help

Today I am going to work on Prayer.  I think I need to be in constant prayer.  From the moment I wake up until my head hits the pillow.  I'm not sure how else I am suppose to know what to do.

all black

I'm wearing all black today to show respect for my old life.  I think I'm mourning the loss of having time to do things I love, spend large quantities of time with my children, and having one on one time with my husband.  Ok...so really I'm wearing black because that's all I could find that didn't need to be ironed, but the part about mourning is true.  I suppose I should be looking at the glass as half full and celebrating my new adventures ahead.  Sometimes I do, but right now I'm feeling a wee bit overwhelmed.  The weeks ahead look impossible.  I'm already feeling my two year old cling to my leg more, as if he knows what is about to happen.  He can sense that mom will be gone a lot and his life too will be different.

What have I gotten myself into?

it hurts

I hurt when my children hurt.  When they cry true tears of sadness, I cry too.   I ache inside when they feel lonely or afraid. I think that's what happens when hearts are linked.  When love is deep and souls are united.

I think there is nothing more heart wrenching than watching my children go through trials.  Sometimes it is when a five year old is frustrated because she can't tie her shoe.  Other times it is watching a 7 year old get left out when three is a crowd.  Whether those trials are big or small, sometimes all I can do as tell them I love them and watch them as they learn that while trials are hard, they make us stronger.

I once heard a friend say that our children should grow up knowing two things: 1. That they have a personal testimony of Jesus Christ, 2. That they know they are loved.  I hope that my children know these things, and as they are learning and growing their testimonies. That they know that I love them and God loves them and that those two things will never change.

 No one knows our children like we do.  No one else sees themselves when they look at my child.  But mothers do, and so do fathers.  We long to give them everything, teach them everything, and hope that when we fall short they will still find a way for themselves.

in awe

Have you ever judged someone harshly and then cringed at yourself for being so critical when you later find out that the person you so cruelly judged, is a simply amazing person?  And has that person become one of your dearest and closet friends?  I have.  She is.

A couple of days ago, my very organized week was turned upside down when we found out Q had to leave for an unexpected business trip.  Things that I needed to do were going to be very difficult without Q there to help with the kids.  So I called on this friend previously mentioned.  I told her the perdicament and she simply replied, "What do you need?  We will make it happen."  Not, "oh sorry, I'm too busy" or "I don't know...It's a school night" or any other imaginable excuse.  She offered to do things I would never have asked of her.  She was simply willing to serve with love.  Amazing.

She is not the only person in my life to do these selfless acts for my family.  I can't possibly count the times when friends or family have stepped up in my time of need.
--Need someone to watch your children in the middle of the night while you are in labor having a baby?  Happily.
--Drop everything to pick up your sick child from school so you don't have to wake your sleeping toddler?  Certainly.
--Listen to you cry about struggles in life?  With open arms.

I am continually in awe of the amazing people in my life.  I marvel at the goodness in their hearts.  And I wonder how I can become like them.

honesty

It seems like a lot of my thoughts stem from something I've read.  Reading is one of the great joys in life.  On this particular occasion I was reading a magazine with an article on eliminating stress, or at least I think that was what it was about.  The only thing I remember is it talked about being honest.  The author expressed that we should be honest about what our lives are really like.  Not in just the words we say, but in our actions.  Actions?  Huh...I had never really thought about actions being honest or dishonest.

Sometimes we put on appearances that things are different than they really are.  Maybe we pretend to have more money than we actually do by buying on credit.  Or when we have a party and our house is perfectly clean, not a fingerprint on the fridge, or dish in the sink or dust bunny behind the TV.  Is that a true representation of who we are?  I am particularly sensitive to this subject of housekeeping because I am such a terrible housekeeper.  I love having a clean organized house, but there seems to be so many other things I would rather be doing.  Inviting people over is at times the only way I actually get it clean.  The pressure of someone seeing my house a disaster is what motivates me to get it clean.  The author of the article suggested that when someone says, "I love your house" or "Your house looks great" that we reply by saying something something like, "Thanks it took me three days to clean it."  Ha ha, that's the truth.  Sometimes it does take me three days to clean my mess.

I love seeing how other people live.  And I love looking at homes.  Before we had children, Q and I used to go to real estate open houses just for fun.  So a few years ago when I went to a friend's home for the first time, she offered to show me her house, and I was delighted.  It is a modest home they had built several years prior.  As we came into the master suite, we went into the bathroom and she said, "please excuse the mess, but we live here."  Ahhh....those were the sweetest words I had ever heard, "we live here".  Of course her house isn't perfect, with a few clothes on the floor and things on the bathroom counter.  It was an eye opening moment for me.  Those words gave me permission to not be embarrassed that we LIVE in our home.  That kids make messes. That some days I leave my shoes and clothes lying on the ground at the foot of my bed because I was just too tired to put them away properly.  That the dishes don't always get done before I go to bed. And there is a constant mound of clean laundry that needs to be folded in the chair in my bedroom. Those words helped me realize that I don't have to be perfectly tidy to allow others into my home. What a relief.

So with that in mind, excuse me while I go do the dishes and pick up the living room because a friend will be here any minute.

little people

I think I've turned a corner in my life.  It's been coming on for a while.  Let me explain.  I used to not like other people's children...very much.  I know it sounds horrible.  Aren't women suppose to be the nurturing ones?  Don't get me wrong, I love my own children, I just didn't have a desire to be around other people's children for extended periods of time.  Two hours was my limit on babysitting.  After that I was constantly checking the clock, wondering when their parents would come.  

A few years ago, a friend told me how much her children loved their uncle.  And she appreciated how he would talk to each of them individually and make them feel special because he was genuinely interested in them.  Something changed in me on that day.  I realized that children, weren't just children, they were little people.  And if you took interest in them, they could become your friend, not just your friend's child.  So I gave it a try.  Amazingly it worked.  Once I began to see children as individuals, they became so much more interesting.  It became fun to learn about them and I began to enjoy their company.

Years have past since this initial trial and the children around me have become important in my life.  Today I spent the entire day with other people's children.  And at the end of the day I am happy.  Happy to know and influence such interesting little people.

memoirs

I have often thought about writing a book.  A novel is out of the question because it requires dialog, and I am no good at writing that.  But recently I have read books that are memoirs of the lives of women.  I thought these books were so fascinating.  I loved looking into other peoples lives and seeing how they live.  The craziness in their life, made me feel as though there were others who experienced hardship mixed in with the fun and good, just like mine.

So I thought about it.  Yes, I could write a memoir about my life.  My childhood was just crazy enough, and I turned out just normal enough that it might work.  Then I realized that if I were to write a book about my life, I would have to write ALL of it.  The good, the bad, and the truly horrible.  Which would mean talking about things that have never been talked about.  It would exploit the actions of all of us,  myself included, some known and some unknown. Honesty would mean my family would be offended and embarrassed and I could lose some very important people in my life if it were ever to be published.

I think that, at least for now, there are some things that should remain unspoken.