Day 2

So here I am at day 2, feeling rather accomplished. I have eaten the way I had hoped, and exercised in accordance to what my goals were. Super. Feeling good. Yep, no problem here with goal setting and sticking to it. Except tomorrow. I mentioned I homeschooled so from 8 am until noon I am busy. Not to mention keeping up after two little ones who could give a rip about learning anything. Plus I have a small little hair business to tend to, and tomorrow happens to be a busier day with all that. Really from 8 am until 9pm I am going non stop. What’s wrong with this picture? I have become the very person I loathed about 3 years ago; the mom who is so busy with all these activities that she has no moments to her self. No down time. God did not wire us to go go go. He made us to stop, each day I might add, and literally smell the roses. I used to think that once a week was fine to stop and rest. The more kiddos we add to this family the more I see it’s imperative to do so each day.

So here I am at a cross roads. Wake up tomorrow, accept the day that I schedule before me and go on only to collapse in a heap at 9 pm, or work out another option. There are always plan B’s, even when it doesn’t look like it. As I started writing  tonight I never imagined this is what I’d be writing about. I guess it fits though with goal setting. Most of us can’t finish anything because we have too many ‘things’ on our plates. We live in a cyclone society and there is tremendous pressure to be doing something all the time. All the stuff is really good, but not all of it is helpful. The Bible says, ” All things are permissable, but not all things are beneficial”.

So tonight as I make my tea and head to bed I wonder what’s going to give tomorrow. My prayer for myself and my family is that I wouldn’t sacrifice them or my personal goals. I pray that tomorrow  I would take my children and stop for a while and smell the roses. Who knows, they may enjoy some Hip Hop Abs and a walk in the park. Call it P.E.?

Day One… here’s where we are

Here I am at the close of day one, this is how I stand in my personal challenge:

Everything I ate was deck of card size, save for the huge portion of salad at dinner, check!

Excercise for 40 minutes, check!

Longing for more Weir,TX bbq, check!

The true meaning of Christmas found only in the Target bathroom.

So the holiday season was upon us, as was the tremendous shopping that we all feel like we have to do.  Oh I know, we all say that we aren’t doing a lot this year; trying to cut back, get to the “real” meaning of Christmas.  All the while, we talk about what “Santa” is getting the kids for Christmas.  Not too much of course.  Santa must be in on the true meaning as well.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not a Santa hater.  Love the story, love the big guy, who isn’t real just the same as I have a fondness for Elmo or any of those characters.  I just happen to think if I am going to plunk down a load of cash on gifts, I want my kids to know it’s me doing the plunking.  I mean think about it, Christmas morning “Santa” brings your kids an IPOD, and all you got them was a lousy game boy.  I’m just saying, these things set kids up for later in life thinking their parents are cheap or just poor.  Not to mention for our family having to explain that he isn’t real to a very literal boy, and then saying “but God is real, that we didn’t lie to you about.”  But I digress.

We hope and pray to find the Wii set up, or the motorized scooter, or the ever popular, sell your soul for… IPOD nano.  My circle of friends by the way is mostly parents of the 8 and under crowd.  So we press on to the holiday spirit and the giving of it all. Certainly not the getting!   No, no.  I have heard it said, even from my own lips,  “Christmas is so fun with kids!”  The wonder of it all.  As I went on one of my pilgramages of shopping, you know, for just the few things we were getting, those words were swirling around my head like the proverbial suger plums.  It occured to me that Christmas was about Christ. I know funny thing to have just occur to someone, but really.  We always get our kids the three gifts of the wise men. Practical, spiritual and extravegant.  Simple enough.  Still there is stress. Will they like what we have chosen?  Will the extravegant be grand enough? Will the spiritual convey Christ fully?  Will they roll their little eyes at the practical?  So we search each year for the perfect thing, as I was doing upon my revelation.  I was in Wal-Mart in a HUGE line at 8:30 at night, just picking up a few last minute things.  I saw faces of the customers frustrated by the lines and the lack of merchandise so close to Christmas.  It’s all about Christ, and yet here I am trying to get those last few things.  Why?  I should be home reading the story of Christ to my children.  Truth be told, some nights I go shopping alone with my Starbucks so I can like my children even more.  But on this night, I thought ‘this is silly.’  I wanted to get on the loud speaker and say” Attention shoppers!!! Your kids won’t care if you get them any of that stuff!! Go home! Spend time with them! Get a fun family game and play it!”  As you can imagine, I didn’t do that.  It’s not that I think Wal-Mart is all that great, I just hate the thought of being banned from any store.  Maybe I could just whisper it to the person next to me.  No, too weird.  The weird part being that I would be chatting with a stranger, something I am often accused of doing and this night seemed all too inappropriate.  So I stood in line, silently, thinking about all the “perfect” gifts I had already purchased.  Oh dear! I had forgotten the spiritual gifts!  Of all the things.  I had been so busy trying to think of the other things and baking and mailing and all that, that I completely missed it.  By 9:00pm I was at the Christian bookstore, searching for just the right gift of a spiritual nature.  Something that shows my kids, ” see guys this is what Christmas is all about”.  What am I, Linus?  Linus has it all over me this year I’m afraid.  By 9:45pm I had found it.  A sweet Bible for my girl, a fun devotional for the big boy and a cute little first bible for the baby. Perfect. Still, the thoughts kept coming back, sticking with the true meaning.  After awhile I had brushed those thoughts aside and had a more lofty thought.  Tomorrow I would be diligent and read the Bible more to the kids, and we’d have hot cocoa and listen to Christmas songs together. We’d play games, and draw.  Just let me get my things done I need to for Christmas.  After all, it was coming pretty fast this year.  It was on the 25th you know.  Is it the same day every year?

As I left the store, I realized I needed to find a bathroom.  I am 7 months pregnant and so, well, nature calls way more than I have time for.  Alas, I head to Target, because it’s close and oh, I forgot to pick up those few school lunch items.  Off we go!  I headed into the bathroom and was immediatley grateful I am past all the nausea of the first trimester. The bathroom would make a sailor sick.  Almost every toilet had a keeper.  Ask any foreman and they’ll tell you what a keeper is, but I’d rather let you imagine at this point.  I finally find one, only to find it has pee spots on the seat. Seriously, I don’t live in the crack neighborhood where someone might be too strung out to realize they have just sprinkled a little blessing on the seat. So I moved on. Finally, I really did find a stall. I went in, did my business, which was growing more urgent by the minute. I looked over for the toilet paper… none. Perfect. What do you do in these situations? I was in a panic. It had been a stressful day after all. I remembered that our family had just been plagued by a nasty cold and so as all good moms should I had a pack of tissues in my purse. A silent prayer that they’d still be and eureka! They are! Saved. As I left the bathroom, hands washed, especially after that scene, I thought again. See, this is why I should be home. At least to be snuggling my husband and chatting. I believe that digusting bathroom was for me. Really. Placed there by God Himself to show me what my life over the past few weeks had been like. My kids have plenty of goodies. My husband and I have an abundance of goodies. I didn’t need to be out shopping. I should have considered myself done shopping. Going into a rat hole of a restroom in North Dallas was just the remedy I needed. I could have been home in my own warm house where I knew the TP was in abundance. I should know, I’m the one who replaces it!
As it turned out, I did start doing a few more Christmasy things with everyone. We did have hot cocoa, and read more, and listen to music, and watched a few of the old movies. But still, I felt as though I had missed it.
A few days later Christmas came with all it’s excitement. Our sweet children, the ones who I was concerned needed the perfect gifts, spent a half hour looking at their new Bibles. They were so thrilled with that they didn’t really think of the other things piled under the tree. When we mentioned they should start opening their other gifts, they opened one at a time, took the time to play with each new item and were so grateful for every one. Three gifts per child is alot in a family of three kiddos. I watched them and realized, somehow they got it. All my time spent away from them buying the perfect thing, they got it. Not because of my purchases, but because God knew my heart. Somehow He shined through my blunders of trying to make it all just so. To me that was the best gift of all. Knowing that God will meet my kids, right where I have made a mess of things.

The dreaded birthday party

Well, today you may have heard the sounds of the world closing in, or at the very least, seen the sky darken and children running in terror. No? Didn’t see that? Me neither. This was actually what I thought would happen if I ever set foot again in the Golden Arches, you know the place I’m talking about. Or heaven forbid if I chose as a caring parent to feed this sub-par food to my precious children or unborn baby. I would sooner give them a cigarette and say “Light up baby!” than take them to the axis of evil to eat. But as all weird ideas go, they must be challenged at some point. So it is with my obsession to stay clear of the most popular fast food restaurant in the world. I even cringe to call it a restaurant. To me, a place that I would consider worthy of that title would have food that won’t kill you. Call me crazy. Okay, some of you already have.

My daughter Eden was invited to a birthday party there recently, for her BEST friend. We couldn’t even try to skip it. Eden would never hear of it, and if I had said we couldn’t go for some lame reason, she’d surely never forgive me, and more than likely be telling her shrink in twenty years about the time her mother didn’t let her go to her best friend’s party all because the food was less than desirable. So of course we accepted the invite. For two weeks I fretted over whether to take all of us there or let my husband take the two older ones. After all, he jumped at the chance to go, he knows I’ll never go with him, or even be able to reconcile that in our marriage if he went just for lunch on his own some day. Yes, I have problems. The day came. At 3 o’clock, my fast food lovin’ husband says, “Well, you going?” I decide it wasn’t worth it to make our baby Canon stay home. After all, he’d never enjoyed the goodness of artery clogging fries and chicken part nuggets. Why not!

The whole way over my heart is racing, and I am praying that they don’t keel over right there in the restaurant due to heart failure. It really bothered me.

I do have valid reasons by the way for my freakish behavior. I have a friend who is a nutrition expert and she does an experiment with a hamburger from this establishment. It is three years old and looks as though she bought it that day. Shouldn’t food go bad? Not even the bread is moldy. It’s much more effective if you can see it, but try to imagine. I believe food should at some point break down.

As we were there, not only did I allow my precious treasures, who God has entrusted to me by the way, to eat this C-R-A-P, but I actually ordered something; the least offensive thing on the menu, a grilled chicken something. I am still telling myself it was really chicken. It’s not as though we are in another country where the eating of domestic animals is common; hard to tell though sometimes. I ate my food, and you know something? I survived. No really! I actually didn’t drop dead then and there. None of my fellow hippie, granola friends died of shame. My husband said, “We could come here once a year!” Yea don’t count on it mister. The worst part was, my baby Canon, who has boycotted chicken of any kind in the past couple of months, devoured the nuggets. GROSS!!!! He’ll eat that slop, but not Weir, TX BBQ?!?! That boy has something to learn about culinary taste.

We left the ‘restaurant’, unscathed, and full. The sun was shining, the birds were still singing, and you know, I believe my husband had a little spring in his step. Maybe once a year wouldn’t be bad. Maybe I could lighten up on the choices for fast food. And maybe, just maybe, hell will freeze over tonight.

Why have children anyway?

Recently a friend asked me how I went on to want more children. The only answer I could give her was,” I just love them.” I’m sure she was thinking, wow! How profound. Can you sense my sarcasm? She was struggling with those first few months of parenting and needed some hope for the future. To my dismay, I didn’t have any hope for her. Parenting is hard. Sometimes it stinks. Literally depending on what the child has eaten. J I told her as much and she seemed relieved that I was so honest with her. Most well meaning veteran parents tell you how wonderful parenting is, likening it to some grand experience never known before. Most of those parents also say their children slept through the night at eight weeks. They lie. They must. After having three very different children, how is it that I didn’t get one who slept through the night until almost a year. Not one of them! I’m sure many of you are already lining up reasons why they didn’t and all the ways I went wrong so they would have slept better. So be it, but I tell myself that to feel better. After all, there are so many things I have goofed on, let me live in my fantasy that other parents simply lie to look good. Sleep is such a precious commodity to us that once a child actually does sleep we feel the need to let the world know exactly when they did it! Same with potty training, butt I digress.

I left my conversation with my friend feeling foolish, feeling like I let her down. After all, I have been in this game for six years and surely I could have come up with something better than, “ I just love them.” This has plagued me for awhile now, consuming more of my thoughts than I care to admit. Why did we want more children? Why two or three or even more crazy four!! There has to be a reason. Here’s some that I have heard. “Oh, it’s the way they look when they are sleeping at night. Like little angels.” Lame. Not only a bad reason, it’s a little self-centered to want more kiddos because they give you a warm fuzzy. Another I have come across is, “ When your child says,’ I love you momma’, your heart just melts!” Also lame, and also self-centered. We can’t just bring human beings into the world for self-centered reasons. I was struggling with the fact I had no idea why we had more children. I knew I enjoyed it, but there had to be a reason. I tend to over think things by the way.

Finally it hit me today as I was reading my Bible. In Psalm 127, God says that children are a reward from Him. He also says that we will be happy, or blessed with children. Really? Even though parenting is difficult, even though it’s not all that rewarding at times, God still says children are a reward? Okay, I’m listening. He says blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. Let’s give a shout out to the families who have sixteen kids! They must be really blessed! The conclusion I came to was, God says they are a blessing. As I thought back on my six whole years of parenting, I realized, He is right. Go figure, the Creator of the universe knows what is right. Raising my tribe has been challenging at times. In fact, when I think of it, it is often challenging. They have their own agenda, which doesn’t fit with mine very often. I am also reminded that in that way, I am very much like my children. God often has something for me, and yet I tend to say, “No, my way God!” Could it be that having children is a reflection of our relationship to Him? I am fully convinced it is. In His grace and mercy though, He showers me with blessings through my child rearing days, even when I have failed Him and the kids miserably. This also happens all too often.

So why have more? Well, I suppose it’s because God says they are a gift from Him. That may sound self-centered also, but when the Creator of the world offers you a gift, would you turn it down because you might get too much out of it? You’d be a fool. Perhaps in another bit of writing I will ramble on and on about the blessings God has given me through my children. There are so many it would take me a lifetime. Answering prayers that otherwise would seem simple or unimportant; carrying me through one of the most difficult loses ever. Or just giving me the strength to honor Him another day by what I say and do to my children. This is why I have continued my journey of adding to the Weir, TX population.

I’m bored!!

“What is there to do? We’re bored!” Sound familiar? Well, in our home these
are foreign words. They are words that are not allowed to be uttered in
front of an adult for fear it might come back to them in the form of some
dreaded weed pulling or other house work. Well, these were words I have
heard a little too often this summer from friends who have frequented our
house. On one such occasion, one of the little treasures proceeded to tell
me she NEEEEEEDED a Nintendo DS because she gets so bored at home. Needed?
She explained that there’s nothing to do at home and after all a person
could only watch so much tv. Seriously? She’s 6! How is it possible that
the world is so dull to her already that she needs constant stimulation? How
did these children become so jaded at such a young age? When I was a kid,
especially at my grandma’s house, you never said you were bored or asked to
watch tv. You would wind up with a rag in one hand and Pledge in the other.
Oh and by the way, you didn’t get paid for it. Can you imagine the child
abuse that went on?? How cruel and cold the world was for my generation.
As I thought about this interaction of needs and desires of 6 year olds, I
was reminded of a batch e-mail that went out awhile back. It said something
to the effect that those of us in my generation, born before 1980, were some
of the most creative, inventive, and adventurous people the planet has
known. Now, I realize that sounds a bit arrogant, but hear me out. As a
whole, my generation tended to take risks. Remember sitting in the back of
pick up trucks, all the way to San Francisco? That one was for my mom.
Remember no seat belts? Remember doing cherry drop flips off the monkey bars
over concrete? I imagine there were a few head injuries, but we weren’t so
fearful. I grew up in So. Cal, and we would spend hours at the beach. This
is were I learned to swim. We would go and play in the water, my mom may
have been in the water or not. As I got older I am sure she hung out on the
beach a little and swam a little, meaning there were times when I could go
in the water by myself. My friends and I would go in, body surf and get out
only to find ourselves four or five life-guard stations away from where we
started. Can anyone relate? As I write this, I cringe to think about my
little ones swimming alone at the beach, mostly because of all the trash
and needles they may encounter. I want them to be risk takers. I want them
to have a lust for life and all that this life has to offer. As it is now
one of my children is cautious to a fault. Maybe he will just be a
conservative little adult. One of my other children on the other hand is a
certified risk taker. She’s frightening really. And, as always, the
verdict is still out on tiny.

I realize I want my children to take risks, and to enjoy this life that God
has given them. As I pray daily for our children, one of my prayers is they
would use the wisdom God has given them in order to discern whether a risk
is worth it. I sit here and try to imagine what that might be. Sky diving?
Base jumping? Leaving everything and becoming a missionary in the deepest
darkest places of the world? Who knows. I pray they would not be conformed
to the patterns of the world around them, playing mind numbing games for
hours, or watching mindless tv for longer than that. Or worse yet, sitting
around saying “I’m bored!” Being bored should be illegal. I can just
imagine getting a ticket for uttering those dreadful words. Eventually, the
penalty may be one couldn’t buy video games, or movies, or pool toys again
because they have allowed themselves to have a lack of imagination. Yes you
heard me, I believe pool toys create a lack of imagination. I have only
heard one time kids playing Marco Polo. Maybe it’s unsafe. You know having
your eyes closed and wandering around a pool. Who knows. In any case, the
food for thought may be, are we raising namby pamby boring people who never
think outside the box, therefore making this the safest yet dullest time the
world has ever known? As a self proclaimed adventure girl, I shudder to
think of such a tragedy!

Another bit of, what I know so far….

I have wrestled with doubt and fear most of my adult life. As I see my oldest child struggle with worry, I feel sad for him. It has taken me eight long years to release life and circumstances to God on a daily basis, and my prayer for that boy of mine is that he would trust in Christ at a young age and fully release any concern he has to Him.
With the recent news of our new addition, you can imagine I would start to worry a bit. It’s a minute by minute battle in my mind. My back was hurting earlier today and it took me right back to the day I miscarried our second baby. When I don’t feel sick, I wonder what could be wrong. Instead, what I ought to be thinking is, “ Hooray! I am feeling great today!” As I mentioned, this one was quite a surprise. One might think I shouldn’t care either way. I mean after all, I already have three kids and why get greedy? I was asking myself, and more importantly God that question the other day. Why me? Why did you chose me to have another baby? I have several friends who can not have children of their own, or have been trying to have a second or even third child only to have God say no, or not right now. We weren’t even asking for this. Why would He allow us this blessing and not someone else? We feel grateful and unworthy.

Funny how when circumstances are bad, we say “why me” as well. When we lose a loved one, or a job, or have a simple let down like a car problem, we say, ‘why me?” My mom once answered that with, “Why not?” That has stuck with me all these years. You see, we question God in His goodness based on a human perspective. We think He should act in accordance with what we deem to be the right thing. After all, if we were God we would….. heaven help us all right? We see tragedy on the news and wonder why is that happening to those poor people? Yet right after, we hop into our lushy plushy car and head to Starbucks because after all, we’ve had a hard day. Forgive my ranting on the subject. Living in North Dallas can make one get a little koo-koo when it comes to seeing unnecessary excess. When we ask ‘why me?’ in a bad circumstance, I wonder how often we ask ‘why me?’ in a good one. Why were we born in this country? That blessing alone begs the question. Why do we have free education available to us? I had a hard time this year with all the fund raisers at my son’s school. Criminy! We pay a lot in school tax and then they want more to build an outdoor something or other. Heaven forbid my child should do without some luxury. He may just have to use his imagination. Poor thing! It’s not that I mind giving money; I might be sounding a bit miserly now. Not at all. I mind giving money to an already over-saturated school system. I mind not getting that money to someplace down about 30 minutes from here to schools that are just trying to survive; to schools who need after school activities because the parents work and kids might go home alone if they don’t stay at the school. I mind giving more to folks who already have tons.

Does God mind giving to those who have tons? Apparently not. He delights in it. We might ask, why does He lavish us when we already have so much? I usually come up with one answer – so that we can in turn give to those who don’t. Now, I am not saying I am going to give away my baby to a family who can’t have one. I am saying we should look in all our abundance and see what we could give. You heard me, give. Not sell to the highest bidder, but give, with an open hand.

I don’t know why God chose to give my husband and I another sweet angel. We don’t deserve it. I do know it has caused me to be even more grateful for the things I do have, for the things He has lavished on me, and to be grateful for the things He has allowed to pass me by.

Life is funny…

It’s funny how God works in your life. There is a great song that we sing at church, “Blessed be the Name of the Lord”. The song speaks of praising God in the good and bad. I remember it was one of my dad’s favorites and when I sing it I imagine he’s singing along, but with the Lord. Cool thought for sure. For the past three years I have literally had little or no control in what happens in my life. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Through rough circumstances and great ones, God has proven Himself faithful over and over. In fact, He has blessed my family in ways I couldn’t have even imagined. We have all new family room furniture that we didn’t pay for. We didn’t steal it, it was a gift. This is just one of the many, many ways He has showered us. So, you might imagine what a great comfort that is to me, especially finding out recently that I am expecting another baby. Some of you that have known me awhile might say, “doesn’t that make 7 pregnancies??”. Yep, sure does. We have 3 live babies and three that are with Jesus already. This one is our unexpected blessing. As I told Marck, I was worried that he’d freak, or cry or go get a second job. If you have seen the way our kids eat, you’d understand. But he didn’t. He just said,” wow! Ok, this is a blessing! How great!”. I love his excitement. At the time all I could think of was we gave away every baby item we don’t need anymore, and that I am about to embark on yet another weight gaining binge. Super. The weight comes off easy enough, that shouldn’t bother me. Still, my waist line will be expanding.
We told our kiddos last night and they seemed ok at first. Then Zion got particularly weepy. Actually both the older ones did, for various reasons. After staying up way past bedtime to discuss and talk about how great it will be, they seemed at peace. For now.
As I came downstairs after our talk, I realized, life IS going to be different. Life was very different after each addition we’ve had. In the end, it has been amazing and I wouldn’t trade any single moment of it. As the song says, “my heart will chose to say, blessed be Your name”. I am choosing to bless God, and thank Him for unannounced miracles. You know I also love getting wisdom from movies, very theological. In the immortal words of Mrs. Gump, “ life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re going to get.” Well, she left out something. We don’t know, but I know the One who does, and I trust Him fully and completely.

1950’s family

Marck often jokes and says we are a 1950’s family, you know the wife stays home, the husband goes off to work, comes home at 5:30 to dinner finished and on the table. (Well, almost on the table J) The kids are usually waiting on the curb for daddy to come home. The kids even play a game in which Eden cooks dinner for the boys, and Canon and Zion play fireman while they wait for their dinner. We wouldn’t have it any other way to be sure. Some days if feels so out of the norm that it gets a little lonely. Most of my friends have other jobs, either outside the home or a home based business so that doesn’t always leave them much time to just hang out. My friends who don’t work at all have their kids in one activity after another, which is almost like having a job. So there isn’t much room there for just hangin’ either. I was feeling pitiful the other day, thinking “I had lots of friends to pal around with in CA, what happened here in Texas?”. Different culture, different priorities. I am not sure. We have been here three years and still don’t really have friends that we see often. I joke a lot and say if I didn’t do my friends hair, I’d never see them. Joke or not, the truth is I rarely see people outside of haircuts. Now, you could say I could take that personally, but I have too high of a self esteem for that to get me down. No one would get their haircut by someone they didn’t like. So right there, I’m good. Busy lives and schedules keep friends apart. If you aren’t doing the same activity, you don’t have the luxury of seeing friends. Believe me that is a luxury! I recently had two good friends move back to where they were from originally, and let me tell you, that left quite a void. One of them was such an inspiration to me. I remember her saying she never did more than one thing in a day. She would go to the library, then home. Or maybe dance class, then home. I finally found my kindred spirit. I am not knocking folks who bust out 5 errands in one day. In fact, I applaud them for their courage! J For me, it’s exhausting to shlep three small people here, there and everywhere. My friend was great because I knew she’d be home by early afternoon and we could gab on the phone if everyone was having a quiet time. The other thing I liked is she didn’t always answer her phone. Something I am famous for. Even my husband stalks me if I don’t pick up after the 4th or 5th time he calls. Like my friend, I couldn’t be bothered with whoever was on the phone if I was busy doing something else, like playing Lego’s or dollies or sitting on my fanny watching Oprah. Busy is busy. J Back to my friend, I knew if she picked up, she really had the time.
Wistfully I think about our culture and our society especially here in North Dallas and I wish we were a little slower. When we moved here I really did think I was moving to Hicksville. Being from CA I never imagined that Texas was anything but backwards and slow. Imagine my shock. Quite the opposite. Turns out we were the Hillbillies. J I could always picture myself on a porch swing sippin’ mint juleps or lemonade fanning myself, hollering at my kids to come in for supper. Apparently I also like to day dream.
Well, that’s not what it’s like here and neither of us is going to change, me or North Texas. So in my pitiful, lonely days, I remember that God has called us here to this fast paced suburb for this time, and that sometimes it’s ok to not do what everyone else is doing. That also, it is ok to be lonely, it’s not a bad thing. Lonely is really a state of mind. You’ve heard the saying, “ you could be lonely in a room full of people”. It’s more about what you make of a situation.

Another typical day….

Thursday was an interesting day. I am often struck with unbelief by the people who come across my path. Sometimes I can’t believe a human being can be so self absorbed. For instance, I thought it would be fun to take our kiddos to the local spray ground, you know get wet, cool off, and run off some steam. We rode our bikes, well, make that I rode a bike with a little camper on the back that princess Eden and prince Canon sat in, then Zion had to ride his scooter the whole way. You would have thought I asked him to ride to Mexico with the way he was carrying on. “It is really a long way momma!” It’s .5 miles. Not that far. Poor kid, he’s quite abused.

We were having a super fun time, running through the sprayers and getting each other wet. I really didn’t want to be that wet, so I sat down and just watched everyone splashing. Canon had met a friend I saw. It looked like they might have fun together, and I was glad to see him being social. This new little friend was drinking from one of the sprayers, gross!! I looked over at his mom, who was yappin’ it up on the cell phone, I know, shocking, and she didn’t say anything. Ok, maybe she didn’t care if her child got some sick disease from drinking out of recycled water. Whatever. Then, this little spawn spit the water right in Canon’s face. As only a mother can I yelled,” oh sick!!” and ran over to rescue my sweet baby. I then proceeded to tell that child in no uncertain terms that this was disgusting and you just can’t spit in someone’s face. The mom was not far behind me, and I heard her getting off her phone call in order to make the kid come and apologize. I didn’t want an apology I realized, justice, that’s what I wanted. A forced “I’m sorry”, is not going to get that gross spit water off my sweet baby’s face now is it? He apologizes, I say, “we forgive you”. In the words of my husband ”Once more with feeling!” I am talking about me. I didn’t want to forgive him, but Jesus says it’s pretty much the right thing to do.

Wait there was more to my day! After that, we went next door to swing and slide at the park. The next encounter was with a mom of twins who was force-feeding them ice cream. I am not lying. Forcing them. The weird thing was they just wanted to swing. Which is what we were doing. She kept saying sort of loudly that there was only one swing, and there are two of them. It wouldn’t be fair if only one of them could swing, so they had to just eat their ice cream. It wasn’t a ”Here, wanna a bite?” it was “ Eat your ice cream!!!” I was waiting for the swear words to start flowing. I finally couldn’t take it and said, “ Here have our swing”. She then went on to say, “No they don’t need to swing, they can do that at home. I want them to eat this ice cream.” I started to wonder if there were sleeping pills or something in the ice cream. I have never seen a parent force ice cream on a child. We left our swing anyway and let her work it out.

As I rode home I was thinking how unbelievable people are. Then it hit me… I have NO idea what those families days had been like and what a wretch I am for even judging them. I feel like the gross one now. You see, when I lost our third baby, Judah, two weeks later I was at a park and there was a family of three kids. I was with my two at the time. I was just getting out of the house trying to do something other than be sad. The mom proceeded to tell me how lucky I was because I only had two children. Hers were such a burden she said. She kept going on and on. It was truly only because of God that I didn’t just spill my guts and tell her how stupid she was for saying such a thing. Instead I just said nothing. She didn’t know. How could she have. If she did, I am quite sure she would have been embarrassed and mortified. Instead of being angry at her I decided that I would always watch what I say and how I judge folks. There is a song, and I don’t know the name or anything but it basically says, “they don’t know what you’re going through”. Everybody is lost in their own little world. I was so caught up in the woman being on her cell phone and assuming she was just selfish that I didn’t stop to think, maybe today is a bad day. Maybe she was just trying to survive Thursday. Her boy spitting was the last thing she may have needed.

So now I am back to trying not to judge, because I don’t know what anyone is going through. Even if they are having the best day ever, it’s not my place to assume the worst. Jesus said, “Love your enemies, bless those who curse you”. Shame on me for not allowing that to be my first response.