You're Not Alone

I didn’t write this post… in fact, I don’t even know the author, but I thought it was so good that it had to be shared.  If you’d like to visit the website from where I pulled this article, click HERE. 

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

ARTICLE BEGINS BELOW

I am in a season of my life right now where I feel bone-tired almost all of the time. Ragged, how-am-I-going-to-make-it-to-the-end-of-the-day, eyes burning exhausted.

I have three boys ages 5 and under. I'm not complaining about that. Well, maybe I am a little bit. But I know that there are people who would give anything for a house full of laughter and chaos. I was that person for years and years; the pain of infertility is stabbing and throbbing and constant. I remember allowing hope to rise and then seeing it crash all around me, month after month, for seven years. I am working on another post about infertility that will come at a later date.

But right now, in my actual life, I have three boys ages 5 and under. There are many moments where they are utterly delightful, like last week, when Isaac told my sister-in-law that, "My daddy has hair all over." Or when Elijah put a green washcloth over his chin and cheeks, and proudly declared, "Daddy! I have a beard just like you!" Or when Ben sneaks downstairs in the morning before the other boys do, smiles at me, and says, "Daddy and Ben time."

But there are also many moments when I have no idea how I'm going to make it until their bedtime. The constant demands, the needs and the fighting are fingernails across the chalkboard every single day.

One of my children is for sure going to be the next Steve Jobs. I now have immense empathy for his parents. He has a precise vision of what he wants -- exactly that way and no other way. Sometimes, it's the way his plate needs to be centered exactly to his chair, or how his socks go on, or exactly how the picture of the pink dolphin needs to look -- with brave eyes, not sad eyes, daddy! He is a laser beam, and he is not satisfied until it's exactly right.

I have to confess that sometimes, the sound of his screaming drives me to hide in the pantry. And I will neither confirm nor deny that while in there, I compulsively eat chips and/or dark chocolate.

There are people who say this to me:

"You should enjoy every moment now! They grow up so fast!"

I usually smile and give some sort of guffaw, but inside, I secretly want to hold them under water. Just for a minute or so. Just until they panic a little.

If you have friends with small children -- especially if your children are now teenagers or if they're grown -- please vow to me right now that you will never say this to them. Not because it's not true, but because it really, really doesn't help.

We know it's true that they grow up too fast. But feeling like I have to enjoy every moment doesn't feel like a gift, it feels like one more thing that is impossible to do, and right now, that list is way too long. Not every moment is enjoyable as a parent; it wasn't for you, and it isn't for me. You just have obviously forgotten. I can forgive you for that. But if you tell me to enjoy every moment one more time, I will need to break up with you.

If you are a parent of small children, you know that there are moments of spectacular delight, and you can't believe you get to be around these little people. But let me be the one who says the following things out loud:

You are not a terrible parent if you can't figure out a way for your children to eat as healthy as your friend's children do. She's obviously using a bizarre and probably illegal form of hypnotism.

You are not a terrible parent if you yell at your kids sometimes. You have little dictators living in your house. If someone else talked to you like that, they'd be put in prison.

You are not a terrible parent if you can't figure out how to calmly give them appropriate consequences in real time for every single act of terrorism that they so creatively devise.

You are not a terrible parent if you'd rather be at work.

You are not a terrible parent if you just can't wait for them to go to bed.

You are not a terrible parent if the sound of their voices sometimes makes you want to drink and never stop.

You're not a terrible parent.

You're an actual parent with limits. You cannot do it all. We all need to admit that one of the casualties specific to our information saturated culture is that we have sky-scraper standards for parenting, where we feel like we're failing horribly if we feed our children chicken nuggets and we let them watch TV in the morning.

One of the reasons we are so exhausted is that we are oversaturated with information about the kind of parents we should be.

So, maybe it's time to stop reading the blogs that tell you how to raise the next president who knows how to read when she's 3 and who cooks, not only eats, her vegetables. Maybe it's time to embrace being the kind of parent who says sorry when you yell. Who models what it's like to take time for yourself. Who asks God to help you to be a better version of the person that you actually are, not for more strength to be an ideal parent.

So, the next time you see your friends with small children with that foggy and desperate look in their eyes, order them a pizza and send it to their house that night. Volunteer to take their kids for a few hours so they can be alone in their own house and have sex when they're not so tired, for heaven's sake. Put your hand on their shoulder, look them in the eyes, and tell them that they're doing a good job. Just don't freak out if they start weeping uncontrollably. Most of the time, we feel like we're botching the whole deal and our kids will turn into horrible criminals who hate us and will never want to be around us when they're older.

You're bone-tired. I'm not sure when it's going to get better. Today might be a good day or it might be the day that you lost it in a way that surprised even yourself.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You're not alone.

 

God Can Take It

I often think about what my children will remember about me long after I am gone.  Not so much what they will recall about me personally, but what life lessons I will have been able to impart.  One of my main goals as a mom is to teach them that it’s okay on occasion to be angry with God.   Just as we sometimes get angry with people that we love, it doesn’t mean we stop loving them; and God is no different.  I never want my children to be afraid of God, as if He is sitting up there, watching their every move, just waiting for them to make a mistake so He can outpour His wrath.  That is such a misconception.  I want my kids to know that God is a Father, and like most fathers, He wants the very best for His children.  He wants them to love Him and trust Him and talk to Him.  He wants them to know that He’ll never leave them, nor forsake them… He’ll never turn His back when they’ve made a poor choice.  I want my kids to know that God forgives them each and every time they blow it; and not only forgives them, but helps them dust themselves off and scramble back to their feet when they fall down. 

Life isn’t fair…but that doesn’t mean it isn’t good.  Bad things can and do happen to very good people and it is natural, in those circumstances, to question why God allowed it to occur.  I’ve had my share of broken moments, where I have been screaming at the Lord, like an angry child… His angry child.  Through it all, He’s never stopped loving me and I’ve never stopped loving Him.  I trust Him because I believe in Him and He’s only ever shown Himself faithful and loving, even in my darkest hours.  I can’t explain why terrible things happen, but I know that when they happen, I am never alone.

It’s okay to be angry with God, He can take it.  It’s okay to question what is written in the Bible and what others say about Him.  In fact, it’s good to question.  Questioning is a form of seeking and seeking will bring understanding of the truth.  I want my children to never render themselves spoon-fed without researching and studying the Word of God for themselves.  I want them to know that God’s love is not conditional…that they can do nothing to earn it and nothing to lose it.  He is eternal and so is His love for us.

Life is a mystery and everything can change in the blink of an eye; but it isn’t a mystery to God and He doesn’t blink or miss a thing so there is no reason to live in fear.  I want my kids to realize that God is bigger than everything and He’s a good one to have on their side.  We will endure hardship but He causes all things to work together for good for those that love Him (Romans 8:28)… that’s a promise to which I cling and I hope my children will as well.  ~

The Nagging Pays Off

This weekend I had a very proud parenting moment.  I have been fortunate to have many proud parenting moments, but I don’t always take the time to write about them.  Instead, they stay quietly woven into my heart where they will remain forever treasured.

The proud parenting moment to which I am referring involved my son and the good choices he made.  As a mom, I often feel that I nag and nag and nag and wonder if my words ever really sink in and if the message is heard.  This weekend I learned that my nagging has not been in vain.  My message has been received, processed and put into positive action…and I got to secretly witness it.  Here’s what happened:  My son was playing with some friends, one of which was using extremely foul language and making some inappropriate remarks.  I was about to say something, when my son told him if he didn’t stop cursing and saying bad things that he was going to have to leave.  I stood shocked.   Later, while the boys were playing Xbox, the same child told my son he was terrible at the game and called him a loser.  I was ready to charge into the room, demanding he apologize…but there was no need.  My son calmly paused the game, looked at the other kid and said, “If you say one more bad thing about me, you’re going home.” 

I tell you, I was gleeful at how well he handled the situation.  He didn’t yell, say anything derogatory back or retaliate in any way.  He simply and politely stood up for himself. 

I am SOOOOOOOOOOoooo proud of him and happy to know my nagging pays off.  J

 

 

One Childhood

I read a sign today that said, “Children get only one childhood.”

Standing there, staring at the sign, I couldn’t help but feel that it was onto something, but it should say more.  So this is what I came up with:

Children Get Only One Childhood…

So let them be wild, daring and free...let them be what they want to be...let them make noise, run and shout...give them something to laugh about...show them love, forgiveness and truth...and whenever you can offer them proof...don't say no when you can say yes...always teach them to do their best...just for fun, make life rhyme...and give them the greatest gift, your time.

Children get only one childhood...isn't our job to make it good?

Parenting can be hard, no, parenting IS hard.  Sometimes the hardest thing to remember is that they are children, not miniature adults.  They make messes and they don’t clean them up.  They’re loud, obnoxious, whiny and silly…and they’re supposed to be. 

 

Sometimes the hardest thing to give them is our undivided attention…our precious time.  But what we need to understand is that years from now they won’t remember the majority of toys they had…but they will remember a special moment shared with us.  They will remember that we gave them our time and that alone will make them realize how much they were and are loved. ~

Heads in the Sand

I was talking with a couple of ladies the other day, discussing parenting and the challenges children face in the world today, etc.  In regards to sex, one of the women said, “We don’t discuss sex in our home because I think it plants a seed in their minds and increases the chance that the kids will want to engage in premarital sex; and that’s wrong.”

I didn’t join the debate at the time, but it got me thinking…

I’m an idealist but I’m also a realist.  I believe in miracles and I also believe in statistical probability.  When it comes to premarital sex, I take a very realistic approach.  Teenagers have raging hormones and they’re entering a stage of life where they often find first love.  When you put those two things together, it usually results in sex. 

There are rare cases, like Tim Tebow, where people have chosen to wait until they are married.  I think this choice is commendable and I support it; however, it isn’t the statistical norm. 

When it comes to parenting and sex, I’m preparing my kids for everything.  The first lesson conveys the hope that they would abstain from having premarital sex.  The second lesson is to teach them that sex is not a tool or a weapon to be thrown around casually; that it is an expression of the love two people share.  The third lesson is to protect themselves through the use of contraceptives. 

In an ideal world, I’d tell them that sex can only be had after marriage…but we don’t live in an ideal world.  By the time they reach sixth grade they already know how it all works.  There is no stork.  Mommy and Daddy have body parts that fit together and make a baby.  Teenagers get pregnant.  Hell, there’s a reality television show about teen moms, none of which are married.  And politicians argue over something called ‘abortion.’  Whether or not we, as parents, discuss it in the home, the seed has already been planted and their minds are filled with questions…questions others will answer if we don’t. 

Regardless of the topic, as parents we have two choices:  either stick our heads in the sand and ignore the real world or teach our children everything we know and pray like hell we’ve taught them enough to empower them to make wise choices.  Smoking causes lung cancer.  Drugs can kill you.  Never drink and drive because you could kill yourself or accidentally murder someone else.  If you’re going to have sex, only do it with someone you truly love and always, always use protection.  These aren’t fun topics, but I think it is our responsibility to engage in these conversations with our kids.

Even then, just as we did and our parents before us and their parents before them, our children will make mistakes.  I guess my hope is that those mistakes are made out of momentary foolishness and not out of genuine ignorance.  Until the ideal becomes the real, I don't think we have the liberty of sticking our heads in the sand. ~ 

How Times Have Changed

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner and it got me thinking. When I was single, Valentine’s Day was all about having a date for the evening, planning out what I would wear, painting my nails pink or red, anxiously awaiting his arrival, going out to dinner, the goodnight kiss, etc.  The whole day was spent dreaming of a romantically magical evening. 

Twenty years and two kids later… Valentine’s Day means something entirely different.  Now, it’s about making shoe boxes into the perfect Valentine receptacle, about purchasing Valentines for each child’s friends and classmates, and about buying teacher gifts and making treats for classroom parties.  By the time the day is done, I’m too tired to even think about a romantically magical evening… besides, finding a babysitter for Valentine’s Day is virtually impossible.  All the babysitters are young and single and busy preparing for their magical evenings.

By the time we get the kids to bed, my husband and I will look at each other and exhale.  We’ll both be beat.  We’ll open a bottle of red wine, exchange cards and snuggle on the couch to a re-run of Star Trek: The Next Generation.  Twenty years ago I would have said this was lame…but now, it feels blissfully wonderful.

 

And if we stay awake long enough... we enjoy a lot more than just a goodnight kiss.  :)

 

Can I Get an AMEN up In Here?!

I overheard a conversation the other day between two women.  One was having difficulty dealing with daily life.  If I could break down all she shared into the simplest form, I would say she was feeling overwhelmed.  There were no major issues of illness, adultery or murder.  No one robbed a bank, got arrested or assaulted anyone else.  She was simply expressing the exhausting trials associated with juggling parenting, marriage and a career.

There were moments during their conversation when she cried, and my heart wept with empathy for her.  We’ve all been there.  In fact, I live there.  No matter how blessed we are, there are still days when we wonder how we’re going to get through….how we’re going to get it all done…and we feel like we just can’t handle one more thing.  It's those "calgon, take me away" moments.

 

 

As they talked and I eavesdropped, I had to force myself to bite my tongue and resist the temptation to barge into their conversation.  The friend, instead of just listening, took it upon herself to seize the moment for preaching.  She reminded her teary-eyed friend that the Bible tells us to do all things without complaining or grumbling or getting angry or being bitter and upset.  The tears that had pooled in the woman’s eyes now ran down her cheeks as the friend continued.  “Jesus tells us to be holy and seek perfection and to practice self-control…”

This went on for quite some time with the friend quoting Scripture and it took all of my strength not to leap to my feet and yell, “Shut-up!  You hypocritical bimbo!”  That’s what I was yelling inside my head.  Now, I don’t really know if this woman is a hypocrite or a bimbo, but those were the words that popped into my mind.

See, I can’t stand people like her.  I don’t have any close girlfriends who respond this way, and that’s a purposeful decision on my part.  There’s an uppity class of Christians who believe in holding one another accountable before the Lord… and even though the idea of this is Biblical…the method with which they carry it out is not.  I don’t associate with this kind of Christian for this very reason.

I believe God is way more concerned with us uplifting one another than holding one another "accountable."  I believe our main job is to love one another and not to judge.  The woman who got on her preachy high-horse in an attempt to help hold her friend accountable to God’s principals of Christianity, made her feel judged instead of loved.

This, quite frankly, pisses me off, and makes me want to tell every upity, know-it-all Christian what they can go kiss...

 

 

Jesus said, “Faith. Hope and Love; but the greatest of these is Love.”  When a girlfriend is crying, love doesn’t tell her she shouldn’t be bitter or angry or grumble.  Love says, “Cry it out.  I’m here.  I understand.  Life sucks sometimes.”

When a girlfriend is overworked and overwhelmed and feeling that she just can’t do one more thing, love doesn’t tell her she should seek perfection and strive for self-control.  Love says, “Can I help you?  Let me take the kids for a while and give you guys a date night.  Let's go have a coffee and whine a little.” (or wine a little!) 

Love listens…it does not preach…and it never judges.

Christianity is defined as having a “personal relationship with Jesus Christ” because it is just that:  PERSONAL.  That means it’s between God and you…no one else.  No one else has the right to preach to you or at you or judge you, not even when they are judging you with fundamental, Biblical principles.  Those principles are there for you to hold yourself accountable and for God to hold you accountable.  He doesn’t use them to judge you so what gives anyone else the right?  God uses those principles to help you grow and learn and become all that He has made you to be.  He doesn’t use them against you to beat you up or tear you down.  Only elitist Christians riding around on high-horses do that…and shame on them!

Can I get a frickin’ Amen up in here?!

 

 

   

Drooping Eyelids

Don’t you hate it when you can’t keep your eyes open?  Literally!  I was driving my son to practice and my daughter to rehearsal and my eyes wanted to roll back in my head while I was behind the wheel.  Upon arriving back home, I brewed a full pot of coffee and began slurping it down; so picking up the kids after their activities would be a safer drive…and it was.  Thank God for coffee!

There’s nothing scarier than the prospect of crashing with your kids in the car. 

I remember one time I actually fell asleep behind the wheel.  My children were little and we had recently moved to Kansas City.  I was experiencing post-partum depression and was medicated, not to mention I was exhausted from the move.  It was around three o’clock and the afternoon sun was bright and hot.  I was on my way home from the grocery store; and both kids were strapped into their car seats in the back of my suburban.  I turned onto a four lane street with a large, grassy median and the sun shone directly into my eyes. I blinked slowly and tried to keep my eyelids from drooping further.  The next thing I remember, the driver’s side tires were up over the median and I was heading for a tree.  I jolted awake and yanked the wheel to the right, missing the tree and sending my car back into the street. Thankfully, there were no other cars on the road at the time.  My heart was racing with adrenaline infused fear, as I glanced back at my kids.  They were sleeping peacefully, just like I had been a split second earlier.

I don't know what jolted me awake in the nick of time, but I give credit to God, who probably sent my guardian angel to shake me back to coherency.  It took me several weeks before I trusted myself to drive with the kids in the car again.  To say the experience shook me, is putting it lightly.  I was horrified.  It made me realize how quickly an accident can happen and that in one moment life can be snatched away. 

The moral of the story is.... I don't feel bad about my coffee addiction.  The way I see it, it just might save my life.  ~

I'm Really A Dog

Have you ever felt like the dog in this picture... like you’re trying so hard to blend in but no matter how much you look and act the part, you’re still different?  I have.  In fact, I feel this way most of the time.  I’m surrounded by other parents whose methods of parenting are far better than mine.  I’m amid team moms that are more dedicated to the sport and to the team than I am.  I’m amongst PTA members who are way more obsessed with their child’s education than I am.  I’m in a Bible study with ladies that trump me in the department of morality and purity.   It’s not that I don’t care about my children’s education or if their team wins or about being a good mom… it’s moreso that I don’t talk about these things constantly or regularly voice my opinion on them.  Trying to look and act the same often requires a certain level of either silence or faking or both.

Blending in can be exhausting.  I think that’s why I seek solace in writing, for on the pages of a novel I can live vicariously through each and every character.  When I’m deep in the throes of writing a novel, I don’t feel the unspoken (and sometimes spoken) condemnation on the way I live my life or the choices I make.  On the page, I can simply be the dog.    

In real life, I often want to scream, but that, too, would be considered an abnormal reaction amongst the herd of sheep.  So, I sit quietly, stifeling my bark, and wondering if anyone will notice I’m really a dog.  ~

A Writing Assignment

I needed to go to Wal-Mart for some bulk shopping.  Our home was bare, which happens every time I am deep in the throes of writing another novel.  I needed to replenish just about everything.  Toilet paper, Kleenex, paper towels, detergent, cleaning supplies, not to mention bulk food items.  As usual I was on a tight schedule so I told my 9 year old and 11 year old, who I was dragging with me to the store, that we were not stopping to look at clothing, toys, video games, books or anything else remotely exciting.  We were on a mission.  Get in, get what was on Mommy’s list and get out…quickly.  The key word:  Quickly!  As we walked toward the front doors I reiterated, “we are only buying what is on my list and nothing else.”  The underlying message in that sentence was:  DON’T ASK ME TO BUY YOU ANYTHING! 

We entered the store and my 11 year old daughter made an immediate beeline for a blouse, meanwhile my son jetted off toward the chocolate chip Poptarts and the begging began.  “Pleeeeaaase?”  Their eyelashes bat and the pouty lip came out.  “I neeeeeed it!” They said in unison.   I re-stated my original stance that we were in a hurry and NOT looking at things that weren’t on my list.  The begging continued.  “Well, if I can’t have pop tarts, can I have an action figure?”  Negotiated my 9 year old son.   

By the time we made it out of the store, I was flushed with frustration and anger; convinced that I had raised the most spoiled children on the planet.  Driving home I resolved to fix my poor childrearing skills by giving them the spiel every mother gives on how there are other children in the world without toys and video games and who have never tasted a pop tart; and how they should be thankful for all they have.   

As we pulled into the garage I turned to my children and announced they were grounded for the next thirty minutes, during which time they would each go to their rooms and write me a one page essay on the difference between needs and wants; and they would write about how richly they have been blessed. 

I lectured them on how, as their mom, it was my job to provide for their needs, namely to give them food, water, clothing, shelter and to let them know they are loved and cherished, to support their dreams and help them achieve their goals.  It was NOT my job to buy them everything they wanted every time they wanted it. 

Thirty minutes of writing didn't un-spoil my children, but it did give me a half an hour of peace and quiet; not to mention two adorable little letters I have tucked away to use one day as instruments of blackmail, or at the very least, for a good laugh.  :)