Stressed Out

Poor Petey is stressed.  

He is in the midst of a six-week molting season and he's miserable.  He sits trembling on his manzanita twig, fluffing what feathers he has left and periodically peering out of the cage with one black beady eye.  He has obvious bald patches on his belly and shoulders and with each fluff of his wings, more yellow feathers flutter out of his cage and to the floor.  He still has a hearty appetite and can regularly be found sitting in his food dish picking through his seed.  It would appear that flax seed, oatmeal, broccoli and wheat bread are his only actual comforts in life.  He periodically will plop into his bird bath for a quick soak, but even that simple task seems to be exhausting to him.  He is skittish and frightened.  Someone simply walking past his cage prompts him to hurl himself to the furthest corner of his cage.  It's pathetic.

The absolute worst part of this re-feathering season, however, is that he has apparently forgotten how to sing.  My sweet little friend who typically serenades me as I wash dishes now sits silently on his perch, eyes closed and head tucked.

A song-less canary fluffing his featherless-ness and quivering.  So sad.

According to all the websites I've explored, this is a natural part of a bird's life.  It might be inevitable, but that doesn't make it any easier.  On Petey or me.  I can't wait for this stress-filled season to be behind us.

Like Petey, we also face the inevitability of stress in our lives.  And like Petey, that stress often presents itself in a variety of ways.

What do you do when you are stressed?

Do you stuff it in or let it explode?
Do you go for a run or run to food?
Do you chew out your kids or chew on your nails?
Do you get quiet and withdraw or do you get vocal and expressive?
Do you search high and low for a quick fix or do you settle in and wallow?

In all honesty, I am a stuff-it-in, stress-eating, kid-chewing, withdrawn wallower.

And you?

Stress in my life seems to come and go in seasons, too.  I find that stressful times typically are the result of too many demands and not enough time, energy or inspiration to manage it all.  I can get so focused on the pesky and stressful aspects of my life (no names, please ... ) that I lose sight of the good and lovely aspects of my life (Aaron, Norah, Ashley, Lydia, Brett, Jesus ... ).

In the midst of a stressful episode, I find myself wishing for a giant bowl of chocolate to sit in and eat from, desiring to fluff myself up and hide my head under the covers and flee from anyone else who might possible need something from me.

I also would admit that when I am stressed, I forget to sing.  This is certainly one of the worst parts of stress.

In the Bible, Jesus tells us that one of our jobs is to sing praises to God.  It's not only a job, however,  but a privilege.  Jesus goes on to say in Luke 19:39-41, that if we choose not to sing praises to God, that the stones of the earth will cry out instead.

How often have I allowed daily stresses to steal my privilege to sing?
How often have I let my inevitable stress rob me of the joy of praising God?
And how often have I missed out on the miracle of having my perspective changed through praise?

I know that poor Petey can't help his predicament.  In a few weeks, he'll find himself re-feathered and ready to sing.  I, however, have a daily choice.  I can choose to stuff it in, eat my way through it, chew on a few kids and withdraw into silence.  Or ...

I can choose to praise.

And you?

Choices, Choices, Choices

Strangely enough, the aspects of being a stay-at-home mom that drive me the most batty are not the "Mom" parts.  It's the "home" parts that wear me out!  More often than not, when I find myself the most frazzled or in the grumpiest funk it's not because the kids are coo-coo (although that has been know to happen), but it's because I'm filling my role as mom ...

and cook

and nurse

and maid

and mechanic

and toy-fixer

and chauffeur

and social planner

and nutritionist

and bug exterminator

and laundress

and veterinarian

and game show host

and computer programmer

and plumber

and gardener

and librarian

and seamstress

and teacher

and ... and ... and ...

you get the point.

If I could just be Mom, that would be awesome!

I could ...

... read a book with my kids - as sloooooowly as they wanted to.  Looking at each and every little doodle on every page.

... sit at the table and eat lunch with my littlest - as she breaks each and every pretzel into twelve pieces and nibbles on each one with a sip of milk in between.

... perch on the front step with my girls and blow bubbles.  Hundreds and thousands of bubbles until I run out of air.

... stretch out on the floor for a cut-throat game of UNO.  And the winner would be the best of five games ... or maybe seven.

... snuggle on the couch amongst the pile of arms and legs to giggle through an episode (or two, or three ...) of Phineas and Ferb.  Listen to my kids laugh and sing and mimic their favorite lines.

... flop on the futon with my boy and listen to his detailed recount of the most recent Lego Star Wars battle (complete with sound-effects and slow-motion instant replay).  And actually follow along with what he's saying.

... impress my girls with my incredible ability to stay in the lines while coloring.  We have a wide variety of coloring books to choose from: Disney Princess, Strawberry Shortcake, Zhu-Zhu Pets and more!

... relax with letting my kids be my first priority and not cringe at the thought of not crossing anything off  my To-Do list.  Productivity is not to be confused with purpose!

... just be.

I know veteran moms are telling me the truth when they say that these years with my young children are fleeting.  I know in my heart that the laundry and dishes and weeds will still be there after I take time to play with my kids.  I know for a fact that my kids can tell the difference between when I'm distracted and focused, absent and present, disinterested and interested.  I know that God has called me to be a mom to my kids.  I know that I love being a mom.

But what do I do with the other demands of my time?

I would love to have a pat answer here, but I'm not sure that there is perfect equation for making all these roles balance out.  And what about the evil tyranny of the urgent?  Often the "have to's" crowd out the "want to's".  I guess it comes down to simply making a choice.

A choice to be intentional.

I will make a choice to take the time to organize my life ... and make sure to schedule play time.

I will make a choice to say "no" to projects and engagements that just keep us busy ... and invest our time in the activities that truly matter.

I will make a choice to say "yes" to my kids when they invite me to join them ... and truly be present in their presence.

I will make a choice to not fill up any available moments with pointless busy-ness ... which leads me to my next choice.

I will make a choice to limit the aspects of my life that are time-drainers ... nothing sucks up time like dinking around the computer.

I will make a choice to ask God each day, "What do YOU have on my to-do list?" ... and then stick to His plan.

I will make a choice to embrace God's plan for my day ... and ask Him to show me the sacredness of each task, no matter how mundane.

I will make a choice to slow down ... breathe deeply ... stop moving.

I will make a choice to come back to this list and remind myself of the need to make a conscience choice. Tomorrow.  And the next day.  And the next.

What do you think?  How do you balance the many hats that you wear?  

What simple choices can you make to find more peace in the role God has given you?