small things {tangled}

small things #56 ... tangled

It's a quarter after two in the afternoon and the fan above our bed spins lazily.  It just barely moves the still, warm air.  Liddy and I are snuggled in bed - eyes drowsy and breathing deeply.

One chubby arm lays across my shoulder.  A blue and red paint smudge still clings to her skin.  One arm lies across her back, pulling her close.

One dimpled hand clutches the green chenille throw blanket between us.  One hand is tucked under her back, still smelling of the warm vanilla lotion we put on before climbing into bed.

One set of knees folded up to her chin - ankles crossed and pudgy toes tucked under the blanket.  One set of knees bent and snuggled around her balled-up form.

One forehead smooth and peaceful with dark and damp wisps of hair curled against her sleeping face.  One forehead creased and furrowed - trying to cast off the worry and work that crawled into bed with me.

Who is who?

Who is helping who hold still enough to rest?

Who is helping who nap?

Tangled ... a heavenly knot of nappers on a Saturday afternoon.

small things {slow mornings}

small things #35 ... slow mornings

Today is Aaron's last day as a fourth grader.  

Today is Norah's last day as a third grader.  

And today is Ashley's last day as a wee kindergartener.

Tomorrow morning when we wake up, we aren't going anywhere.  At all.

We will stay in our pj's.  We will mosey through our breakfast.  We will watch 8:50 tick across the clock and laugh about being "late to school".  We will opt to stay in our favorite comfies for the day.  We will ponder what movie to watch and pop some popcorn.  We will eventually have lunch.  We will possibly consider a trip to the store.  Or not.  We will play a game.  Or two. We will snuggle and read a bit.

In the afternoon we will have to head out for Norah's gymnastics class, but then it's out to dinner and home again.  To return to pj's, family time and just hanging out.

Could you hear my sigh?  It went a little something like ... 

aaaaaahhhhhhaaaaaaaa ... uhhhhhhaaaaahhhhh.

Slow mornings ... what I love most about summer vacation.

__________________________________

#5 - What about school do you miss the least?  The hustling, bustling, tussling to get out the door by 8:30.  With smiles on our faces.

small things {bedtime}

small things #12 ... bedtime

Wacky Wednesday wore me out!  

Seven to one.  Odds against Mom.

At 9:02 pm, I walked out of my daughters' hot pink room, listened to their chatter start up (whisper, whisper, giggle), treaded down the hall to my room, laid down on my bed and felt that familiar wave of exhaustion wash over me.

Deep down in my body, I was so very tired.  Little tears snuck out; soaked up by my pillow.  Brett rubbed my back, granting release from any more "I need's" or "help me's".  Permission to lay here and sniffle a little. Not in a poor me-way, but in a wow - that was a doozy and it's okay to be exhausted-way.

In the quietness of the night, I read and I Scrambled and I breathed.  

All by myself.

Bedtime ... the bliss of silence and a chance to be recharged for the next day.  

Because it will be wacky, too.

small things {soury guys}

small things #9 ... soury guys

We pull up to the crosswalk.

"Hey, Mom!  Nobody take our spot!"

"Nope.  We are a little bit early.  The kids don't get of school for about ... 10 more minutes."

"I have a soury guy?"

"Sure.  Just one."

Soury guys.  Our little nickname for the super-duper zippy Icebreaker Sour Candies.  Within that little green plastic case lies a handful of zingy-zangy bites.

"I not have two last time."

"Okay.  This time we're just having one."

"I do it myself.  Here, Mommy."

"Ashley, do you want one?"

"Yes, please.  I'm going to make mine last until the kids get here."

We each sit for a few minutes, the tangy treat on our tongues.  It's quiet in the van as we wait and let the candies melt.  Or at least, two of us do.

crunch, crunch, crunch ... "I bite it lots."

"I'm still sucking on mine. Look it's smaller."

"Mines is lots and lots of little parts.  See?"

"Hmmm ... mine is getting smaller, too."

The bell rings.  The galloping hordes of students pour out of the doors.

My soury guy is almost just a speck.

"Mom.  My soury guy got so small, I lost it."

"Me, too, Honey.  It just got smaller and smaller until it was gone."

"I have more soury guy, Mommy?"

"Not now.  Maybe in a bit.  That was fun to see how small it could get.  Here come the kids!"

Soury guys ... savoring a sweat treat, simple silliness with my girls ... 

and a little peace and quiet.

small things {stopping}

small things #8 ... stopping

One thing I love about having a baby around is the built-in, have-to-stop-and-put-your-feet-up, take-a-deep-breath moments during the day.  It's true that life around here is go, go, go! ... but twice a day, little Baby S needs a bottle and a cuddle and I need time to stop and breathe.

Working together, we both get our needs met.

Sitting, snuggling, slurping.

Green light!

Go.

Stopping ... where a baby, a bottle, the La-Z-Boy and I intersect.

Well Fed

This weekend, I got to spend quality time with some of my favorite ladies.

Sitting with my mom, a creamy and sweet cup of coffee in my hands while still in my pj's.  Time to be heard with no interruptions; no need to start and restart and start and restart the same thought.  Time to laugh at the funny (and not so funny) aspects of being a mom.  Time to be encouraged.  My heart was filled.

Working side-by-side in the kitchen with my sister.  Laughing and reminiscing about middle school fashion shows and awkward moments.  Chopping veggies and snitching baby green asparagus pieces.  Marveling at the intoxicating smells of the dish she is preparing.    My stomach was filled.

Squawking along with Sara Groves in the car.  Three hours all told; just the two of us driving along in the car.  Hearing her words speak the stilted stutters of my heart ... again.   A few brief tears, a smattering of goose bumps, a renewed spirit.  My soul was filled.

Yes, I ran away for the weekend, but this time not out of desperation.  This was intentional.  This was planned weeks ago.  It was, of course, choreographed by God.  After my previous tear-filled flight to Montrose, I have been trying to be more intentional about giving myself some breaks.  Choosing to be purposeful in not filling my proverbial plate has been a blessing.  For me and my family.

Besides trying to deliberately minimize the commitments I say, "Yes", to, I have also begun a beautiful tradition of a Sabbath week.  It looks a little like this ...

I highlight the week on the kitchen calendar, declaring this week off-limits for chaos.

No extra errands.
No play dates.
No meetings.
No doctor's appointments.

I stay home.

I look a project in the eyes and tackle it.  All the way to the miraculous end.
I sit on the floor and play Candyland.  And then maybe Chutes & Ladders.
I make a list and cross a few things off.  And shrug off the to-do's that linger.
I tackle the usual tasks.  The laundry, gymnastic trips and meals are a must.
I breathe grace in and breathe grace out.  For me and my kids.

I truly wish I could dress every week up for its own Sabbath rest.  But life has it's own demands.  For now, my one week a month will do.

This weekend was a wonderful spring board for my upcoming week.

I am well fed and ready to rest.

Bag O' Glass

I currently have a bag of glass sitting on my dining room table.

Which, of course, brings to mind this memorable Dan Aykroyd skit from SNL.


This bag of glass is as a result of one of my wall hangings leaping from its hook on the wall and plummeting to the tile floor below.  In the hustle and bustle of making dinner I managed to sweep up the broken pieces and dispose of them, but the cross-stitch, frame and remaining jagged shards were quickly slipped into a bag and deposited on the table until I could take care of it.

I haven't gotten to it yet.

This same dining room table is also currently a fort.  Every spare blanket in the house has been rubber-banded to the chairs creating a super-cool hide-out filled with books, pillows, stuffed animals (no Chainsaw Teddy Bears, of course) and a treasure trove of odds and ends.  Our dining room table has been a fort for over a week, even though it was scheduled for demolition days ago.  I know that once I get the blankets off, there will be a good 45 minutes of toy and book relocation and time has been tight.

So I just haven't tackled it yet.

I walked into the kitchen just a bit ago and noticed that there is a sizable collection of crumbs, dog hair, grass clippings and crunchiness along the baseboard under the dishwasher.  My eyes followed the baseboard around the rest of the kitchen floor and I shuddered to imagine the amount of nastiness that needs to be swept up. I know that it would just take me a minute, but quite honestly I don't feel like I have that minute to spare.

I'll have to clean that later.

I have a load of odds and ends sitting in the dryer.  It's been there for two days.  I tossed in the load of towels and napkins and completely forgot about them.  That is until I was looking for the napkins for dinner, which meant I resorted to pulling out some left-over Christmas ones.  Perfect.  I will take care of that load of laundry soon.  But only because the kids are running out of pants that fit!

I guess I'll get to it eventually.

We got our new couch four days ago.  On the very first afternoon it was here, I noticed that the chaise end of the couch sits in the sun for about an hour every day from around 2:00 to 3:00.  I told myself, "I'm going to park myself on that end of the couch, close my eyes and melt.  If only for 20 minutes.  It would totally recharge me."  I have yet to take advantage of that sunny spot.

I haven't squeezed that in yet.

As a mom, you now how it goes.  The tyranny of the urgent.  When the day starts at 6:21 and zooms along until bedtime, you face that pesky list of "gotta-do's" (feed kids, grocery shop, drive kids to school, keep up with little people) while many of those "someday I'll" projects get shuffled to the side.

There's a little girl that is wandering around the house right now looking for someone to play with.  She is eager for her sister to wake up so they can be silly together, but in order for our baby sissy to be silly and not cranky, she needs to sleep a little longer.  Even though I would love to sit here a bit longer and maybe toodle around Pinterest, I think I'll take advantage of this "just you and me" time and cuddle with my Ashley.

My one-on-one time with LeLe (like the sunshine warming the end of the couch) is fleeting.  As for the household chores, they'll still be there.  Guaranteed.

“Show me, LORD, my life’s end 
   and the number of my days; 
   let me know how fleeting my life is." (Psalm 39:4)


.... so that I'll be quick to enjoy the things that really matter.

I wrote this post last Friday afternoon ... I am happy to report that I did get to hang over the cushion of the chaise couch in the sunshine and play a game of Fluxx with Ashley.  I think she let me win.


This weekend the fort was dismantled with some help from Daddy and the bag of glass has been disposed of.  As for the crumbs ... they're still there.

Thankfulness {day five}

Today is the day when a good number of our country's population flood the stores and fill their carts with loads of toys, clothes, electronics and other gift items all at rock bottom prices.  (Actually I guess they started last night, which ranks right up there with crazy and absurd.)

Today is the day when I ponder not actually getting dressed.  I mean, I'll probably change out of my pajamas, but I'll most likely end up in something else equally comfy.  (Getting dressed with the sole purpose of lounging around ranks right up there with silly and foolish.)

I am actually quite intentional about having a wardrobe that doesn't just consist of knit pants and sloppy shirts.  I feel better about me when I wear flattering clothing ... jeans that fit and slim me down in all the right places with a top that not only compliments my figure, but enhances the good parts.

But on days like today, I'm intending to forgo fashion and enjoy a little something comfy.  My anticipated outfit of today consists of my GoodWill-found, coffee-colored fleece pants.  The tag says, "Old Navy".  I say, "Favorite pants ever."  They are warm, cushy and their elastic waist band will make my midsection oh-so-happy today ... just in case Thanksgiving dinner takes an encore!

I also packed my newish knit poncho.  This is my slightly more fashionable and significantly more functional Snuggie.  I'm not entirely certain what Stacy & Clinton would say about this addition to my wardrobe.  I think it's cute and I love how I feel five degrees warmer within a few moments of putting it on!  And when I go to the kitchen for another cup of tea, I don't have to unwrap first or drag it along behind me.

It's not so much that I'm thankful for my couch potato clothes, but I am grateful that today is a day to be a couch potato.  An extra family day this week without a schedule to keep!  I would love to find a verse hidden away somewhere in Isaiah that encourages us to take one day to stay in our comfyiest of clothes ... but alas, my concordance doesn't turn up any such wisdom.

Neither could I find any Scripture references to setting aside a day to play Wii, work on a puzzle, nosh on Thanksgiving leftovers and spend most of the day curled up on the couch.  But I still think God will bless it!

Here's to taking time to recharge ... in our comfy-est clothes in the closet!

Thankfulness {day two}

The chime of the clock tells me it's two o'clock.  The baby girls went down for naps (or in Ashley's case, a mandatory stay-in-your-room-and-keep-the-volume-level-down-time) an hour ago. The past sixty minutes have not been idle.  I have travelled upstairs several times to shush Ashley, fold laundry and check on the sleepers.  I washed up lunch dishes and traded out a load of laundry.  I spent a few moments scooping up the toys that have been pollinated on the steps and under the dining room table.  I made a quick phone call and made an oops-I-forgot grocery list.  My to-do list sits on the kitchen counter and demands some attention.  But.

But.

But.

The corner of the couch is quietly calling my name.  For just forty-five minutes a day, the sunshine creeps in through the glass slider doors, crawls across the carpet and rests on the end of the couch.  Just forty-five minutes and only during these chilly months when the sun dips below the edge of the house.

I look at chicken lying frozen on the counter
 ... I should work on dinner.

I look at the pillows, plump and warm in the sunshine 

... I should rest a minute.

I look at the computer
 ... I haven't written anything all day.

I look at the quilt on the couch

 ... I haven't sat all day.

I look at the laundry
 ... It won't fold itself.

I look at the sunshine

 ... It won't last all afternoon.

The beckoning comfort of the slumpy, lumpy, sun-kissed couch wins out.

As I lean back into the cushions, I can feel the heat from the sun.  I pull the quilt across my lap, prop my feet on the ottoman and nestle back in the corner of the cushions.  The sun is so bright, I have to close my eyes against the glare.  The warmth, the comfort and the stillness are the ultimate trifecta for rest.

I guard myself against actually falling asleep, however.  If I nap, I know I'll spend the remainder of the afternoon trying to wake up!  But a few minutes of quiet are a enough to renew and refresh me.  I'm not ready, however, to move on.  I resist the urge to get back to the busy-ness of the day ... the never-ending chores that I'll never actually be done with.

I reach for my Bible on the end table next to the couch with the intention of reading a chapter or two from 2 Peter.  I am in the midst of a reading schedule that takes me through the Bible in chronological order ... all in one year.  I am currently in year two.  Another aspect of life I haven't been able to keep up with.

The brightness of the sun forces me to close my eyes again and as I sit there, I am reminded again of my tendency to be a do-er.  For right now, for the next thirteen minutes, I want to be a be-er.  I want to cast off the belief that my clean house, folded laundry and hot-n-ready dinner define me as a good wife and mother.  I want to cast off the belief that my not-on-schedule reading plan defines me as spiritually lacking.  I want to cast off the belief that my value and importance are defined by my productivity and performance.

Here on my sun-drenched corner of the couch, for a few brief minutes, I am free to just be.

⁸ For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— ⁹ not by works, so that no one can boast. (Ephesians 2:8-9, emphasis mine)

Not by super organization.
Not by incredible talents in the kitchen.
Not by faithfully caring for the laundry.
Not by stellar reading schedules.
Not by thoughtful and heartfelt essays.
Not by going and going and going.

But by grace.

That slouching, cozy, welcoming couch reminds me of God's grace.  And that's what I'm thankful for today.

Where do you find God's grace?  

It might be where you least expect it!

Washed on the Delicate Cycle

I was a little bit giddy as I loaded up the car last Friday.  As I backed out of the drive, my husband and kids stood on the front step waving.  A few "I love you" waves and I was on the road.  On my way to a girly weekend!

It wasn't until I was on the road that I realized how desperately I needed this time.  I had acknowledged in my head that I was a bit tapped out, physically and emotionally, but my heart had a whole lot more to say on the subject:

You are spread thin.
You have given all you have.
You are running on fumes.
You are headed for a breakdown.

And how did my heart communicate these facts to the rest of me?  With crazy crying!

Out of the blue, just as I hit the desert south of town, Sara Groves started singing, "Twice As Good", on the car stereo and it was all over!  Big, gulping-for-air Mommy-sobs.  Shoulder-shaking, body-wrenching, full-blown weeping.  Crying my eyes out and completely unable to control myself.  I was so glad I was alone!

Now ... let me say that I would not recommend blubbering and driving at the same time.  You run into such problems as feeling the need to set the cruise control at 50 mph ... a safe enough speed in your current sniveling situation, but resulting in piercing stares by the drivers shooting past you.  Peering into your car as you sob and sniffle.

If your waterworks are unexpected, you might find that your tissues are in short demand ... resulting in one sodden tissue being unable to hold up to the oh-so-necessary nose blow.  Trust me, it's not a pretty picture!

You also run the risk of arriving at your destination looking a bit raw:  red eyes, red nose and red streaked cheeks.  Nothing says, "I'm ready for fun!" like a bleary eyed guest arriving with smeared glasses and a sniffling nose.

I had not intended to spend the first 40 minutes of my weekend away wailing and weeping, but it was exactly what I needed.  I had inadvertently been tucking away a myriad of emotions over the past several weeks.  Each on their own, they were simple and manageable, but as they piled up inside, they had begun to churn.  Unbeknownst to me, there was a perfect storm brewing in my soul!

As I set my iPod to shuffle through my Sara Grove's albums, her words and God's truths came pouring out of the speakers and into my heart.  And those tears that had been stopped up, finally found an escape!

Now before you feel sorry for me, let me assure you that these were not "woe is me" tears or "I'm so blue" tears.  They were purely tears of release, renewal and relief.  These tears were washing over me (quite literally) with the purpose of freeing me.  With each song (and new torrent of tears!) ...

I felt my stress wash away, releasing me from my "should's" and "ought's".  

I felt my tension wash way, allowing my shoulders and neck relax. 

I felt my anxiety wash away, to be replaced with peace.

I fully believe that I didn't know what I needed, but God did and He took that time when I was quiet and a bit fragile to care for my heart.  In Romans 8, we read a lovely picture of the Holy Spirit's privileged ministry to us:

²⁶ In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. ²⁷ And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.

As I approached Delta, I felt that intense exhaustion that comes along with a good hard cry.  I felt like I had been rung out ... much like the clothes stuck to the side of the washer drum after the spin cycle.  I cautiously sniffled, listened to another beautiful song, "Small Piece of You", and didn't break out into a fresh wave of wailing.  I breathed deeply and felt only that precious sense of being emptied of heartache and waiting patiently to be filled up again.

In those final 20 minutes, my 48-hours of fun truly began.  Mat Kearny and I be-bopped our way to Montrose and when I arrived at the doorstep of my sister's house, my eyes had returned to their normal shade of blue, my nose was no longer sniffling, my shoulders were relaxed and my heart was read to be encouraged.  

I trusted God to use that time, my break from being "Mom", as an opportunity to fill me up.  

And He did.

But more on that tomorrow!

Day 1:  Mom in the Midst

Day 2:  My Button is Lame

Day 3:  Splendidly Lavish

Day 4:  Keeping My Head Above Water

Day 5:  Time-Warp Wednesday ~ Little Me

Day 6:  Me, Myself & I

Day 7:  Food For Though ~ Bacon

Day 8:  The Aches and Pains of Service

Day 9:  I Heart You

Day 10:  Who is Me? {part 1}

Day 11:  Who is Me? {part 2}

Day 12:  Who is Me?  {part 3}

Day 13:  Handmade with Care

Day 14:  Food For Thought ~ Carmel & Apples

Day 15:  A Bunch of Rocks

Day 16:  Not Recycled ... Redeemed

Day 17:  What Do You Do?

Day 18:  Washed on the Delicate Cycle

Shhh ... Don't Tell the Kids

Two Sunday's ago we had a doozy of a night.  It was bouncy, boisterous and bonkers!  We had enjoyed a relatively relaxing afternoon which meant the kids were cooped up and just barely containing themselves and their endless energy.  We finished our traditional dinner of shakes and popcorn just in time to catch the last quarter of the Steeler's and Jet's game.  Brett settled into the couch.  Aaron perched on the edge of the couch and the girls orbited the couch.

Within moments, Brett had turned up the volume in order to hear over the squealing giggles of the girls who had decided that the family room floor, three feet from the TV, was the perfect place to wrestle.  Thus began the internal battle for Aaron:  watch the game or tussle with the girls?  Watch?  Or, tussle?  Watch? .... Or, tussle?  Hmmm ... tussle!  He headed into the fray and Brett turned the TV up a notch.

Soon the tussle evolved into "Keep Away".  Aaron had a little rubber football and the girls pried, tickled, pounced, and wrenched.  They strategized how to disarm Aaron (not literally ... but close!) and how to thwart his attempts to wriggle away.  There was a lot of shouting (happy shouting, but shouting, nonetheless), bursts of laughter and plenty of thuds and thumps.  Brett just clicked the volume button.

And where was I, you ask?  Good question - but you have to keep this little secret to yourself.

I was washing dishes.  Happily.  In my (relatively) quiet kitchen.  Alone.  :)

As I stood there sudsing up the cups and bowls, I was so grateful that I had a job that kept me busy somewhere away from all the chaos!  At one point, Brett came upstairs to check on me and I assured him (with a big smile on my face!) I was just fine doing the dishes.  My hands were toasty warm.  And my ears weren't in need of ear-plugs.  He was probably hoping I needed some help so that he could take a break from being the WWF referee ... no dice!

A few minutes later, Brett found me out in the garage sharpening pencils.  Happily.  Quietly.  Singly.

Now he was on to me!  Little jobs that keep me busy, productive, purposeful ... and alone.  The trick to being a sane Mommy?  For 20 minutes of the 960 minutes they are awake each day, I look for jobs that they want no part of or that they can't really participate in ... and enjoy them!

Here are a few other of my favorite, solitary tasks:

Wiping out the refrigerator,
Shoveling snow,
Sweeping the porch,
Vacuuming the house, (the added bonus of not being able to hear them trying to get your attention!)
Raking leaves,
Purging the kids' stuff, (they don't want to be around much when Mommy gets organizing ... they might get put to work!)
Folding laundry,
Tidying the basement, and
Washing windows.

And you Dads have a few of these, too!  Brett's favorites would be mowing the lawn and weed eating (see vacuuming perk above), scooping dog dirt (too smelly), roasting coffee beans (too stinky, smoky and noisy) and working on the swamp cooler (too high).  I know Daddy's desperate for a little alone time when he's up on the roof!

I'm certain that you have your own "Daddy's/Mommy's busy" tasks that actually give you a break from the kids.  Send them along ... and you can be sure that I won't tell the kids.

It will be our little secret! :)