Lessons for the Week[ends]

*Before you scramble around to put on a bra and sweatshirt so you can go outside to clean up the toys in the yard [that you should have cleaned up yesterday], make sure the mowers are actually in your yard and not next door. Because that's a lot of wasted energy for nothing. Although, I guess now I don't have to clean up the yard later.

*Being depressed about your own lack of close friends is one thing; fabricating the fear that your children won't have close friends is a whole new level of sad. And terrifying. And pointless. But no less real.

*Alcohol and I don't really get along anymore. We haven't for a while, but I need to admit it out loud. I'm getting too old for his antics.




 Today I am going to start immersing myself in the Word. I have been neglecting it for months for various reasons, all of which seemed legitimate, but which I think have been distracting me from feeding my spirit. Instead of taking a shower before Elijah's swim lessons this morning, I choose to sit down with my Bible. Maybe I won't get to read much, but it's worth a shot.

We stayed out late this weekend. Friday night was Wrigley's birthday party, which was wonderful. We went mini-bowling and then to Pie in the Sky for pizza. We didn't even leave the party until 9 p.m., so the boys were already tired for the weekend. Then last night we went to life group at 4:30 and followed it up with the young adults gathering at the Wilchers' house. We didn't leave there until 8:30 or so, then stopped for gas, so the boys went to bed late again. Wriston has been crying all morning out of sheer exhaustion. Elijah has been surprisingly happy, but I think it'll catch up to us after he exhausts himself at swim lessons. It's only 30 minutes long, but I think it will tire out his little brain. He loves the water, though, so I'm hoping this will be worthwhile and he'll gain some good skills. Let's just hope he can keep his hands to himself while he's in the water.

This week starts our real summer schedule: pool time (lessons are just this week), fun church events (dinner and a movie in the building this Wednesday), music class on Fridays, and occasional playgroups (the splash pad downtown this week). I'm liking not having to rush around to get Elijah to school, but I'm wondering if he'll tire of just me at some point. I guess there's only time will tell. I foresee a lot of Cars and Team Umizoomi in my next two months.

Lessons for the Week

This world. This one here? Whew. Is it sad. And sometimes there is nothing else to say except that we long for the day when we can be in the world that is the way God always intended. This is not the way it was supposed to be. "For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies" (Romans 8:22-23).

I am not special. I'm not. And that's okay. I am special to God, and He loves and appreciates me for my purpose, whatever that may be (I don't think I have that figured out yet). But I am not an extraordinary human. It is a daily line in my head that I repeat over and over -- I am not special.

BUT. But. I am important, and I am necessary in the larger story in which I choose to live. And I am loved. Isn't that all I need?

Regardless of how much I may want it, not everyone will be my friend. Nor does everyone want to be my friend. Isn't that silly? They don't even know how awesome I am. :) But truly, I am trying to come to terms with the fact that I will not (and cannot) be friends with everyone. And even if I think I have room in my life and want to be there for someone, they don't necessarily need or want me. And that's okay too. Because when I feel the desire to be a friend to someone, I can pray for them and be a friend who asks for nothing in return. And - BONUS - they don't even have to know I'm their friend. I can just be the creepy girl who stares at (and prays for) them.

Lessons for the Week have gotten a little depressing. Maybe it's all this "self-reflection" and "growing" I've been doing. Gross. I should stop that.

I am sick of baby food. I am sick of buying it, of serving it, of wiping it up. See, there's this sweet spot with babies where they want to start eating as much finger food as possible. If you take advantage of that sweet spot, they transition easily and naturally to table food. BUT, if you get lazy with your second kid and that sweet spot hits on vacation, and you keep feeding him baby food because that's what you have, you may be screwed. Like me and Wriston. So I need to stop being so lazy and start figuring out more table food to feed him that doesn't include hot dogs, chicken nuggets, or peanut butter. Because I have enough mommy guilt about Elijah's diet already.

You cannot heat milk in a teapot. Unless you're ready to pick it up right before the whistle blows. Otherwise, you'll end up with boiling milk all over your stove and slightly over-chocolate'd hot chocolate because you don't have enough milk left.

Don't try to force memories. Just don't. Because then you'll end up having two super-stressed parents, an exhausted toddler, three broken ornaments, and a happy, happy baby crawling away with things off the tree. Next year I'm just going to put everything on but one ornament for each boy. And I'm going to do it all while they're asleep.

Morsels of Wisdom

I've been asking God for wisdom. I have a long way to go, and there are days that I have to remind myself constantly to pray, and even then I can't find the words. Or I can't keep my focus long enough to form a "real" prayer. But these little nuggets have stuck with me recently.

"Pain then, if one could have faith in something greater than himself, might be a path to experiencing a meaning beyond the false gratification of personal comfort." (page 196)

"Job found contentment and even joy, outside the context of comfort, health or stability. He understood the story was not about him, and he cared more about the story than he did about himself." (197)

I read Donald Miller's book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. Um, yeah. It's exactly what I needed to read, just when I needed to read it. There are many more sentences that I wanted to write across my forehead so I wouldn't forget them, but I'll settle for writing a couple here instead. I hope I can live a better story.

"If your actions are causing someone - anyone - to walk on eggshells, the problem is not them. It's you."

I am striving to see my own sin, to create the best version of myself in Him, not only for the betterment of my life but for my kids' lives, as well. They will use what I show them to shape not only their own world views but their future relationships, with people and, more importantly, with God. No pressure, right? But that's why I must live a better story, why it's so important to focus on and improve myself. Some of the things I do every day are not good. They're selfish and, occasionally, rather detrimental. So I need to make sure that my actions are kind, welcoming, and joyful, and that I am conscious of all others in my sphere. Michael calls me considerate to a fault, but I don't really think that's possible. It's how I feel called to be.

"May our wrong days help us appreciate our right days."

Today has not been great. Yesterday was worse. Nothing truly bad has happened; everyone is just too tired and out of sorts. I'm low on patience, Elijah is low on listening ability, Michael is low on availability, and Wriston is low on communication. It's just one of those weeks, and it's only Tuesday. But when I texted a friend to vent a little of my frustration, she reminded me that tomorrow everyone and everything will be a little different. Everyone will be fresh, we'll all [hopefully] be a little smarter, and we will all have today to remind us how bad it could be. And I hope I can appreciate our good days more instead of just letting that be the status quo. Which leads nicely into:

"Manage your expectations."

I had really [REALLY] bad postpartum depression this Spring and Summer. I started seeing a counselor, and one of the first things she talked to me about was managing my expectations. It is truly impossible for me to have and/or do it all. Maybe someone else could - and that's great for them. But I am average. And I need to be okay with that. Then Michael and I started a marriage class at church, and the first lesson was all about - surprise! - managing your expectations. So I'm doing my best. I will not have the most friends, the cleanest house, the most well-behaved and good-looking children, the best interior design, the best marriage, etc., etc., etc. I just won't. But I can be the best friend with access to a pool. Or the best at wrestling with Elijah. And literally the ONLY one who can feed Wriston milk. And even if that's all I'm good at (and I really hope it's not), it's okay. I have a purpose in a much bigger story than I can even comprehend. And someday, when I stop being average and sit with my Father as His beloved child, none of this will even be a passing thought.

Lessons for the Week

* Every night I go to bed thinking there is no way I can be more uncomfortable than I already am. And the next morning I wake up wrong.

* If your 2-year-old has a cold and you want people to think you're killing him deliberately, try to use the bulb syringe on his nose. He will scream bloody murder, then, when you're finished, sob into your shoulder to really impart the drama of the situation.

* My child is much more aware than we think. And cookies cannot solve everything, as I might hope.

* Michael, though he says he's a Scrooge, is really helpful with Christmas decorations when he needs to be. I unpacked all the ornaments (while sitting), and he placed every single one on the tree. AND he put up a little tree on the front porch and decorated it with Elijah. I might be converting him after all.

* Getting all the Christmas shopping done is much easier than getting the motivation to wrap them.

There are more, but I can't think of them right now. I'll add them later when my pregnant brain relaxes and can think again.

Lessons for the Week

* Never, under any circumstances, let Elijah have your milkshake while you're driving. He will make it his own and do everything in his power to keep you from getting it back, which he thinks is hilarious. He will then drink half of it, which will come back to haunt you the next morning in a way that is unfair to everyone involved.

* 32 weeks pregnant is the cut-off for running after dogs when they escape from the back yard. This especially applies to sprinting after someone else's dog (and the loooong walk back up the hill to the house afterward) that you're watching for a couple weeks.

* I will never have dogs again.

* A pedicure followed by a 90-minute massage might be the greatest evening I have had in a long time (sorry, Michael).

* When feeling any kind of "off" while pregnant, a glass of water and a 15-minute rest will fix just about anything.

* "Mourning with those who mourn" takes on a whole new meaning when you're rife with hormones. Please pray for a family at our church that is having an extremely hard time with the attachment period after adopting a little girl from Ethiopia. I cannot get them off my mind, and I just ache thinking about the difficulties of what they're going through, none of which I can even imagine.

* My friend Emily is a decorating genius, and thanks to her we have made a huge dent in not looking like squatters in the new house. I didn't take any before pictures (because I'm terrible at things like that), but I'll try really hard to get some afters. And without her help, I wouldn't have found and purchased Naomi Judd's kitchen table and chairs, which just happen to match my kitchen perfectly. But that's a story for another time.

* The joy my child exudes about life is enough for me to live on.


Updated:
* I am only 32 weeks pregnant. All week long I have been thinking and telling people that I'm 33 weeks. I will blame it on pregnancy brain, but really, I think I'm just more ready than I think I am.

Lessons for Today

1. My child watches too much t.v. When he spends the half of play group asking for "Toodles," you know it's too much. I say this as he stands watching an episode of "Super Why!", which is his new favorite show. Fixing this is much easier on days that aren't overcast, cold, and generally depressing in every way.

2. My husband is almost totally unflappable. This is one of his most endearing qualities to me, and also one of the most astounding. I can be FREAKING OUT about a surprise and he will be just going about his business as if he always knew it would happen. Because, let's be honest here, he probably did.

3. Never underestimate the power of food. I've never been a big cook, not for lack of ability (I'm enough of a perfectionist to follow recipes well), but for lack of need. Michael loves to cook, so I never had to. But I've started this year, and I started exactly at a time when it's needed most, not only for friends in our life group who just had babies, but for friends who can't be near when their families need help. Sometimes I just wish there were more I could do than just cook and pray.

4. Sometimes, no matter how old you are, you just want a hug from your mom.