Mommyontheboysturf with her three sons

Mommyontheboysturf with her three sons

Monday, October 1, 2012

Double Digits

Oldest is TEN!  Officially in the double-digits for the rest of his life, unless he lives to be 100.  He is a gigantic part of the best decade of my life. It started with marriage followed by boy 1, boy 2, and boy 3...or Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy.

Of course there is much excitement around the birth of your firstborn.  All the newness and itty bitty clothes, diapers, and shoes. Oldest started our parenting journey and the cycle of hand-me-downs for his two little brothers.  I still can't believe I am at this point -- a TEN YEAR OLD?  Wow.

Dear Oldest,

Let me start by saying you are an incredible son. From day one, you bounced out of the womb with energy and an insatiable appetite.  Your cry was never cute. It was a full roar!  You never needed a lot of sleep and you let us know that from the start.  When all the other newborns were sleeping 18 hours a day, you didn't give into peer pressure.   To this day, you like to stay up late and read.

One thing I have always loved about you is your passion.  Each stage in your life has brought out determined enthusiasm about something/someone. When you were one, you had a fascination with trash cans and trash trucks.  Whereever we went, you went straight for the trash can.  At two, you loved Curious George and I even caught you constructing skis with hockey sticks and taping your shoes to the "skis" to be like Curious George. We have gone through the military phase, the firefighter stage, the hockey stage (your room still reflects this) and the spy phase.  You pour 100% into your phase of the moment in your attire, book selection, Christmas gift list, etc.  You learn as much as you can and you aren't afraid to share your knowledge.

Right now, you are surprising and alarming us with your computer skills and knowledge.  Even the librarians know what section to take you to -- the adult computer manuals.  The head librarian offered you a job a while back when he saw the stack of books you were checking out.  Today you started a blog all on your own.  You have far surpassed me in your knowledge. Having an in-house tech support is fabulous! No more being "on hold" on the phone. 

Oldest, you have such a sensitive heart. You don't like to see others hurting.  You want to make sure your heart is "right" before God. It has been so neat to see your desire to read the Bible and memorize God's word. I see growth in you. You have had the opportunity to stand up for what is "right" and I could not be more proud of you. 

You are a GIVER of good things.  Time and time again, you have sacrificed to give something of great/worth and value to you.  You have made lists of what you want to give others.  You share your favorite things with your favorite people. Daddy told me just this week about you offering your favorite, rare treat to him.  That makes my heart so happy.  You have learned to give. What a gift.

If I could give you advice, it would be the same thing I have been telling myself for a few decades.  Don't be so hard on  yourself. You don't have to be perfect.  It's okay to make a mistake or mess up.  Just keep trying. And, get back up.  Give yourself GRACE just like God gives you grace. 

This past decade has been wonderful.  You enjoy life.  What will the next decade be like? You will enter the tweens and teens.  Will I still blogging on your twentieth? If so, I can guarantee, it will even longer and more things to "brag" about.  I pray you continue to live a life of integrity and uprightness. I can't wait to see how God uses the gifts and talents He has given you.  Continue to be passionate about God and people and life.

Oh, happy double-digits Oldest.  I love you so!

Wednesday, September 26, 2012


Four years into homeschooling and we are still on a rollercoaster. Up and Down. Around we go.

Each week is a series of highs and lows. I can't do this. I can do this. I love this. I _ _ _ _ (insert a four letter word that starts with "H" and rhymes with late that we try not to use.) I tempt myself with thoughts of a brick and mortor school. I daydream of waving good-bye to the bright yellow bus and actually having TIME. Then I realize that homeschooling GIVES me time to do what matters most to me. Sure, some days I feel like I have been dragged through the day, while others, I have the proverbial "bull by the horns". Busy. Bored. Well, no not bored. Never ever bored. Dirty. Clean. Organized to dis-organized in minutes flat. A cycle of opposites that is never mundane.

Rollercoasters are thrilling, stomach tingling, and exhilerating. Just ponder the names of the top roller coasters -- The Beast, The Intimidator, Goliath, The Terror, and Desparado.  Have you ever heard of a coaster with a name like, Peace, Lazy River, or Princess?  No! The big name promotes a bit of fear in and of itself.  I'm thinking of a name change for our school -- Adrenaline Academy.  It fits.  Like a real coaster, sometimes I just want off the ride! They are scary and dark especially when I can't see what's around the corner. Other times I am left feeling a little sick to my stomach and I just want to park myself at the nearest bench. The adrenaline rush is over.

Homeschooling brings about those same emotions. The thrill of teaching Middleson to read. Watching Oldest soar right past me in technology is amazing. Babyboy's desire to mimic his big brothers tickles my tummy. And, all this togetherness brings about an unexplainable joy. But, what about tomorrow? Am I doing enough? Have I covered all the bases? Am I forgetting something? Weariness sets in like a fog despite my efforts in being prepped and ready to go. I want to "retire" and put my kids on the nearest bus.

All in all, (for us) homeschooling is a gift. It's hard work. Anything with worth takes work. I think of training for a long running race. Sometimes the run is effortless and enjoyable. Sometimes I drag my legs around forcing them to take another step. But, when I cross the finish line it is ALL VICTORY and NO REGRET for the hours of training, the pain, or the early mornings. Homeschooling is more thrill than shrill. More ups than downs. Worth the price of admission. Ready to roll....let's go for another ride.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Treasure Hunt

"Mommy, where is my puppy with the pajamas on?" Babyboy pleaded. For clarification's sake, it is a stuffed bear with a real-baby-boy sleeper on.

Instantly, my mind mentally rewinded the day trying fo find the last glimpse of Babyboy's favorite stuffed animal. Bike ride. Outside. Nap. Late lunch. Post office. Library. Bank. Kroger. Thrift store. SCREEEEEEECH!

Our first "pop" was into the thrift store to find some gently used books. Since we were "popping" in, I decided NOT to take the stroller and nodded in agreement to taking puppy in. That was my first mistake. You can't look through used books at a thrift store quickly. There is no rhyme or reason to the way books are shelved. You don't take a stuffed animal into a thrift store because like finds like. Babyboy's puppy suddenly multiplied to stuffed ducks, bears, and frogs. All I could see was a deep scour in the shower upon arriving home. Oldest and Middleson also did their fair share of sliding around the cement floor while I found some wonderful books on my treasure hunt. We found a 1969 copyright of "Around the World in Eighty Days". Cha Ching!

After seeing the time, we popped out of the thrift store as quickly as we popped in. I can vividly see NOW that puppy did not exit with us. At the time I was more concerned about keeping my three boys alive and into the van safely while carrying an armload of books, my keys, my wallet, my phone, and my sunglasses. Note to self: Take the stroller anyway even when you don't need it for a child. It acts as purse with wheels.

Then a myriad of errands took us all over our little town and back home for a very late lunch. Naptime. Bike ride. Dinner. Bedtime. Puppy is missing. Emergency.

I 9-1-1 the thrift store. "We were in the store this morning and we left my son's very special stuffed puppy. Well actually it is a bear that we call a dog, wearing a sleeper." I rambled giving way tooo many details. "What is a sleeper?" Miss Clerk asked. She clearly never had a baby that came with a registry checklist that says you need 8-10 sleepers. "It is like a full body suit with arms and legs and snaps." I described. "Let me check." After what seemed like a long time, she gave me the terrible news. "I'm sorry, I can't find anything like that."

Babyboy sobbed. It was sorrowful. "Puppy is my best friend. I know. I have an idea. Maybe next time we go back he will be there for me." Dagger in the heart. There would be no more puppy to go with us everywhere.

Supermom to the rescue. Already pajama-ed and ready for bed (yes at 8:30 pm), I threw on my clothes and left the house on a mission. Daddy and I even prayed before I left that we would find this prized possession.

I entered the store like it was the emergency room, desperate for help, and racing with the clock. The store closed in minutes. I was ready to pull bear/puppy from the arms of anyone who dared try to buy him. With the meanest face I could muster I searched every nook and cranny. I still saw the evidence of our visit earlier that day. Our stack of rejected books still lay neatly. BUT WHAT ABOUT THE BEAR???

Next I headed to the stuffed animal bin, clawing my way through every stuffed thing I told my kids NOT to touch. Suddenly. My heartrate increased. My breathing quickened. Those black eyes and the cute little nose. Surely there isn't another one with a red bow. That's right. THIS was the bear that Daddy sent to me back in the days when he was trying to get my attention. This wasn't just any bear. I FOUND HIM! With a whoop of victory, I headed to the infant clothes to solve the rest of the mystery.

Like Inspector Gadget I reasoned that a store clerk found the animal shortly after we left. Obviously they thought a child found a sleeper from the rack and cutely attired the bear while mommy or daddy was shopping. WRONGO. That isn't the way it happened. Hmmm....the stuffed animals do not have a pricetag, but the clothing DOES have tags. I bet the sleeper got sent to the backroom to get tagged. I pleaded with Miss Clerk to go to the back and look for a sleeper.

"What is a sleeper?" she asked for the second time. I described it in full detail ADDING that it was very sentimental because Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy ALL came home from the hospital in that article of clothing otherwise known as a sleeper.

12 verylongminutes later she emerged with THE sleeper!! Whooo Hoooo.

I left the store singing praises and speeding just a touch. For someone who is a full abider of the speed limit, this shows my exuberance and excitement in getting home. I pressed the pedal to the metal and went 37 in a 35mph.

A grand reunion was celebrated upon returning home! Today puppy/bear and his sleeper are laundered and heavily doted on by all! Babyboy's prayers were answered.

Oh the love of a parent for their child.

Oh the love of God for me. He'd do anything for me. He did everything for me.
He pursues me when I don't know I am lost. He puts me back together and He cleans me. He reunites me to Himself. He celebrates who and whose I am.

The Greatest Treasure Hunt I know.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Multi-tasking vs. Single-tasking

Every mom learns the language of multi-tasking the second her precious child is born. All of the sudden, this 8 pounder needs to be changed, fed, burped,and rocked. As subsequent children are born, her multi-tasking vocabulary expands even more as she attempts to meet the needs of more children. It's a requirement at times, but not always.

Unfortunately and fortunately, multi-tasking is my first language. My native tongue. Of course, multi-tasking has its benefits, but it also has its pitfalls. I love to accomplish. The more I multi-task, the more I achieve. I recall coming home from the grocery store when Oldest was an infant -- holding him with one arm, propping a bottle in his mouth with my chin, and emptying grocery bags away with my "free" hand. Accomplish much? Yes, I guess so. But, I missed watching him swallow as he guzzled his milk. I missed the way he gazed at me when I looked at him.

Slowly, but surely, I am learning the language of single-tasking. Focusing on the moment, that thing right in front of me. Whether it is a task or a child or a conversation. There is something to be said for focus and living in the moment. I think multi-tasking makes me believe if I hurry through these moments, there will be more time for focusing at the end. That's the lie of multi-tasking since there is always more to do.

When I drive my car without the distraction of a cell-phone conversation, I am enriched by conversation with my own children. Often we use that time to pray together or just to talk. Really talk. I don't want to miss out on that.

When we go on a bike-ride or walk, it is tempting to "plug in" to my I-pod and engage in a podcast or song. I can do that when I am alone. I miss questions like, "Why are the leaves on the tree brown instead of green?" I miss the hoops and hollars of two brothers racing down the street on bikes.

On the homefront, multi-tasking tends to make mistakes. Recipes gone bad due to a missing ingredient. Boiled-over jam. A hose left on. A boy in the shower way too long.

I am paraphrasing from the book, "A Thousands Gifts". What often comes to mind is a paragraph Ann Voskamp had on hurrying. She said that being in a hurry empties the soul. Nothing good ever came from being in a hurry. When I am in a hurry, my kids are in a hurry. Hurry causes stress.

For me, a by-product of multi-tasking is being in a hurry to do one more quick thing. I'm learning the value of sitting and making no plans. The blank "to do" list is a beautiful thing, like a clean slate or a freshly-washed load of laundry. It is an invitation to live un-hurried and just enjoy this moment! Living life fully-engaged and realizing there is time to do everything God has on my plate for today. Jesus was never in a hurry, right? He constantly did the next right "thing", not the next right "things".

I'll continue practicing this new, foreign-language. It won't be perfect or without the need for interpretation. My vocabulary will continue to expand as I explore this thing called single-tasking. Perhaps I will accomplish more by doing less.....or accomplish more of what is truly important anyway.

Time for breakfast with Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy. I'll notice the "everything" on my bagel --- poppyseeds, onion flakes, sesame seeds, and fluffy cream cheese. I'll note the spikey- hair on three bed-headed boys. We'll take our time and talk about what we want to do today. We might share a joke or two. I'm going to laugh at the answer because its funny and I really heard the answer. I was listening. Yes, I like this single-tasking stuff.

The multi-single-tasker of them all --

Thursday, May 24, 2012

True Greatness

Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy said good-bye to their Papa last week. My Dad-in-law "graduated" to Heaven. In his last days, this military veteran often spoke of "going on leave" soon. Yes, he did indeed leave this world, an extended leave in Heaven for eternity.

As I reflect over the last week and all the events that occurred, I am utterly amazed at God's faithfulness even to the end, down to every detail. His timing so perfect even in death. Rising higher than the feelings of sadness and mourning, are a great sense of pride and honor to have known my husband's father for 14 years.

He was a man of greatness. I learned this weekend while reading documents that he was 5 feet, 8.5 inches. I saw him much taller than that. Perhaps it was his character that was larger than life. Small in stature maybe, but great in heart and humility. Noble.

Some characteristics I admired about my father-in-law --- some I experienced first-hand and others I just learned in speaking to family recently.

1. He was a many of integrity. He was the type of man that would find a pen behind his ear on his drive home from work and turn around to return it.

2. He took care of my mother-in-law who suffered with cancer for 21 years WITHOUT a word of complaint. Not a mutter. This is amazing to me!

3. He had my husband, his 4th child, at the age of 51. Can you imagine? And, he raised him well.

4. He worked hard and persevered to care for his family in every way.

5. He had a delivery truck and among delivering "goods", he also used it to transport teenagers to church services and conventions.

6. He shared Christ with many people throughout his life.

7. He had an uncanny ability to answer a question with a question. This is clearly hereditary. Have you ever heard my husband do this? Hmmm.....

8. He served in World War II.

9. He loved ice cream. It is said that you aren't in the family unless you love ice cream. I fit in the family quite well and my boys are clearly their papas grandsons.

10. He was generous.

11. He often spoke of his "good life". His attitude determined his altitude. He did suffer hardship most certainly, yet his attitude said otherwise.

12. He was ready to meet Jesus. He had accepted Christ as his personal Saviour. He lived his life to attain eternity with Jesus.

13. He raised four wonderful children. My brothers-in-law and sister-in-law exemplify many of the traits above. My husband is a gift to me in more ways than I can count.

14. He was truly a man of greatness, leaving a lasting legacy.

Thank you, Papa, for living your life the way you did -- with uprightness, self control, and dignity. Thank you for leaving a legacy that we are proud to pass on to Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy. We too are ready to meet Jesus and we are thankful for a godly heritage.

It isn't good-bye, it is see you soon!

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

"Picky Nicky"

In the mid 70's "Nicole" was a popular name. For all the Nicoles' out there, we have all been called, "Picky Nicky" at some time or another. It rings true for me too.

Definition 1: To Pick - transitive verb choose something or somebody: to take, or decide to take, one or more things or people from a larger number.

There is power in picking. Power in being the pick-ee and power in being picked and power in not being picked.

My school years afforded many occassions for not being picked in physical education class. How I despised standing in a line waiting to be picked for a team. I hated being in the remaining bottom two and still not being chosen. I was added to the last team by default. Truthfully, I didn't add value to the team. I was not athletically inclined. Not being picked only added to my humiliation on any type of field or court.

Add 50 pounds to any junior high girl and not being picked spreads beyond gym class. Boyfriends. Dances. The whole nine yards. Not being picked = rejection.

Definition 2: To Pick - transitive verb undo something: to loosen, unfasten, or separate something into disconnected parts, especially something that was sewn together

The result of definition 1 is definition 2.

Today my "picky" thoughts are running wild after listening to a broadcast on foster care. My sister and her husband, after having two children of their own, made the decision to take babies into their home through foster care. A noble thing to do. In essence, they are "picking" children who may feel "unpicked". Each child is brought into their home and cared for and loved as their own. They are given the very best and an abundance of love! The message overflowing in their home is, "You are worth it! You are chosen! You are picked! You are not disconnected or separated. You are part of us."

In my own life, fast forward a few decades. Saturday I am running yet another 1/2 marathon. Most likely, my perseverence and motivation stems from enduring elementary gym class! I am absolutely cherished, chosen, and chased by my wonderful husband and three sons. The Lord has lavished His love on and in my life. I am chosen. I have been picked! In fact, the night before I got married my mom read me the storybook, "I'd Choose You." It is about an elephant (Mom, what were you thinking...after all that trauma, an elephant!? Just kidding.), that gets the last seat on the bus, the worst lunch, and the last one picked on the team. The mother elephant says over and over in the book, "If I could have anyone in all the world, I would still choose you." (Thanks mom!)

Now, do I have any choice but to be a pick-ee? I have the power to pick everyday by adding value to lives, by loving like Christ, and by lavishing grace on others.

Colossians 3:12 Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.

Signed -
Not Picky Nicky, but Pick-ee Nicky

Friday, April 20, 2012

Take the Stairs

Earlier this week, Daddy announced a book he is currently reading titled Take the Stairs. I have not read the book. However, I immediately formed an opinion of what I think it should be about. />
"Take the Stairs" has become a famous quote throughout the week. What does it mean to me? Don't take the elevator or the easy way or the pain free way. Take the stairs. Do the work. Make the effort. Give 100%.

Success comes from taking the stairs when any other way is easier. It is a combination of self-control, discipline, strength, perserverence, and tenacity. It strengthens instead of enables.

In boysturf language that means, give it your best the first time. Use your best handwriting. Complete the assignment. Get your pee in the toilet. If you get it out, put it away. Give LIFE your ALL.

In mothering, I can "take the stairs" by responding calmly instead of reacting. Preparing well for homeschooling. Managing my home, time, and money. Taking breaks so I don't break.
The concept is found over and over in the Bible, Colossions 3:17, "Whatever you it with all your heart." Even loving God isn't for wimps. Deutoronomy 6:5, "Love the Lord with ALL your heart, soul, mind, and strength." Philippians 3:14, "I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." We are talking about pressing on and taking the stairs. Doing LIFE and loving God with your whole heart.
Really, it is probably the other way around. When I love God with my whole heart, soul, mind and strength, I am much more apt to "take the stairs" in all I do and in my relationships. The temptation to take the elevator looms, but the reward is in taking the stairs.
Climbing on..... Mommontheboysturf

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Thirty. First.

The 31st of March marks Babyboy's 3rd Birthday. I am gearing myself up for this out-of-toddler-years promotion.

Babyboy is my baby. He will always be my Babyboy. I just don't like all these LASTS. By next year at this time I probably won't need to carry him through the parking lot. His stroller might have strolled its last stroll. All traces of pull-ups and sippy-cups will be extinct.

A radio podcast speaker that I heard recently said that he would pay $10,000 to go back and tuck his kids, now young adults, into bed one more time. Last weekend, when Babyboy was calling from his bed for the 4th or 5th time, Daddy said, "I'm saving myself $10,000." and headed upstairs. I didn't quite get it. "Remember, the $10,000? I want to tuck him in while I still can." Good point Daddio.

Instead of getting annoyed with my almost-three Babyboy, I am trying to cherish all that he brings. Tantrums when it is time to come inside. Spills when he wants to do things by himself. Occassional potty-accidents. Questions. Too many outfit changes every day. Yet,he is such a joy! An early-bird. An animal-cracker-muncher like his mommy. A Toby-Mac rap fan due to Oldest and Middleson. A smart little whip. A lover of the outdoors. A Matchbox zoomer. A Psalm 23 memorizer. Mommy's little helper. Daddy's biggest fan.

The 31st is fast approaching. I'm stalling like I have every mid-March since he was born. Today I'm savoring it all. I mowed the grass and he watched me from the window. I motioned for him to join me with his lawnmower and his smile was one of a winner of a million dollars. He followed me around the grass like a baby duckling.

Babyboy, in less than a week, you will be a grown-up three year old. Three year olds can do so many things! Today you are still my toddler-two-year-old and I plan to baby you as much as possible. I love you!

Monday, February 20, 2012

Miracle at the Mechanic

This post has absolutely nothing to do with my boys or my 30 minutes or the boysturf. Maybe more like daddyscarinthegarageturf.

Over the weekend we had a comical round of vehicles deciding not to start. We joked that our garage had some sort of virus causing dead batteries or something. That's why we buy the vehicles we do -- reliable with few issues. We keep them well maintained.

Saturday morning, 9:30, on our way to Middleson's 9:40 basketball game. The van sputtered. We made a mad dash to stash this family of five into Daddy's car including a quick carseat installation. Crank. Sputter. Nothing. Woudn't start. After several attempts we made it to the game. No problems coming home.

Daddy quickly jumped the van. Ready for the 1:10 basketball game for Oldest. After brunch with friends we repeat the above scenario. Every bit of it. The sputtering van, transfer of family and carseat.....and no start to car. Repeat. Drive to game just in time.

By Saturday at 4pm we have ZERO working vehicles. Nice neighbor takes Daddy and van battery to auto parts store. Bad battery. Stores fault. Exchange. Replaced. Working van.

The car issue was not so easily remedied. After ruling out that the battery was in good working order, talented Daddy continued his diagnosis. Starter. No big deal. Okay, it was a big deal. In this particular car the starter is located underneath the engine or that is how it has been explained to me.

This job is for a real mechanic not my can-do-just-about-anything husband.

Neighbors come to the rescue with a call for a tow truck. Tow man starts the car after several (X several more) times. We immediately deliver the car to the mechanic to begin his work today.

I choked when I heard the estimate today. We all did. It wasn't that the part was sooo astronomical. It was the many hours of labor. There goes my dreams for my new dishwasher and refrigerator. Out the car door they go. (Get it? Out the door. Out the car door. Ha. Ha.)

We, as a family, decided to rejoice in our trials (James 1) and trust in the Lord (Proverbs 3). We prayed for a miracle.

Mechanic calls hours into the morning "repair",while I paced and prayed for the quick, but wise/thorough mechanic. He tested the starter and it works perfectly. There is absolutely NO problem with the car. He started it twenty times.

"It's a miracle!" hubby said to the mechanic without receiving a reply.

$30 later our car is ready for pick-up.

Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy dance with excitement. "God healed our car!" Middleson wisely stated, "Mommy, it was a test of faith."

Today I am thanking God for answered prayer, childlike faith, and the miracle at the mechanic.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

LoVe DaY

Valentines Day 2012 captured a wonderful memory for me. I noticed a flurry of activity on the 13th. Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy constructing cards, whispering, and planning. I overlooked the spilled chocolate chips. I won an award for acting when I walked by Babyboy's room and pretended I didn't see paper scraps and hearts.

Daddy and I had our own share of secrets, devising a first-thing-in-the-morning Valentines Party complete with candles, decor, and pancakes. I cheezed it right up by wearing a heart-shaped bear pin that says, "Have a Beary Happy Valentines Day." It was given to me by my Grandma when I was a little girl. It isn't me, fashion speaking. But, I knew Babyboy would eat it up. He did. He loved it! The pink heart napkins, heart stickers, and red shiny hearts thrilled Babyboy to pieces.

MeeMaw, as if on cue, sent cards and games to be enjoyed by all smack in the middle of our festivities.

While partaking maple-syrup drenched pancakes each boy (sticky-fingered) retrieved the cards he had attempted to keep a secret.

I realized later in the afternoon how UNselfish my children had been. Love was in the air! Oldest was given a single piece of Beef Jerky. Knowing how much Daddy loves beef jerky and how rarely he eats it, Oldest saved it and insisted that Daddy eat it.

My pastor preached a sermon recently stating that HATE is not the opposite of LOVE. Selfishness is the opposite of love. It is true!

Yesterday was a proud mommy moment for me as I experienced selfless acts toward one another. THATS what Valentines Day is all about!

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Cameras Rolling

Lights! Action! Camera!
If my family was chosen for a reality tv show, this is the day I would swing open my doors for the cameras to roll. For all the days (or weeks or months) that aren't picture perfect (refer to last blog entry and notice its date and lack of entries since), this one is going down on the record.

Like a movie script, I, Mommy, was up early, fully prayed-up, jogged-out and ready to go.

The big boys also woke up early in the bestiest of moods eagerly desiring to start the school day.

Babyboy slept in, giving us a headstart on school.

By 10:18 we were wrapping up the last scene in our school day. Yes, 10:18 AM!! How? I am not sure. But, I taught with grace and patience and they learned, listened, and progressed.

A hot bubbly bath beckoned me by 10:30. A magazine in hand that I have longed to read for several months. All three boys playing trucks together peacefully.

A mannerly lunch included the two oldest boys preferring and serving one another. (This really does sound like a movie doesn't it?) And, get this, after lunch I cranked up the Toby Mac for a house-cleaning party. Without complaints we scrubbed the bathrooms, dusted, mopped, vacuumed, and grooved to Toby.

Imagine my surprise when I went to do laundry and realized I didn't have enough for a load. Nope! No reason to do laundry today.

Boy it sure is easy to smile on a day like today. Supermom. Superteacher. Superday. We are all well behaved and on our best behavior. THIS is what I want people to see. Truthfully, this isn't "most days". Candid Camera might be more appropriate....or maybe Barnum and Bailey's Circus.

The growth comes when my patience is challenged, my grace hyper-extended, and I can't do it on my own. Christ can enable me to choose joy when it doesn't flow freely like it is today. THIS is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it. He also made each day last week and he made tomorrow whatever it might bring.

For now, get the cameras rolling.....before its too late!

Friday, January 6, 2012

Resolutions.....going, going, GONE!

Resolution is my middle name. Love goals. Love New Year's Resolutions. As long as I can remember, on December 31, I grab my journal and scribble down my aspirations for the upcoming year. The thought of a blank page to start my year thrills and refreshes me.

Not this year.

Christmas was beautiful and packed with memories. However, my expectations for the week following Christmas included things like --
- Sleep In. (Didn't happen. My body has an early alarm clock.)
- Drink Coffee in bed. (Didn't happen since I was already up. See #1)
- Leisurely enjoy our days. (Broken arm, new tires, need I say more?)
- Enjoy the sites/sounds of the city. (Children's Hospital,Grismer Tire, & Costco don't count.)
- Somehow refresh and renew (not a realistic expectation when Babyboy has a broken arm and needs to potty 10 X per night = lack of sleep)

I complainingly crossed the starting Line of 2012 in rebellion. I didn't make my resolutions and couldn't stand to be around my own attitude. I was in denial that my year wasn't starting the way I wanted. Fresh. It felt old and tainted by 12:01 AM.

Hubby was out of town. Van wouldn't start. Homeschooling started. Appointments. I just wasn't in the mood to pretend I had a perfectly white, clean slate to start my year. I didn't have the opportunity to ease into the year. It started like the jolt of jumper cables. (PROUD of myself for using jumper cables on the van for the first time though.)

By January 2 or 3, I made a few last-minute, little-enthusiasm types of typical resolutions made my 99% of Americans. And, this is not my track record. I am someone who actually attains and sticks with my resolutions!
- Eat only whole foods for a week (Got into an off-brand snack mix filled with artificial colors and flavors by Tuesday night.)
- No sugar for one week (Nutella and animal crackers. Dangerous combo.)
- Mother with gentleness ("Get upstairs in your bed right now!!")
- Homeschool peacefully (This was the most challenging week of schooling ever.)
- Make one new recipe a week (Um. Last night I mixed two kinds of pasta in the macaroni and cheese. Does that count?)
- Continue the process of becoming like Christ (Wow, this is hard.)

I've been fighting 2012 since it began. But I realized today it perfectly fits with my final resolution above, even if it was half-hearted and habitual. God is continually pulling me out of my comfort, routine, goals, and "messing me up" in order to see more of Him. I can ONLY finish this year with Him. My own resolve will never bring victory or peace or true joy.

So, here it is six days into the year and I finally decided to run with it.

2012 wait for me......Here I come....better late than never!