Yesterday was one of those super challenging days as a mom -- the most testing in my 8 years of motherhood I think. I know they are bound to happen from time to time, but I wasn't expecting it. There were no warning signs.
Quite the contrary actually.
The day started out quite wonderfully. I read my Bible and had a great time of prayer. I felt strong, refreshed, and prepared for the day ahead.
The day unraveled life an afghan.
-The rain prevented me from my anticipated run.
-My Plan B workout dvd wouldn't run.
-Middleson woke up far too early.
-All 3 sons quarreled and fought and yelled and hit. Even newcomer Jace was swinging his arms in battle. Really? What in the world is going on?
-One un-named son intentionally did something to the computer during school that required a call to tech support and a much-too-long delay in school.
-My afternoon bath (since I didn't get a shower) to pull-myself-together was filled with COLD water.
My reaction to all of the above was less than ideal. Afterall, it was Good Friday. In my mind I conjured up a peaceful day of reflecting on the death of Jesus. Of all days, I should have been on my best behavior on Good Friday, right?
By late afternoon, weary and battled, I made an attempt to reign in my soldiers. We sat together reading the account of what happened to Jesus on Good Friday. We spent our entire day in turmoil -- yuck. Gross. I felt guilty and condemned. The day felt wasted.
Yet, the message of the cross was never clearer. I sin. I fall short. My sin was before me, but so was my Savior! I came face to face with my inadequacies and my feeble attempts at "getting it right".
All of my sins were nailed to the cross. I bear them no more!
His mercy and grace cover me. His love never changes. He loves me the same when I have on my new Easter dress and black shiny shoes on my way to church as he did yesterday in my imperfect mothering. He died that I might live.
He brings hope to a bad mom on Good Friday.
Mommyontheboysturf with her three sons
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Floor-LESS. Joy-FULL!
So a tiny itty bitty H.I.P. (short for Home Improvement Project) turned into stretched out H.I.PS. (That would be Home Improvement ProjectS.)
Since the day we found our beloved home, I was not in love with the white linoleum floors. Each crumb reacted like bleach on white pants. Yet, it was hard to justify replacing them when the boys were galloping to and fro day after day. To our knowledge the previous owners had grown children. Therefore,the carpet was lusious and the linoleum pristine. Fast forward 6 years and 3 boys later. Even with a Dyson-loving caretaker and a "no shoes" rule, the carpet and linoleum had seen their better years and were begging us to let them rest.
"It would make a lot of sense to paint while the baseboards are off." I said to myself and then later to my husband who loathes painting. On a whim, I picked out a not-so-practical paint color which goes against my practical unwhimmish nature. It was a good move. I really feel like I am living on the edge with my "icy aqua" walls and buttery yellow and red accents. There is even a floral printed rug for the first time in over a decade. I went a little overboard during the "victorian rose" era of decorating inthe early 90's and never wanted anything floral in my home...until now...and I promise to keep it simple.
The entire family joined in the linoleum removal. It was really fun for the first 5 minutes or so. I didn't realize it was stapled with thousands of staples to the sub floor. Being the perfectionist that I am, I wanted each one removed. After a few blisters and many hours, the hammers came out. For three days we (and I mean WE -- Daddy, Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy with his toy hammer)hammered down staples until the floor was flush and ready to be covered with an upgraded surface.
Surprise! We never knew water was seeping into our home under the patio door. Removing the linoleum led to the discovery -- and that was a good thing as the damage was minimal and repairable. Twelve or so hours later, we (rather husband and helper) got over that bump in the road and back on our flooring journey.
Many many hours of prepping, moving, hauling and wearing shoes in the house to avoid staple injuries, we had finally arrived. Installation day was upon us. Whoo Hoo. We had been encouraged by many that it would be a "quick, half-day" job. Umm. Three days. Three long days at least with a toilet re-do sandwiched in the middle.
Oh,how thankful I am for the new floors. I like to call the shade, "toast-crumb oak" since all the crumbs are camoflauged. I'll save hours of time and kilowatts of energy since my Dyson won't need to show himself quite so often. The floors will pay for themselves in no time at all.
With fresh paint and new floors, its time to get outside for the Y.I.P. You got it -- yard improvement projects. At least there won't be any staples to remove.
Since the day we found our beloved home, I was not in love with the white linoleum floors. Each crumb reacted like bleach on white pants. Yet, it was hard to justify replacing them when the boys were galloping to and fro day after day. To our knowledge the previous owners had grown children. Therefore,the carpet was lusious and the linoleum pristine. Fast forward 6 years and 3 boys later. Even with a Dyson-loving caretaker and a "no shoes" rule, the carpet and linoleum had seen their better years and were begging us to let them rest.
"It would make a lot of sense to paint while the baseboards are off." I said to myself and then later to my husband who loathes painting. On a whim, I picked out a not-so-practical paint color which goes against my practical unwhimmish nature. It was a good move. I really feel like I am living on the edge with my "icy aqua" walls and buttery yellow and red accents. There is even a floral printed rug for the first time in over a decade. I went a little overboard during the "victorian rose" era of decorating inthe early 90's and never wanted anything floral in my home...until now...and I promise to keep it simple.
The entire family joined in the linoleum removal. It was really fun for the first 5 minutes or so. I didn't realize it was stapled with thousands of staples to the sub floor. Being the perfectionist that I am, I wanted each one removed. After a few blisters and many hours, the hammers came out. For three days we (and I mean WE -- Daddy, Oldest, Middleson, and Babyboy with his toy hammer)hammered down staples until the floor was flush and ready to be covered with an upgraded surface.
Surprise! We never knew water was seeping into our home under the patio door. Removing the linoleum led to the discovery -- and that was a good thing as the damage was minimal and repairable. Twelve or so hours later, we (rather husband and helper) got over that bump in the road and back on our flooring journey.
Many many hours of prepping, moving, hauling and wearing shoes in the house to avoid staple injuries, we had finally arrived. Installation day was upon us. Whoo Hoo. We had been encouraged by many that it would be a "quick, half-day" job. Umm. Three days. Three long days at least with a toilet re-do sandwiched in the middle.
Oh,how thankful I am for the new floors. I like to call the shade, "toast-crumb oak" since all the crumbs are camoflauged. I'll save hours of time and kilowatts of energy since my Dyson won't need to show himself quite so often. The floors will pay for themselves in no time at all.
With fresh paint and new floors, its time to get outside for the Y.I.P. You got it -- yard improvement projects. At least there won't be any staples to remove.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Toddlerboy.
One of my all-time, most-precious moments was when Oldest and Middleson met Babyboy for the first time. I left the house early on March 31 with a rounded belly. A few hours later Babyboy had arrived and the boys were astonished that the belly bump turned into a bundle of baby boy. As the nurse cleaned up our fresh baby, Middleson growled with his meanest face, "Don't hurt my new baby!" Since that day the big boys are still Babyboy's biggest fans, protectors, and friends! Even after two years there is a moment of excitement as soon as Babyboy's voice is heard each morning and the big boys race upstairs to greet him. He is doted on like the day he came home from the hospital. I can still hear the sweet homemade lullaby's Big brothers sang when Babyboy cried. Oldest would sit for hours (well, half-hours anyway) with Babyboy laying on him. Now he carries him on his back and chases him around the house. Middleson invites him to play cars and often marvels that "he is a real boy now". The camera sits ready to capture every moment -- Oldest and Middleson are the "first time" parents that deem every moment picture worthy.
How sappy of me to blog and cry and reminisce. I just didn't think babyhood would slip through my fingers so quickly the third time around. I savored the pregnancy, his delivery, and his infancy. I treasured all the firsts that have now become lasts. Still the time flew, the seasons changed, and suddenly I have a two year old.
This year will be full of milestones I know. I've walked Two-Year-Old Road two times before -- an ever expanding vocabulary, potty-training, and greater independence. Goodbye to sippy cups, the highchair, the crib, and that head of wispy fine blonde baby hair!
Happy Birthday precious Babyboy! Mommy loves you.
P.S. Oldest and Middleson just arrived to "comfort" me. "Mommy, you don't become a child until your six years old. So don't worry, he is still a baby." Sounds good. He can still hold "Babyboy" status for a few more years.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Addition and Subtraction
Middleson is in the middle of a story problem unit in math. He has to decide if he should solve a particular problem through addition or subtraction.
For some unknown reason, his lesson reminded me of my morning at MOPS (Mothers of Pre-schoolers) yesterday. It was a valuable time of laughing, talking, praying, cake-decorating, bread making, recipe collecting, and more. I left with more than (> greater than) I arrived -- a mini bottle of lotion, dozens of recipes, a new journal, and a refreshed outlook on my week.
As I reflected on the meeting and all that I took away (- subtract) I realized I had the opportunity to tweak my addition skills (+ plus) too. A friend approached me for advice -- always an honor. Another friend told me I had been an encouragement to her which in turn encouraged me right back (hmmm maybe that deserves an = sign). I held a little baby whose mommy needed one more set of hands (multiplication X). I have been in that predicament more times than I care to count (1,2,3,..).
Yes, I left feeling full, but I was also able to give something away!
Life is about adding and subtracting. Balance. Giving and receiving.
As a mom, I am always doing math -- my words, actions, and looks can add or subtract from the very spirit of my children. I am reminded constantly that I am either training them up or tearing them down. The Bible instructs me to "train them UP". Even when I am disciplining the three boys, it should always build them UP! How easy it is to do the reverse. I need to calculate my responses accurately.
My never-ending goal-setting personality is up for a challenge. I am on the lookout for opportunities to add value to the lives' of the people I am around. I encouraged Oldest and Middleson to join in too!
In God's math class, there are no less-than <'s. We are all equal = in Christ with a + positive value that we cannot begin to fathom.
Real life story problems. Just like Middleson, I need to ask, "Should I add or subtract?" Math class is life long isn't it?
For some unknown reason, his lesson reminded me of my morning at MOPS (Mothers of Pre-schoolers) yesterday. It was a valuable time of laughing, talking, praying, cake-decorating, bread making, recipe collecting, and more. I left with more than (> greater than) I arrived -- a mini bottle of lotion, dozens of recipes, a new journal, and a refreshed outlook on my week.
As I reflected on the meeting and all that I took away (- subtract) I realized I had the opportunity to tweak my addition skills (+ plus) too. A friend approached me for advice -- always an honor. Another friend told me I had been an encouragement to her which in turn encouraged me right back (hmmm maybe that deserves an = sign). I held a little baby whose mommy needed one more set of hands (multiplication X). I have been in that predicament more times than I care to count (1,2,3,..).
Yes, I left feeling full, but I was also able to give something away!
Life is about adding and subtracting. Balance. Giving and receiving.
As a mom, I am always doing math -- my words, actions, and looks can add or subtract from the very spirit of my children. I am reminded constantly that I am either training them up or tearing them down. The Bible instructs me to "train them UP". Even when I am disciplining the three boys, it should always build them UP! How easy it is to do the reverse. I need to calculate my responses accurately.
My never-ending goal-setting personality is up for a challenge. I am on the lookout for opportunities to add value to the lives' of the people I am around. I encouraged Oldest and Middleson to join in too!
In God's math class, there are no less-than <'s. We are all equal = in Christ with a + positive value that we cannot begin to fathom.
Real life story problems. Just like Middleson, I need to ask, "Should I add or subtract?" Math class is life long isn't it?
Thursday, February 24, 2011
On Their Turf
Today my post goes back to the "root" purpose of starting this blog. I desired to keep myself accountable to spending good quality time doing whatever my boys wanted to do. In other words, an open ended, "What do you want to do with mommy?"
The experiment was/is a success. I still periodically have people ask if I am still spending time on my boys turf. It is great motivation to keep going!
Homeschooling does provide the opportunity to have one on one time with each child. But, really, homeschooling is time on MY turf. I am dictating what we do and when we do it. However, by the time school is over we usually end up on opposite ends of the house! I usually want alone time, while the boys want time to play.
On Tuesday night I had the rare occassion to spend time alone with Babyboy. At 22 months he finally got to touch play-doh. He has carried around tubs of play-doh countless times. I didn't have the courage to introduce him to the substance fearing I'd be picking up play-doh remnants every day after our school hours. Oldest and Middleson are quite able to pick up after themselves. Amazingly, Babyboy is content with the containers and really doesn't like to squish it, touch it, or mold it.
Today after school I asked the big boys what they wanted to do. Basketball was the activity of choice. Two big boys against mommy. It felt good to be back on their turf again.
Now, as I blog, they are contentedly Lego-ing in the basement. Happy kids = Happy mom. Spending time with them really is an investment.
We journey on....
The experiment was/is a success. I still periodically have people ask if I am still spending time on my boys turf. It is great motivation to keep going!
Homeschooling does provide the opportunity to have one on one time with each child. But, really, homeschooling is time on MY turf. I am dictating what we do and when we do it. However, by the time school is over we usually end up on opposite ends of the house! I usually want alone time, while the boys want time to play.
On Tuesday night I had the rare occassion to spend time alone with Babyboy. At 22 months he finally got to touch play-doh. He has carried around tubs of play-doh countless times. I didn't have the courage to introduce him to the substance fearing I'd be picking up play-doh remnants every day after our school hours. Oldest and Middleson are quite able to pick up after themselves. Amazingly, Babyboy is content with the containers and really doesn't like to squish it, touch it, or mold it.
Today after school I asked the big boys what they wanted to do. Basketball was the activity of choice. Two big boys against mommy. It felt good to be back on their turf again.
Now, as I blog, they are contentedly Lego-ing in the basement. Happy kids = Happy mom. Spending time with them really is an investment.
We journey on....
Friday, February 18, 2011
Rest
It appears my last few blog posts have a common theme -- sit. wait. rest.
This is a tough one for me. The journey started several years ago. I have often used our travel time in the van as a time to memorize Bible verses or put them to song. On this particular day, we were reciting The 10 Commandments from Exodus 20. Verse 8 in this preschool-friendly version, said, "Rest on the Lord's Day". When I was a child I memorized, "Remember the Sabbath Day by keeping it Holy." I have lived my entire life going to church on Sunday. In that regard, it is a "special" day. But, Oldest asked, "Mommy, what does it mean to rest on the Lord's Day?" Rest? Really. I don't rest any day of the week. How can a mother rest? I wanted to say something like, "Oh, back then they had to rest on church day" or "That is part of the OLD Testament and now we don't have to do that." But, I wouldn't say that regarding the commandments that prohibit stealing or killing or committing adultry...or any of them for that matter. It is true, we are not under the Old Testament Law, but really it is listed with some big no's no's. I certainly don't equate killing someone with not-resting on the Lord's day.
In Genesis, after six days of creation it says, "By the seventh day, God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done."
I began to study what the Sabbath meant and what it means for me today. I had to wrestle with the concept that the word "sabbath" can't be separated from "rest".
A respected preacher I heard defined the Sabbath this way -- resting on the Sabbath means not producing. For some, it can't be a particular day -- like Sunday -- but it is ONE day out of SEVEN dedicated to worshipping God and ceasing to produce. It is trusting that when I stop producing, God can continue to produce on my behalf. It takes faith and trust to truly rest.
In prayer, I began to ask God how I could honor Him on the Sabbath. It isn't about a set of black and white rules of what can and can't be done. It is about the spirit of honoring the Lord.
As a mom, my weeks are busy, specifically with homeschooling my children. Saturday's are filled with sports and laundry and many other things. Sunday has become a bonus day. After church, I love to tackle a few things to make my week go a little smoother. If I can go to bed on Sunday night with the pantry stocked, dishwasher unloaded, laundry done, and school prepped, I am ready for the week. How can I possibly not produce on the Lord's Day -- all of my days are my days! Can I give one up?
I have to say, last week the Lord challenged me and answered the prayer I prayed when I asked how I could honor the Sabbath. I experienced a series of events that sound made-up!! I have been journaling daily and watching the week progress.....tickled at God's goodness! When I ceased to produce, God literally produced for me...and the week isn't even over.
Once again, I appreciate your feedback, comments, and private e-mails. I am still in the process of truly comprehending what "Honoring the Sabbath" means. How do you incorporate it into your life?
This is a tough one for me. The journey started several years ago. I have often used our travel time in the van as a time to memorize Bible verses or put them to song. On this particular day, we were reciting The 10 Commandments from Exodus 20. Verse 8 in this preschool-friendly version, said, "Rest on the Lord's Day". When I was a child I memorized, "Remember the Sabbath Day by keeping it Holy." I have lived my entire life going to church on Sunday. In that regard, it is a "special" day. But, Oldest asked, "Mommy, what does it mean to rest on the Lord's Day?" Rest? Really. I don't rest any day of the week. How can a mother rest? I wanted to say something like, "Oh, back then they had to rest on church day" or "That is part of the OLD Testament and now we don't have to do that." But, I wouldn't say that regarding the commandments that prohibit stealing or killing or committing adultry...or any of them for that matter. It is true, we are not under the Old Testament Law, but really it is listed with some big no's no's. I certainly don't equate killing someone with not-resting on the Lord's day.
In Genesis, after six days of creation it says, "By the seventh day, God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done."
I began to study what the Sabbath meant and what it means for me today. I had to wrestle with the concept that the word "sabbath" can't be separated from "rest".
A respected preacher I heard defined the Sabbath this way -- resting on the Sabbath means not producing. For some, it can't be a particular day -- like Sunday -- but it is ONE day out of SEVEN dedicated to worshipping God and ceasing to produce. It is trusting that when I stop producing, God can continue to produce on my behalf. It takes faith and trust to truly rest.
In prayer, I began to ask God how I could honor Him on the Sabbath. It isn't about a set of black and white rules of what can and can't be done. It is about the spirit of honoring the Lord.
As a mom, my weeks are busy, specifically with homeschooling my children. Saturday's are filled with sports and laundry and many other things. Sunday has become a bonus day. After church, I love to tackle a few things to make my week go a little smoother. If I can go to bed on Sunday night with the pantry stocked, dishwasher unloaded, laundry done, and school prepped, I am ready for the week. How can I possibly not produce on the Lord's Day -- all of my days are my days! Can I give one up?
I have to say, last week the Lord challenged me and answered the prayer I prayed when I asked how I could honor the Sabbath. I experienced a series of events that sound made-up!! I have been journaling daily and watching the week progress.....tickled at God's goodness! When I ceased to produce, God literally produced for me...and the week isn't even over.
Once again, I appreciate your feedback, comments, and private e-mails. I am still in the process of truly comprehending what "Honoring the Sabbath" means. How do you incorporate it into your life?
Friday, February 11, 2011
Waiting.
Waiting. It feels long and drawn out. If it isn't long, it doesn't feel like waiting does it? I don't wait at a green light. I wait at a red light. I have to come to a stand still or a complete stop. It isn't a comma or a dash. It is a period. A long period, not knowing how long the wait will last.
"Wait a minute. Just wait! Wait just a second!!"
Yesterday, a radio broadcast reminded its listeners of the instant society we live in. Beyond microwaved and fast food, we have scheduled early baby inductions, fast-dry nail polish, and instant oatmeal (is 5 minutes for the regular too long?). Children are encouraged to grow up quickly by the way they dress and even academically! Kindergarten is now more like first or second grade. The preschool years are dedicated to learning over playing and just being a kid. (As a homeschooling mom, I am NOT anti-education.)
This morning I read Psalm 40. It led me to study the words "wait", "waiting", and "waited" in the Bible. I even waited to post this blog because I am still in the process of mulling this over. There may be a part II. Just wait and see.
I found this rather humorous -- look at the Psalmist's words:
vs. 1 "I did not give up waiting for the Lord."
vs. 13 "O Lord Hurry...."
vs. 17 "Oh my God, do not wait!"
I chuckled as I read the passage because it hit so close to home! Sure Lord, I will wait. Okay, hurry up! I need an answer now!
Time is often needed to bring optimal results. A pregnancy is 40 weeks. Bread takes time to rise and cheese takes time to age. People are no different. The Bible is full of characters who required time on the potters wheel before they were used. That often came through waiting.
Waiting strengthens our spiritual muscles. I call it WAIT Lifting! Psalm 27 says, "Wait for the Lord. Be strong. Let your heart be strong. Yes wait for the Lord." Is there anything more difficult than needing answers, relief, understanding, or direction and being forced to wait?
I can think of several poor decisions I would have made had I NOT waited! Being hasty is foolish. I can also think of decisions I made in haste that I regret.
As I pondered the Bible's definition of "wait", I came to the conclusion that it doesn't include worry. Wait and worry should not co-exist. Waiting is a time to trust and be strong rather than anxiety and worry until the answer comes.
With no conclusive end to this study, I would love to hear your thoughts on waiting.
Now, I am waiting on you.
"Wait a minute. Just wait! Wait just a second!!"
Yesterday, a radio broadcast reminded its listeners of the instant society we live in. Beyond microwaved and fast food, we have scheduled early baby inductions, fast-dry nail polish, and instant oatmeal (is 5 minutes for the regular too long?). Children are encouraged to grow up quickly by the way they dress and even academically! Kindergarten is now more like first or second grade. The preschool years are dedicated to learning over playing and just being a kid. (As a homeschooling mom, I am NOT anti-education.)
This morning I read Psalm 40. It led me to study the words "wait", "waiting", and "waited" in the Bible. I even waited to post this blog because I am still in the process of mulling this over. There may be a part II. Just wait and see.
I found this rather humorous -- look at the Psalmist's words:
vs. 1 "I did not give up waiting for the Lord."
vs. 13 "O Lord Hurry...."
vs. 17 "Oh my God, do not wait!"
I chuckled as I read the passage because it hit so close to home! Sure Lord, I will wait. Okay, hurry up! I need an answer now!
Time is often needed to bring optimal results. A pregnancy is 40 weeks. Bread takes time to rise and cheese takes time to age. People are no different. The Bible is full of characters who required time on the potters wheel before they were used. That often came through waiting.
Waiting strengthens our spiritual muscles. I call it WAIT Lifting! Psalm 27 says, "Wait for the Lord. Be strong. Let your heart be strong. Yes wait for the Lord." Is there anything more difficult than needing answers, relief, understanding, or direction and being forced to wait?
I can think of several poor decisions I would have made had I NOT waited! Being hasty is foolish. I can also think of decisions I made in haste that I regret.
As I pondered the Bible's definition of "wait", I came to the conclusion that it doesn't include worry. Wait and worry should not co-exist. Waiting is a time to trust and be strong rather than anxiety and worry until the answer comes.
With no conclusive end to this study, I would love to hear your thoughts on waiting.
Now, I am waiting on you.
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