For me sometimes life seems like an endless stretching into the future, waiting for the next thing that might come my way. Or, on the flip side, a gut-wrenching look backward to all the times I got it wrong. Forward, backward, whatever. I seem to have a really hard time living in the moment.
There is a lot to look forward to of course. Plans must be made, dreams set in motion. There is nothing wrong with that. Life would be bleak indeed if we couldn't look forward to things. And memories can be a beautiful thing. Thinking back to times with loved ones, especially ones who are no longer with us can be one of the most precious things in life.
But what about when the future and the past encroach on the present? When my eyes are constantly looking into the distant future, waiting, waiting for that next elusive moment of happiness. Or when my eyes are constantly looking back, seeing all the regretful moments of my life. The looking ahead can become a restlessness in my soul that is unquenchable, and the looking back can become a shackle around my ankle, weighing me down.
What about just being content and happy in this moment? It is a struggle to stay focus and engaged on what is right in front of me. A struggle because of our technology filled world of course, but also just my own restless, discontented spirit gets in the way so very often. It feels so sad that I have this amazing life sitting right in front of me, and yet the urge to complain or fret is so often right at the tip of my mind (and therefore the tip of my tongue. Whatever I think, comes out of my mouth. But that is another topic altogether.) causing the joy of my present moment to be stripped away.
In this moment I have a husband who loves me. A cozy home to live in, on a beautiful property. Three spunky, gorgeous children. Health. Food. Clothing. In this moment I have more than I could ever possibly want or need. Books at my disposal. A lazyboy to put my feet up while I read. Or type. All of this, is what faces me this very moment. This moment. This moment, this very day, is all I have.
I'm not a new year's resolution kind of person, simply because I'm not one to set myself up for failure. But if I could do anything better in 2016, it would be to live in the moment. To wake up in the morning with the promise to myself that I will enjoy this one beautiful day. If I could accomplish this, then all of those beautiful days would eventually string together into one beautiful life. And this is it. This is my life. In all of it's messy beauty, this is my life.
It's so hard when the rubber meets the road though. When you wake up to children fighting and toast burning and school not going well and someone constantly needing you to play a game with them. It's hard to live in the moment when supper needs to be cooked (and who knows what to make anyway?) and an endless array of mind-numbing chores must be done. When you feel cranky and irritated and why AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO EVER DOES ANYTHING AROUND HERE and you know how it is.
But what if, what if all of those hard moments are the moments that make up a great life? What if my perspective could shift and instead of griping and complaining I could just be thankful that there is a family, a family in my home who, as long as they need fresh underwear, means that they are alive and healthy and well? I read something along those lines one time and I wish I could find it now. It was about how perspective is everything. Instead of seeing a dirty floor, see the beautiful children who tracked the dirt. Instead of sighing about grocery shopping, breathe a prayer of thankfulness that there is a grocery store stocked with food and money with which to buy it. Instead of groaning about ironing your husband's shirts (does anyone love ironing??) think of the man who faithfully gets up and goes to work every day without complaining so that you can have your beautiful life.
It is definitely a challenge for me, complainer that I am. But this is my goal for 2016: to live in the moment and be thankful for the beauty that is sitting right under my nose.
Monday, 11 January 2016
Thursday, 7 January 2016
This is me
You might see me on social media and think I have it all together.
You would be wrong.
That picture I post of freshly baked cookies? You don't know that those were the six I didn't burn.
That picture I post of my smiling kids? You don't know that those smiles lasted all of thirty seconds in our day from hell.
That picture I posted of my kids having a picnic? You don't know that as soon as I posted it, I turned around and yelled at them.
That status I wrote that included a Bible verse? You don't know that I had to post it because that day, that week, I was hanging on to God's promises by a mere thread.
That status I wrote about how great my kids did on their tests? You don't know the months of cajoling and tears and fighting it got to get there.
That encouraging post I shared? You don't know how desperately my own soul needed it.
That picture I posted of us on our family vacation? You don't know that most of the week I complained and the kids fought and we all wondered why we bothered.
That post I shared about homeschooling? You don't know that every single day I second guess our decision to home-educate.
That gorgeous scenery picture of my backyard? You don't know that I have mice crawling through my walls, cobwebs in my corners, dirt in my sink.
That picture of the meal I posted? You don't know that it's the only 'real' meal I served my family all week.
You don't know that I cry, that I yell, that I complain on a regular basis. That I find parenting difficult.
I claim to have faith in God, yet I struggle with anxiety.
You don't know that my kids fight, that they say hateful things to me and their siblings.
You don't know that my husband and I, although we have a good marriage, have fought so hard to get here. There have been days of wondering, hours of tears, lots of not-understanding, years of up-and-down. Lulls, boredom, anger.
You don't know that I could possibly be diagnosed with MS this year. That I struggle to figure out why. That although I am healthy and maybe this diagnosis won't come to pass, I wonder what God is doing. I cry, I rage, I find peace. Then I cry and rage again.
I wonder if God is really with me, if anyone else ever has doubts. I wonder if He is good. I wonder if there is a reason for all of this, if He will make good on His promise to restore justice.
Any slice of wisdom that it seems like I am imparting, know that I have climbed a mountain, crawled through a valley and shed an ocean of tears to get to that place.
Any bit of encouragement that might cross my lips, is being shared because I, more than anyone, needs to be lifted out of the fog of discouragement.
I have a great life. I try so hard to be thankful, to be grateful for what I've been given. But that is only a small part of the story. I am also human and real and struggling. The person that is presented on social media is only a slice, a tiny percentage of who I am. I never want anyone to forget that. We are all in this messy, beautiful, heartbreaking, amazing life together. Let's stop the comparison game, shall we? I'll go first.
You would be wrong.
That picture I post of freshly baked cookies? You don't know that those were the six I didn't burn.
That picture I post of my smiling kids? You don't know that those smiles lasted all of thirty seconds in our day from hell.
That picture I posted of my kids having a picnic? You don't know that as soon as I posted it, I turned around and yelled at them.
That status I wrote that included a Bible verse? You don't know that I had to post it because that day, that week, I was hanging on to God's promises by a mere thread.
That status I wrote about how great my kids did on their tests? You don't know the months of cajoling and tears and fighting it got to get there.
That encouraging post I shared? You don't know how desperately my own soul needed it.
That picture I posted of us on our family vacation? You don't know that most of the week I complained and the kids fought and we all wondered why we bothered.
That post I shared about homeschooling? You don't know that every single day I second guess our decision to home-educate.
That gorgeous scenery picture of my backyard? You don't know that I have mice crawling through my walls, cobwebs in my corners, dirt in my sink.
That picture of the meal I posted? You don't know that it's the only 'real' meal I served my family all week.
You don't know that I cry, that I yell, that I complain on a regular basis. That I find parenting difficult.
I claim to have faith in God, yet I struggle with anxiety.
You don't know that my kids fight, that they say hateful things to me and their siblings.
You don't know that my husband and I, although we have a good marriage, have fought so hard to get here. There have been days of wondering, hours of tears, lots of not-understanding, years of up-and-down. Lulls, boredom, anger.
You don't know that I could possibly be diagnosed with MS this year. That I struggle to figure out why. That although I am healthy and maybe this diagnosis won't come to pass, I wonder what God is doing. I cry, I rage, I find peace. Then I cry and rage again.
I wonder if God is really with me, if anyone else ever has doubts. I wonder if He is good. I wonder if there is a reason for all of this, if He will make good on His promise to restore justice.
Any slice of wisdom that it seems like I am imparting, know that I have climbed a mountain, crawled through a valley and shed an ocean of tears to get to that place.
Any bit of encouragement that might cross my lips, is being shared because I, more than anyone, needs to be lifted out of the fog of discouragement.
I have a great life. I try so hard to be thankful, to be grateful for what I've been given. But that is only a small part of the story. I am also human and real and struggling. The person that is presented on social media is only a slice, a tiny percentage of who I am. I never want anyone to forget that. We are all in this messy, beautiful, heartbreaking, amazing life together. Let's stop the comparison game, shall we? I'll go first.
Wednesday, 2 December 2015
Trusting God
The older I get, the more I realize that I have no idea what it means to trust in God. When I was younger, and feeling invincible, I thought it meant something along the lines of: Trust God and everything will be okay. Now, when I am older and jaded and disappointed, I see it for what it really is: Trust God. Period.
There is so much to feel sad and discouraged about in this world. People hurt other people. We all die. Babies get sick. Kids rebel. You can spend your whole life pouring yourself into your child and they still might go astray. Life, at it's very core, feels like a crapshoot. Sorrow upon sorrow. Endless.
I know that thinking this way leads some to believe there is no God but I am the opposite. All of this garbage that a lot of us deal with day in, day out leads me to believe that there has to be a God. If there is no God, what is the point? To me, there has to be something else. Believing that God is in His heaven, even with all of the grief and destruction down here, takes a lot of faith. Sometimes my faith feels very small. But it is always there. And if I believe that God is there, then I have to trust Him.
This trust though. What exactly is it? Like I said before, I used to think it was a cause and effect kind of thing. If I trust God, He will keep me healthy. If I trust God, He will make my kids turn out into decent human beings. If I trust God, there will never be anything sad in my life. But life has a way of throwing disillusionment upon even the most optimistic of us. (And I have never claimed to be an optimist.) Once I opened my eyes and realized that life can be extremely hard at times, I wondered what this meant about God and trusting Him.
I think the whole thing comes down to this: Do I believe He is real or not? And I do, so: If He is real, then what do I know about Him? If He is real, then He is there. If He is there, then He has a purpose. If He has a purpose, then whatever I face is not a mistake. If it is not a mistake, then I can trust Him. The question isn't "Will He take this hardship away so I can trust Him again?" but rather "Can I trust Him even though I am facing this really tough thing?" It isn't about give and take and making deals with Him. It's about knowing that if He is real, then He is trustworthy. That whatever comes my way, He will still be there.
God, because of who He is, cannot lie. And He has promised to be with me no matter where I go.
So I think the vital question is this: Do I trust God or not? Well, with all of the cynicism that I have accumulated over the years, I have also found that He who promised is faithful (Heb. 10:23). There has never been a time when I've been feeling discouraged that God has not come through. Maybe it's been a note from a friend, or hearing a Bible verse that seems hand-picked for me, or even simply feeling the fresh breeze on my face and a deep peace in my soul. All of it points to Someone out there who cares for me, and who never runs out of new mercies for each new day that I face.
There is so much to feel sad and discouraged about in this world. People hurt other people. We all die. Babies get sick. Kids rebel. You can spend your whole life pouring yourself into your child and they still might go astray. Life, at it's very core, feels like a crapshoot. Sorrow upon sorrow. Endless.
I know that thinking this way leads some to believe there is no God but I am the opposite. All of this garbage that a lot of us deal with day in, day out leads me to believe that there has to be a God. If there is no God, what is the point? To me, there has to be something else. Believing that God is in His heaven, even with all of the grief and destruction down here, takes a lot of faith. Sometimes my faith feels very small. But it is always there. And if I believe that God is there, then I have to trust Him.
This trust though. What exactly is it? Like I said before, I used to think it was a cause and effect kind of thing. If I trust God, He will keep me healthy. If I trust God, He will make my kids turn out into decent human beings. If I trust God, there will never be anything sad in my life. But life has a way of throwing disillusionment upon even the most optimistic of us. (And I have never claimed to be an optimist.) Once I opened my eyes and realized that life can be extremely hard at times, I wondered what this meant about God and trusting Him.
I think the whole thing comes down to this: Do I believe He is real or not? And I do, so: If He is real, then what do I know about Him? If He is real, then He is there. If He is there, then He has a purpose. If He has a purpose, then whatever I face is not a mistake. If it is not a mistake, then I can trust Him. The question isn't "Will He take this hardship away so I can trust Him again?" but rather "Can I trust Him even though I am facing this really tough thing?" It isn't about give and take and making deals with Him. It's about knowing that if He is real, then He is trustworthy. That whatever comes my way, He will still be there.
God, because of who He is, cannot lie. And He has promised to be with me no matter where I go.
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in (hell), you are there!
9
If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.
Psalm 139: 8-10
So I think the vital question is this: Do I trust God or not? Well, with all of the cynicism that I have accumulated over the years, I have also found that He who promised is faithful (Heb. 10:23). There has never been a time when I've been feeling discouraged that God has not come through. Maybe it's been a note from a friend, or hearing a Bible verse that seems hand-picked for me, or even simply feeling the fresh breeze on my face and a deep peace in my soul. All of it points to Someone out there who cares for me, and who never runs out of new mercies for each new day that I face.
Monday, 23 November 2015
Their eyes haunt me. Those babies and children who are stuck in a grey world of war. Whose cities, lives, and very homes have been mowed down. Who sleep in the streets and wonder why their mama isn't coming for them. They are hurt, broken and forgotten. They have seen, in one short life, what most of us never see in an entire lifetime. They are refugees and their eyes beg me to rescue them.
I think of my world, which is vastly different from theirs. My comfort, the ease, the take-it-for-granted attitude that I, and everyone around me, bears. My children will not go to bed hungry tonight. I have the privilege of cozying up on a couch with a hot cup of tea, and browse CNN to see what other horrors might be awaiting those with the sorrowful eyes. I will wake up in the morning, if God grants me breath, and I will not think of them. I will go shopping and load up on the consumerism that is slowly killing this nation, and I will forget. When my children wake up Christmas morning with their bright eyes, somewhere those babies are weeping for their mamas.
It makes me cry. In our abundance and privilege, dare we turn these children away? And how have we come to the point in our thinking that we are comparing human souls to gumballs and jellybeans?? (If you don't know what I'm talking about, be very thankful.) I fail to understand why Christians always seem to play Devil's advocate. Why they must always jump on the bandwagon of extremes without even thinking anything through. Or thinking through a very small tunnel. Truth is not found in the extremes, but in the middle.
The doubts do creep in. You wonder if the refugees need to be brought in so quickly. You wonder if our country (or our already poor province of Nova Scotia) has the capability, funds, vaccines, jobs, etc to handle an influx of people. You wonder if our very new, very young Prime Minister has thought this thing through. You wonder what will happen if indeed a terrorist slips through. The doubts are real, and I don't think voicing them means that we don't care.
BUT...
Christians, of all people, know why the world is the way it is. We know what it's eventually going to come to. We know that we are blessed, in the last few hundred years, to not have been persecuted in our first world nation. But more than all of this, we know Who is in control. The government is going to do what the government is going to do, and the last time I checked, in my Bible it says that God is in control of them too. Also, we are told time and time again in God's word, to not fear. The future, murder, persecution, famine, plague, pestilence - none of it should cause us fear. Not that any bad stuff won't happen to us. Rather, Jesus promised that it will happen to us. He said point-blank that in this world we will have trouble (John 16:33). And maybe, just maybe, God wants the refugees to come to us so that we can be shaken out of our very deep sleep.
Maybe it is all being handled poorly. Maybe our country isn't ready to have a large group of refugees come in. Maybe it is the worst decision our Prime Minister could make. Maybe. Who knows?
But if Mr. Trudeau chooses to invite 25, 000 refugees into our country, then we do what Jesus would have done. We forbid them not. (And that might mean keeping our mouths shut on social media.) We clothe them, feed them, shelter them. If they, for whatever reason, choose to persecute us, we turn the other cheek. If they kill us, as some are suggesting could happen, we go to God in heaven. I am not saying something like that wouldn't be tragic or wrong. I am not saying to not be cautious, but it is utterly, completely beyond our control and out of our hands. So let's do the right thing and be the hands and feet of Jesus to a lost and dying world. Let's love as Jesus loved. Let's step out of our cushy lives and give of ourselves the way He gave. And, for goodness' sake, let's stop railing against the inevitable and be the peacemakers He's called us to be.
I think of my world, which is vastly different from theirs. My comfort, the ease, the take-it-for-granted attitude that I, and everyone around me, bears. My children will not go to bed hungry tonight. I have the privilege of cozying up on a couch with a hot cup of tea, and browse CNN to see what other horrors might be awaiting those with the sorrowful eyes. I will wake up in the morning, if God grants me breath, and I will not think of them. I will go shopping and load up on the consumerism that is slowly killing this nation, and I will forget. When my children wake up Christmas morning with their bright eyes, somewhere those babies are weeping for their mamas.
It makes me cry. In our abundance and privilege, dare we turn these children away? And how have we come to the point in our thinking that we are comparing human souls to gumballs and jellybeans?? (If you don't know what I'm talking about, be very thankful.) I fail to understand why Christians always seem to play Devil's advocate. Why they must always jump on the bandwagon of extremes without even thinking anything through. Or thinking through a very small tunnel. Truth is not found in the extremes, but in the middle.
The doubts do creep in. You wonder if the refugees need to be brought in so quickly. You wonder if our country (or our already poor province of Nova Scotia) has the capability, funds, vaccines, jobs, etc to handle an influx of people. You wonder if our very new, very young Prime Minister has thought this thing through. You wonder what will happen if indeed a terrorist slips through. The doubts are real, and I don't think voicing them means that we don't care.
BUT...
Christians, of all people, know why the world is the way it is. We know what it's eventually going to come to. We know that we are blessed, in the last few hundred years, to not have been persecuted in our first world nation. But more than all of this, we know Who is in control. The government is going to do what the government is going to do, and the last time I checked, in my Bible it says that God is in control of them too. Also, we are told time and time again in God's word, to not fear. The future, murder, persecution, famine, plague, pestilence - none of it should cause us fear. Not that any bad stuff won't happen to us. Rather, Jesus promised that it will happen to us. He said point-blank that in this world we will have trouble (John 16:33). And maybe, just maybe, God wants the refugees to come to us so that we can be shaken out of our very deep sleep.
Maybe it is all being handled poorly. Maybe our country isn't ready to have a large group of refugees come in. Maybe it is the worst decision our Prime Minister could make. Maybe. Who knows?
But if Mr. Trudeau chooses to invite 25, 000 refugees into our country, then we do what Jesus would have done. We forbid them not. (And that might mean keeping our mouths shut on social media.) We clothe them, feed them, shelter them. If they, for whatever reason, choose to persecute us, we turn the other cheek. If they kill us, as some are suggesting could happen, we go to God in heaven. I am not saying something like that wouldn't be tragic or wrong. I am not saying to not be cautious, but it is utterly, completely beyond our control and out of our hands. So let's do the right thing and be the hands and feet of Jesus to a lost and dying world. Let's love as Jesus loved. Let's step out of our cushy lives and give of ourselves the way He gave. And, for goodness' sake, let's stop railing against the inevitable and be the peacemakers He's called us to be.
(They) asked Him, "Which commandment is the most important of all?" Jesus answered, "The most important is... you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these." Mark 12:28-31
Tuesday, 27 October 2015
A note to myself
I was thinking today of my life as it was approximately eight-ish years ago when I had a toddler and a newborn. Life was - shall we say - rough. My less than two-year-old was busy. So busy that in order to nurse my newborn, I had to lock us into a room, the three of us, me sitting on the bed nursing, my boy playing with the few toys I had in there for him. I just couldn't trust him enough to nurse my baby in the living room with him left to roam free, which usually meant, for him, a trip to the kitchen to explore. I remember sinking to the floor in tears a couple of times during that period. It all just felt like way too much. And I felt like too much of not enough. There wasn't enough of me and I was tired and actually probably a little malnourished now that I think of it. I remember waking up in the mornings and whole-heartedly dreading my day. The long, long day ahead of who-knows-what facing me. Would my toddler sit still long enough for me to sip a cup of tea? Would I be able to read a few sentences of anything? Would I remember, finally, who I was and how I got here? Or would I have to constantly jump up and down to get my boy out of harm's way, to get him another drink, to change another diaper, to make a meal, to make sure everyone was fed and safe, to somehow make sure I got dressed and fed too. It was quite literally the absolute most exhausting time of my life.
And now here I am, on the other side. Somewhere in all that fog I got pregnant again and had my first girl. Suddenly I am the mom of a ten-year-old, eight-year-old and six-year old. I am witness to the fact that life levels out again. Things get better. Soon those toddlers and babies are able to get themselves in and out of the car, to wipe their own bottoms, to dress and feed themselves. Sure, I am still needed. Supper still must be cooked, groceries done and house cleaned and of course the bulk of it falls to me. But the emotional and physical drain on my heart and soul is not nearly as bone-shatteringly tiring. I sound dramatic, but anyone who has been in my shoes knows what I'm talking about.
If I could, I would go back in time to have a chat with myself. And this is what I would say:
1. You are ENOUGH
These particular children were given to you for a reason. You are the best possible mom for them and you are enough. You. Are. Enough. I know it doesn't feel like it, but just feeding and clothing those precious babies is enough. Just being there is enough. I know in writing you're not supposed to keep saying the same word over and over, but I must say it again: YOU ARE ENOUGH. It doesn't matter if all those other moms are crafting and pinteresting and have angelic looking children because you know what? They don't. You find me a mom that is always that perfectly put together and perfectly perfect, and I will tell you that trolls are actually real. All those other moms with 'good' children? Don't exist. Even if it seems like it and I promise that at times it does seem like it, but I am here to tell you that they do not exist. Every other mother that you know, has held poop in her hands. She has yelled at her kids and sometimes she wants to run away. If she tells you that none of this has happened, then she is flat out lying to your face. So, back to my original point, you are enough. If you love your babies and keep everyone fed and alive, you are enough. Our version of 'enough' is too big. We think we have to be superhuman. We forget how tired we are and therefore forget to be gentle with ourselves. The real version of 'enough' is just that: the minimal that you do to ensure love and safety is enough. Enough, I tell you. And no, I am not tired of saying it. I will say it until you believe. ENOUGH.
2. Let go of the guilt
'Frozen' didn't exist back in 2007, but I would sing it to you now. 'Let it go, let it go...' Seriously let it go. Is there any more crippling emotion than guilt? Your kids are fine. They will be fine. It is not going to hurt them if you don't have the energy to play another game with them. It won't kill them to realize that Mommy gets tired too. If they have to cry while you feed their sibling, it's okay. If you can't do much more in the run of a day than to keep the house standing, that is okay. If they have to play independently for a while so you can lay down and rest, they will be okay. No child ever died from Mommy needing a break. If your general pattern is to love on them and if your home is secure and loving and their basic needs are met, it's really, really okay to let the baby cry for a few minutes while you sit and read with your toddler. Trust me. No one is doing this gig better than you and certainly no one ever won an award for being most-stretched-thin mom. Take a break. Leave them with your husband when he gets home and go to Chapters. Or chat with a friend. Or whatever rejuvenates you.
3. God is there
Sometimes He can feel far away, but honestly, and I promise you this, He is right there beside you. He promises to gently lead those who have young children (Isaiah 40:11) and He promises to never leave your side. And I am here, all these years later, to tell you: It is all true. So reach out to Him and draw from His strength. Also, another verse in the Bible tells us to think on what is true (Philippians 4:8). And the truth? You are a good mom. If you got up this morning and kissed your babies, you are a good mom. Any decision you make that is based on the good of your family, means that you are a good mom.
4. This will pass
Newsflash: It does end. All those ladies who stop you in the grocery to store to tell you to 'enjoy it because it goes so fast' actually mean it. I will personally rip their heads off for you about the 'enjoy it' part because let's face it, a lot of what you're going through is actually not enjoyable. We'll talk more about 'joy' next, but for now let me say: It really, truly does go by so very fast. The days feel utterly long and endless sometimes but the years fly by. Soon you will have elementary age children and you will look back on these days of babyhood with longing. (Not really. But that's not my point.)
5. Find the little moments of joy
Now, it's really hard to enjoy these babyhood days. Really, really hard. It's hard to feel joy when you're changing your tenth diaper in a day. Or joy when you step in poop, or find your baby eating his poop, or anything related to poop. It's hard to enjoy it when you've had no sleep the night before and your toddler keeps tantrumming and your baby is going through a growth spurt and won't stop nursing. It's just plain hard. But what I will tell you is this: Find moments to enjoy. Because there are moments of joy. When your little boy sees you weeping on the floor because you forget who you are and he comes over and hugs you (this really happened to me). When your baby smiles their first full-on grin. And sometimes it's about making the moments of joy for yourself. Boiling water for tea. Turning on your favourite restful music. Watching a show during nap time. Going for a walk in the clear fresh air. Remembering to breathe. Just breathe. You will come out of this alive and intact and with amazing children.
6. Ask for help
And last of all, remember to ask for help. My mom was close by and so I did get lots of help from her. But I think there were times when I needed help and didn't ask. I think it would have done wonders for my sanity if I'd asked her once in a while to come get the toddler so I could focus on the baby. (And who knows maybe I did do this. It was all such a fog I think I actually have holes in my brain from it.) (I know I'm writing this to myself technically, but here's a good tip: If you're not near your mom, look for someone else in your life to ask for a breather. If there is someone who would gladly take your toddler off your hands for a while, then ask.) Let go of the guilt that you have to be their everything all the time and just ask.
Okay I think that's all I needed to say. Hang in there, little mama.
And now here I am, on the other side. Somewhere in all that fog I got pregnant again and had my first girl. Suddenly I am the mom of a ten-year-old, eight-year-old and six-year old. I am witness to the fact that life levels out again. Things get better. Soon those toddlers and babies are able to get themselves in and out of the car, to wipe their own bottoms, to dress and feed themselves. Sure, I am still needed. Supper still must be cooked, groceries done and house cleaned and of course the bulk of it falls to me. But the emotional and physical drain on my heart and soul is not nearly as bone-shatteringly tiring. I sound dramatic, but anyone who has been in my shoes knows what I'm talking about.
If I could, I would go back in time to have a chat with myself. And this is what I would say:
1. You are ENOUGH
These particular children were given to you for a reason. You are the best possible mom for them and you are enough. You. Are. Enough. I know it doesn't feel like it, but just feeding and clothing those precious babies is enough. Just being there is enough. I know in writing you're not supposed to keep saying the same word over and over, but I must say it again: YOU ARE ENOUGH. It doesn't matter if all those other moms are crafting and pinteresting and have angelic looking children because you know what? They don't. You find me a mom that is always that perfectly put together and perfectly perfect, and I will tell you that trolls are actually real. All those other moms with 'good' children? Don't exist. Even if it seems like it and I promise that at times it does seem like it, but I am here to tell you that they do not exist. Every other mother that you know, has held poop in her hands. She has yelled at her kids and sometimes she wants to run away. If she tells you that none of this has happened, then she is flat out lying to your face. So, back to my original point, you are enough. If you love your babies and keep everyone fed and alive, you are enough. Our version of 'enough' is too big. We think we have to be superhuman. We forget how tired we are and therefore forget to be gentle with ourselves. The real version of 'enough' is just that: the minimal that you do to ensure love and safety is enough. Enough, I tell you. And no, I am not tired of saying it. I will say it until you believe. ENOUGH.
2. Let go of the guilt
'Frozen' didn't exist back in 2007, but I would sing it to you now. 'Let it go, let it go...' Seriously let it go. Is there any more crippling emotion than guilt? Your kids are fine. They will be fine. It is not going to hurt them if you don't have the energy to play another game with them. It won't kill them to realize that Mommy gets tired too. If they have to cry while you feed their sibling, it's okay. If you can't do much more in the run of a day than to keep the house standing, that is okay. If they have to play independently for a while so you can lay down and rest, they will be okay. No child ever died from Mommy needing a break. If your general pattern is to love on them and if your home is secure and loving and their basic needs are met, it's really, really okay to let the baby cry for a few minutes while you sit and read with your toddler. Trust me. No one is doing this gig better than you and certainly no one ever won an award for being most-stretched-thin mom. Take a break. Leave them with your husband when he gets home and go to Chapters. Or chat with a friend. Or whatever rejuvenates you.
3. God is there
Sometimes He can feel far away, but honestly, and I promise you this, He is right there beside you. He promises to gently lead those who have young children (Isaiah 40:11) and He promises to never leave your side. And I am here, all these years later, to tell you: It is all true. So reach out to Him and draw from His strength. Also, another verse in the Bible tells us to think on what is true (Philippians 4:8). And the truth? You are a good mom. If you got up this morning and kissed your babies, you are a good mom. Any decision you make that is based on the good of your family, means that you are a good mom.
4. This will pass
Newsflash: It does end. All those ladies who stop you in the grocery to store to tell you to 'enjoy it because it goes so fast' actually mean it. I will personally rip their heads off for you about the 'enjoy it' part because let's face it, a lot of what you're going through is actually not enjoyable. We'll talk more about 'joy' next, but for now let me say: It really, truly does go by so very fast. The days feel utterly long and endless sometimes but the years fly by. Soon you will have elementary age children and you will look back on these days of babyhood with longing. (Not really. But that's not my point.)
5. Find the little moments of joy
Now, it's really hard to enjoy these babyhood days. Really, really hard. It's hard to feel joy when you're changing your tenth diaper in a day. Or joy when you step in poop, or find your baby eating his poop, or anything related to poop. It's hard to enjoy it when you've had no sleep the night before and your toddler keeps tantrumming and your baby is going through a growth spurt and won't stop nursing. It's just plain hard. But what I will tell you is this: Find moments to enjoy. Because there are moments of joy. When your little boy sees you weeping on the floor because you forget who you are and he comes over and hugs you (this really happened to me). When your baby smiles their first full-on grin. And sometimes it's about making the moments of joy for yourself. Boiling water for tea. Turning on your favourite restful music. Watching a show during nap time. Going for a walk in the clear fresh air. Remembering to breathe. Just breathe. You will come out of this alive and intact and with amazing children.
6. Ask for help
And last of all, remember to ask for help. My mom was close by and so I did get lots of help from her. But I think there were times when I needed help and didn't ask. I think it would have done wonders for my sanity if I'd asked her once in a while to come get the toddler so I could focus on the baby. (And who knows maybe I did do this. It was all such a fog I think I actually have holes in my brain from it.) (I know I'm writing this to myself technically, but here's a good tip: If you're not near your mom, look for someone else in your life to ask for a breather. If there is someone who would gladly take your toddler off your hands for a while, then ask.) Let go of the guilt that you have to be their everything all the time and just ask.
Okay I think that's all I needed to say. Hang in there, little mama.
Friday, 12 June 2015
Friday links
It's the weekend everyone! I could not be happier! It was also our last day of homeschool today and I am one happy mother! Woohoo! A break from the normal is so needed in this home. Here's to summer and not having to school for a while!
Here is what I came across this week:
Found this helpful as someone who wants to become a writer. It's my dream!
I could not have made a better list myself! I think she totally nails what makes a great marriage.
There is so much cruelty from Christians on the internet in regards to the whole topic of transgenderism. I found this article to be very compassionate and helpful in terms of how Christians are supposed to respond to the topic.
Jess reminds us to focus on the right things in our parenting.
I don't know about you, but I struggle with doubt from time to time. I don't ever doubt God's existence, but I do doubt Him and His promises and the things He chooses to do/not do. I found this article on the topic encouraging.
Wednesday, 10 June 2015
Book review: The Explosive Child
I have a child who is very difficult. A child who doesn't follow the norm of, disobey-be disciplined-life goes on. This child bucks everything that my other children do not. For years, I have felt like a terrible parent, like I am doing everything wrong and like a complete failure. Even though I try my best to be consistent and calm and all the rest of it, this kid just doesn't change. I have read parenting article, after parenting article from all different stances on the parenting spectrum. Some people have told me, indirectly, that there is something wrong with the way my husband and I parent. But honestly that can't be it. Sure, we're broken humans and therefore broken parents, but we can't be that bad. After all, we have two other children who are reasonable and manageable. It can't possibly be entirely our fault.
Enter this book, The Explosive Child by Ross W. Greene. It was extremely eye-opening for me. Maybe it is not rocket science and maybe every other parent who reads it will go, "Oh yeah of course! I do that!". But those are the perfect, on-the-ball parents whom I never want to meet.
Basically the premise of the book is this: Some kids are difficult/explosive. But maybe we're focusing on the wrong aspects of the situation to help them become more reasonable. The focus should not be on unilateral parenting (parent laying down the law and enforcing it) but rather identifying the source of the defiance and finding solutions together (parents and child) to get at the root of what's really bothering your child. Dr. Greene believes that some children simply lack the skills for knowing how to react to a parent's expectations. For example, maybe every time you tell him/her to go to bed, they baulk. Well, instead of coming up with another disciplinary measure or another sticker chart, sit down with your child and find out why they baulk every time you ask them to go to bed. Again, maybe all parents already do this, but for me, it was truly enlightening. If we don't take this time to get at the root and heart of our children, then it's all about behaviour modification rather than teaching them to be decent adults.
It just makes so much sense to me. So many parenting blogs, books and articles focus on making your kids obey. Which is all well and good, until you have a child that just won't obey. And then what? I have never known the answer to that until reading this book. The thing is, (and Dr. Greene points this out too) my kid does know right from wrong. He does know what he's supposed to be doing. He just doesn't, I truly believe, know how to process his desires in a way that makes it easier for me help him. I never knew what exactly it was that I was supposed to be doing help him, to get to comply and most of all, to reach his heart. No one ever answers those questions. But I finally feel like I get it.
This is not a Christian-based book. However I found it very helpful and would recommend it to anyone who has a child that is unmanageable. Also, this is not a book that says to give in and stop all consistency at all. But it's a different approach to how to reach your child. Instead of unilateral parenting, it's a collaborative approach. So, so helpful. And it's exactly what I needed.
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