/or watch movies while sitting on the potty to make it more fun.

Not make a big deal about accidents, but get them cleaned up quickly.  Here she is watching her things go round and round.

      I thought that surely, after three days of this type of treatment, we would have arrived some place different.  Turns out, Lily likes to buck the norms, and I am having to learn to be patient and change strategies as we go.  Both things that I am not great at.  We are fighting a bladder of steel - she can go very long periods of time (like 6 hours) without using the bathroom at all.  She does want to learn and wear panties like a big girl, but there are some other control issues at play that have made this week feel a bit like psychological warfare.
      So, here we are on Thursday, and all I can say is that we are going to continue going forward, though we may relax our pace a bit.  I want to give her time to adjust, since she clearly needs that.  I realized that I was reluctant to write anything about this, because I didn't want to present something so "in process."  It is way more fun to be able to say, "I did these things for the last three days, and boom, my child is potty trained!"  But, that is not what it is going to be like here.  I envy those parents, and I am learning a lot of humility and a lot of letting go, because I cannot control when and how Lily learns to do this.  Clearly.
      Having my mom here was a life-saver.  It is so wonderful to be able to look over at someone else in the good, the bad and the funny moments that have made up this week.  She graciously watched the girls while we were at Community Group, which involved all kinds of heroics on her part.  What a wonderful gift this time has been, even though it didn't bring the results we had hoped for in the end.



So that is my "in process" potty training post.  I hope it is an encouragement to someone.  For me, I am realizing all over again, that so many things in life do not have short cuts.  There is no way around, behind, over or under, there is only through.  Thankfully, I serve a God who promises to walk through things with me, and though there are things much worse in life, this is my current trial, and I am grateful to not be in it alone.

Confessions of a Sometimes Delinquent Mother

      Yesterday, I took the girls to the doctor's office for their well check-ups.  Here is where I must confess - I missed Bella's one year check-up and apparently, her 15 month check-up as well.  Bella had a really mild ear infection near the one year mark, and I just didn't get around to taking her again til yesterday.  And, I am two months behind on Lily's yearly check-up.  "How did the appointment go?", one might ask.  Welp, apparently, in the year that has lapsed since Lily's last check-up, she has decided that having to do anything at the doctor's office is not for her.

      Kind Nurse:  "Miss Lily, can you step on this scale?"
      Lily:  Lots of screaming and crying
      Me:  "Lily, if you step on the scale I will give you Oreos.  Do you want Oreos?"  (I happened to have some in my purse.)
      Lily:  More screaming, paired with whimpering and edging farther away.
      Me:  "This is not how we act.  You need to pull it together and stop screaming.  Do you understand me?"
      Lily:  "Yes, ma'am."  More screaming.
      Kind Nurse, who is starting to get a little annoyed since it is late in the day:  "Look, Bella wants to get on the scale.  The scale is fun."  When this produces only more wailing from Lily, she turns to me and says, "We are going to have you hold her on the scale and then weigh you separately."

Here's the good news.  Both girls are in excellent health, which I am so grateful for.  Bella was really sweet until her five shots.  The doctor's office was running on schedule, and so things, mercifully, did not take a really long time.  Lily did not need shots, thank God.
Here's the funny news.  Lily weighs 29 lbs.  Bella weighs 27.5 lbs.  Awesome.
Here's the bad news.  Lily looked like this anytime the nurse or doctor touched her or really even spoke to her.

I am shocked that her blood pressure was not through the roof with this kind of reaction.  This picture makes me laugh really hard, especially since it looks like I am laughing through the horror of it all.  I really didn't think it was very funny, but this moment, when I was trying to distract her with anything, did prove to be entertaining.  Then, the nurse went through the check-list of all the things a normal three year old should be able to do.  Lily is a go in all areas.  Except for one.

      Kind Nurse:  "Is she completely potty-trained for both day and night?"
      Me:  "Not even close.  Not even a little bit."
      Kind Nurse, who is now eyeing me skeptically since I clearly was overdue on check-ups for my younger child and cannot get my older child to behave AT ALL:  "Are you working on that?"
      Me, what My Internal Monologue Said:  "Of course I am working on that.  I know that she should be potty-trained.  Clearly, she is smart and capable.  Maybe instead of looking at me so disapprovingly you should give me a few pointers or at least be sympathetic that it might be a difficult thing to do with a stubborn child."
      Me, what I actually said:  "Yes, we are working on it.  Basically the behavior that you have seen here is what we get during potty training."
      Kind Nurse, who is very grateful that she is not the one giving out shots this afternoon, so she is almost done with us:  "Oh."

      As we were wrapping up our session o' fun, Bella had to get a ton of shots, since I had missed a couple of check-ups.  Fortunately, these went quickly, and she stopped crying quickly.  Here's Bella post-shot.  She is mostly upset that I am taking a picture of her and not holding her, but by this point, I knew this was an adventure that needed to be documented.  So, she is self-soothing by rubbing her belly button.

When it was all said and done, I did find out that actually, my delinquency had paid off.  They told us not to come back until Bella's two year check-up, because of the way the shots need to be given (or maybe they just do not want to have to see us again for as long as possible).  I managed to cover three well check-ups with one, which feels like a giant win after how miserable it was.

      As we were leaving, Lily asked if she could have an Oreo.  I said no.

Sideline Mothering

      I am a mom.  I am a homemaker.  I do "mom" things.  While it does not ultimately define who I am, it does dictate a lot of my life right now.  This also means that I hang around with other moms a lot.  Which I am so thankful for, because talking with other mothers and hearing about their mom worlds can help normalize my own.
      However, there are some drawbacks.  Comparison is something that so easily creeps into life, and the mom world is very fertile ground for this.  And, while I struggle with comparison to some degree (why is your child so much more pleasant to adults than mine?), I have realized that more than that, I struggle with thinking that I know best - that I even know better than that mom might, maybe even about her own child.  How horrible is that?  I know the root of this is pride, and that is a sin.  I found myself sideline mothering before I even had kids - thinking, "If only she would do this, then that child would not behave that way" or "Doesn't she realize what is happening?"  I could be and can be extremely judgemental in my mind before I have even made a conscious decision to go down that road.  I also thought that when I was a mom, I would get it right.  Sure, I would make mistakes here and there, but ultimately, I would know what to do.
      Then, I became a mom to these two precious girls.




And the curveballs began.  Why is breastfeeding so much harder than it seems it should be?  Why does my child crawl like a pirate?  Why does it feel like I am wrestling a pig to dress my one year old?  Why does she react so intensely to someone else eating something when she has a plate full of food?  Why is it so hard to get into the car?  Why does she have to ask "why"?  Will my child ever, I mean, ever be potty-trained?
      And the guessing game began.  Oh how motherhood is so much more guesswork than I would have imagined.  If something doesn't work, try something else.  Ask your husband, ask the doctor, ask your mother-in-law, ask God and keep throwing things at the problem until something sticks.  And then in a week, it will change.  This is motherhood.
      For all of that, I still often think I know or should know the answers.  I have a degree in Family stuff!  I come from a great family!  I am smart!  I should know what to do.  I still often look into the families around me and think I know what they should do, which is wrong and prideful.  They know their children best and are seeking the Lord for wisdom and trying their hardest.  Sideline mothering is a dangerous and prideful road to walk.
      What I am realizing even now, is that I am afraid people are sideline mothering me.  I am afraid of being really real with where we are in potty training (which is nowhere), because I do not want some other mom thinking she knows best what I should do.  That is the sick way that I think sometimes, and I don't want it to make me miss out on the wisdom of those around me.  I want to be authentic about the real struggles that we face.  I know that potty training is not a true hardship in life, and I know that someday, my children will be potty trained.  They will be big girls, and this will all be behind us.  (For good and for bad.)  Somehow.
      But, walking the road from point A to point B seems like a challenge right now.  And, I am realizing that for Lily, it is largely a control issue.  (I think.  I am guessing again.)  The Lord will give us wisdom, and we will do the hard work, and someday Lily will not wear diapers.  It will be in the right time for our family.  I will stop reading the research that children in our country are potty-trained later than most of the world and wondering where I went wrong.  It will happen when it should, and I am praying that I will know at what point I may have to really force the issue.  Because it may come to that.
      And, I will thank the Lord for what he is teaching me through Lily and Bella, because it is more than I would have thought.




It was easier to sideline mother before I had kids - now in many ways I have more compassion, and in other ways, I still find myself thinking I know best.  But I don't, and I am thankful for the humbling roads that I get to walk that teach me that.  I really am, because I know that I will be a better mother, wife, and friend because of it.  Thanks be to God.

First World Problems

      This post has been on my heart for a while.  Months ago I saw a Twitter post to Facebook that was mentioning some small annoyance with the hashtag of #firstworldproblem.  I should just put it out there that I am basically Twitter illiterate and scared of ever using it, but I have sort of figured out those little hashtags since they get posted to Facebook and talked about on NPR.  I am a major nerd.  Anyway, I wish I had taken note of who had written this, because it really stuck with me.
      John and I have used this one liner as a running joke in our house to keep things in perspective.  I started using it when we were working on getting a play kitchen for the girls.  It started with this stove.



      John found it on deep discount clearance at Sears after Christmas and brought it home, since I had mentioned wanting to get a play kitchen for the girls at some point.  At $12.50 - it was a great deal.  However, we immediately realized that there were other pieces that matched it, and we wanted them all. We have a thing with complete sets and matching, and once something is on John's mental list, he wants to check it off.  So we started scouring the internet for the matching pieces, but came up woefully short.
      Months later, a friend was at K-Mart and found the sink.  John got it within the hour, and when we headed to Wichita for my Mom's wedding, he called the K-Marts there and found the refrigerator.  Play kitchen trifecta complete.



As we were driving to get the last piece, I said, "You know, it really is a first world problem to worry about getting a play refrigerator."  And we laughed.  Because the reality is that we do live in the first world, and I do not think it is bad to have a play kitchen.  (In fact, I am actually working on making the whole area really cute.)  But there are some hard realities in our world, and I often need to gain a little perspective about what my problems are.
      As we watched CNN the other night, I heard the statistic that 30,000 children have died in the last 30 days in the horn of Africa due to extreme drought and famine there.  That is staggering.  Children like Lily and Bella who were not born into the first world, which is not their fault.  I used to just think that we could simply share out of our excess, but now I know that it is so much more complicated than that.  There are corrupt governments and people that exacerbate the issues and make it harder than it should be to help those in need.  And the needs are so great.
      Yesterday was a hard mommy day.  Bella was really fussy from getting a mouthful of teeth, and Lily spent most of the day defying every single simple instruction that I gave to her.  Which is exhausting.  I was bogged down in the need to do things like grocery shop, launder clothes and clean, and I was complaining about meal planning.  Those are all first world problems.  Most of the world wishes those were the problems that they had.
      I want to keep perspective and teach perspective.  We have so much - far more than we need and sometimes, more than is even good for us.  We have fake food to go into a fake kitchen, which seems so unfair in a world where people starve to death everyday.  Where children starve to death.  I pray that the Lord shows us our responsibility in this world to care for those around us and gives us the strength to do what He calls us to.  I don't want to be so caught up in my first world problems that I lose sight of what suffering really is, and I want to use all that we have been given to be a blessing.  In whatever ways we can be.

*Edited:  I found out that this phrase probably came from this YouTube Video that John and I watched a couple of times last night and laughed a lot - so funny!  Thanks for the tip-off, Carly!

Things I Did Not Expect about Motherhood

      The last couple of weeks have been a blur since I have traveled two out of the last three weekends and will be gone again this weekend (Birmingham - here we come!).  In the middle of packing and driving, I have been trying to do other things around the house - cook, clean, random craft projects (insert regret that I have not yet finished the plaid wall, though it is coming along).  Before I left for Wichita, I tried to finish sorting through all of the girls' clothes that they have outgrown and replace them with clothes for the upcoming season.  This is just one of the piles that I was making.



Which got me thinking. I did not expect this part of being a mom.  I did not realize that managing my children's wardrobes would be such a gigantic overhaul at least twice a year.  More if I was better organized.  With little drawers like this that need to be filled and accessible so that getting dressed in the often rushed mornings is no more drama than necessary.



And I didn't really think through that I would have BINS of clothing.  For which I am so thankful, truly, but really, BINS of clothing?  I just never contemplated it.



All of this got me thinking about my expectations coming into this great adventure of motherhood.  There are a lot of things I knew to expect and that I awaited with differing levels of eagerness or anxiety.  I expected to love my children more than I imagined possible.  I expected to change nasty diapers.  I expected to have to die to self more and more as little lives depended on mine.  However, parenthood has had its share of curveballs - good and bad.  Here's my list.

Challenges I didn't fathom:
--  I didn't grasp the level of sacrifice having a child is physically.  I knew it would be hard.  I knew my body would change.  Until I did it, I did not understand that pregnancy is a totally consuming experience.  When I looked at the diagrams for what was going on inside my body by the end of the pregnancy, I realized that it is by no means sustainable, and is, in fact, a serious medical condition.  It is a good thing it doesn't last any longer - but then, there's breastfeeding.
--  I did not expect breastfeeding to be a challenge - and with Bella, it has been great!  But with Lily - oh, it was not.  And to be honest, even having a great experience, breastfeeding is not my favorite thing ever.  The round the clock experience that it is definitely took me off-guard.
-- I didn't realize the ways my life would change.  I knew it would, obviously.  However, I didn't think about the fact that I would need to make friends in a similar stage as mine in order to survive.  Since college, I had basically done life with John and not had to make friends on my own.  It was strange to make friends without him, and I didn't like it at first at all.
-- I did not know how hard disciplining our child would be.  I never in a million years imagined that I would have to spank my child over 15 times in a row for the same infraction before she capitulated.  She needed to know that I was serious, and I had to win.  It takes an enormous amount of energy to determine what consequences should be and to be consistent, loving and patient.  It has drawn me to the Lord in a new way, since I have felt at much more of a loss than I ever imagined I would.
--  I knew it would challenge our marriage, but I didn't realize in what ways.  Having children drew some lines for us that we didn't have before.  It is what we have always wanted, and I am so thankful to be able to stay home with our girls, but it is hard for John and I to live in such different worlds.  It takes more intentionality and creativity to know how to balance family life, work life, social life, ect., all while trying to learn how to serve one another better.  Which is a constant challenge.

All of that said, I wouldn't change a thing, because the wonderful things that I didn't think of make up for it all.
--  I knew that it would be special to have children with my best friend.  I didn't realize the true depth of love that is borne out of this experience.  The Lord allows us to create a family - little lives that we cherish, out of the love that he has given us for each other.  What a privilege and miracle.  It is truly amazing to share this journey together.
--  One of my favorite things that I didn't think to anticipate - when Lily willingly and joyfully wants to hug me.  Because she wants to.  Because she loves me.  Because it is her idea to give me a hug.  I love it.
--  I had a feeling that it would get more entertaining when Lily started talking.  And I was more than 100% right.  Having children is more entertaining than I even dreamed it could be.  And getting to laugh with John about the big and little things that happen really can make my day.
--  Seeing the love that my girls already have for one another is more wonderful than I could have thought.  They LOVE each other (especially since Bella cannot yet take toys away from Lily)!  They make each other giggle and laugh, and I so look forward to the what I hope will be a dynamic friendship for life that they are building.  I love looking down in the double stroller to see that Lily is holding Bella's hand.  Too precious.
--  Because we have had some extreme situations with Lily and discipline, we have already gotten to see some great payoff in the area of discipline.  I didn't realize how rewarding it would be to see my child learn how to obey and to want to please us.
--  Seeing the way that God creates each of us uniquely right from the very beginning is pretty amazing.  Bella and Lily are already so different, because God has designed them to be so.

I really could go on and on.  There are great days, and there are harder days - just like in most people's lives.  I am really thankful to be where I am at for right now, whether I knew what all it would entail or not.