Do You Hear That?

As I snuggle back into my pillow, I say out-loud (Brett can attest, not for the first time...), "I love our bed."  The flannel sheets are so very cozy.  The heating pad at the foot of the bed is warming my tootsies.  There is gentle waft of lavender from my sheets as a result of the little misting I gave them a few minutes ago.  The weight of the down comforter wraps around me.  And, the best thing?

It's quiet.

For the first time today, I am not listening to ...

Yells and squeals as the kids wrestle,
Screams and shrieks as the kids' wrestling goes south,
Hollers for ice packs and mad attempts to make the injured laugh,
Aaron and his buddy transforming into Pee Wee Herman*,
Ashley screeching as she tries to out-silly the boys,
Lydia yelling, "No!" to everything anybody asks,
Norah blowing across the top of her straw, repeatedly,
Boys trash-talking their computer competition and cheering their computer teams - loud and futile,
Lydia screaming, "Orng Guy!" in her attempt to have a piece of candy,
Aaron's detailed (and stupefying) recounting of his most recent Wii battle,
Gimli barking at the (threatening) pile of leaves in the culdesac,
Someone coughing endlessly in the living room,
Norah hollering from her room that Lydia has her cornered on the top bunk,
Baby S zerberting happily in her swing,
Lydia shrieking as someone budges in and shows her how to play with Play-Doh,
The phone ringing, "This is the Public Library, a book you have reserved is now available.",
Aaron's 14th request to, "Take five to play TapZoo",
Constant counting as the kids play endless games of hide-n-seek ... 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57 ...
Ashley's distress at being unable to find her Toy Story 3 play phone,
Gimli barking at the little fluffy thing on the other side of the fence,
Lydia repeating, "Dink Muh" ... ad finitum,
Feet thumping down the stairs, leaping over the last three steps to land with a thud,
Baby S protesting the hands-on help of her friends,
The bee-bop rhythm of the demo track on the synthesizer in the basement,
Yelps and giggles as the kids play Wii Party,
Cries and wails as three kids lose Wii Party,
Ashley crying that Lydia has her Toy Story 3 play phone,
The computer "barking" as the the timer being used for lazy hide-n-seekers is ignored,
Lydia asking again, "I pay Pee-Pod?",
Norah gymnasticking while Pandora plays the Hannah Montana station very loud,
Aaron yelling from the basement that, "Lydia's driving me CrAzY!",
Lydia screaming from the basement that, "I pay bahl!"
The phone ringing, "Hi.  Is Aaron there?",
Ashley tattling that, "So-and-So did Thus-And-Such",
Each child informing me that they are hungry,
Lydia and Ashley protesting their need to rest,
Weeping and whimpering from their beds, confirming their need to rest,
Maniacal laughter as the kids play "Leap or Stride" in the family room**,
The bee-bop rhythm of the demo track still bee-bopping from the basement,
Heated discussions about the rules and regulations of "Leap or stride",
Gimli barking at the branch on the back porch, and
The mind-numbing theme song from Animal Jam.

*They've never seen/heard/watch/encountered Pee Wee, but they have the uncanny (and unnerving) ability to sound just like him.  This is not a good thing.

** Involves a ginormous pile of pillows, the pink gymnastic mat, and an exercise ball.  There is a lot of bouncing, flying and flailing.  Use your imagination.

Finally, here in my nest, it's quiet.  But not quite silent.  Due to a pesky ear infection a few weeks ago, there is a slight ringing in my left ear.  A little, "eeeeeeeeeee", like you hear after you leave a concert or party.  It's like being able to hear the silence.  Kinda weird.  It's made me very aware of the absence of sound ... and how infrequent I experience it.

Throughout the day (as proven above), my day is full of sounds.  But it's not all the kids' fault.  I do my fair share of filling the silence, as well.  When alone in the kitchen, I turn on Jack Johnson or Sara Groves.  Sitting at the wheel of the van, I turn on the radio.  In a few quiet moments in the afternoon flip on the TV.  The kids go to bed and Brett and I settle on the couch for an episode of our favorite shows.  It's not until my head hits the pillow that I allow myself to settle into the quiet.

If this is my typical day (which I can assure you it is), how exactly am I supposed to tune into the quiet voices in my life?

My heart doesn't shout ... it quietly waits for me to pause and look inward.
My spirit doesn't holler ... it sits, awaiting nourishment.
God rarely yells ... He wants me to be still and listen.

It is essential that I carve out time for quietness.  And it's essential that I guard that quietness and not fill it up.  But that might be a challenge because silence can be uncomfortable ... what if I hear something from my heart or from God that requires change or a response.  It's easier to allow noise to become a buffer between me and my heart, me and my spirit, me and my God ... but it's not what is best.

What about you?  How often do you find yourself in the silence?  How often do you listen through the silence?

My goal is to hear more silence this week ... and take time to hear from from my heart, my spirit and my God.

^8b Then Eli realized that the LORD was calling the boy. ⁹ So Eli told Samuel, “Go and lie down, and if he calls you, say, ‘Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.

 ¹⁰ The LORD came and stood there, calling as at the other times, “Samuel! Samuel!”

   Then Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” (1 Samuel 3:8b-10)

Follow the Crumbs ...

As Ashley walks out of her Kindergarten room, she pops her thumb in her mouth.  She shuffles across the blacktop of the playground to where the girls and I are waiting.  She drops her pink and black backpack into the basket of the stroller and leans into me.

"How was your morning?"

"Fine."

"Did you have fun?"

"Yeah."

"Are you hungry?"

Head nod.

"Ohhh-kay.  Let's go."

Lydia skips along the sidewalk to the van.  Ashley rests her hand on the stroller handle and labors along beside me.  Lydia hops into her seat, chattering away at Baby S.  Ashley slumps into her car seat and leans to the left, looking out the window.

"Hang in there, Honey.  We'll go home and have lunch right away."

Little Le-Le is so much like her Daddy in this way.  When she's hungry, she's worthless.

I'll skip over the next 15 minutes for you.  It's too painful to relate.  Let me sum up:

She's hungry.
She doesn't know what to eat.
She's grumpy.
She cries a little.
She sucks her thumb a lot.
She can't make a decision.
She lays on the kitchen bench.  A lot.
She's moany and groany.

(At this point, Brett would like me to insert the following:  He isn't quite this worthless.  He usually doesn't cry.  Thank you.)

Eventually I manage to convince her that sitting up, blowing her nose and having some toast will make her feel better.  Within a few moments of the cinnamon toast hitting her stomach, she perks up.  She turns to her snacky-plate, finishes her toast, dives into her yogurt and munches on some red grapes.  All the while, the events and excitement of her day pour from her little mouth.

"I played with Karsyn today.  We climbed on the jungle gym and played on the swings.  We practiced writing the letter "L" and we counted all the way to 51.  Did you know that we've been in school for 51 days?!  We learned a song today in music class, do you want to hear it?"

Whew!  Just like her Daddy. :)  Give them a little food, a little something to eat, and they are re-energized for the rest of the day!

....

I head upstairs with my second load of laundry.  On the top step, someone has put a baby doll to nap.  I manage to wriggle one foot between the "bed" and the diaper bag filled to the brim with random paraphernalia - including what looks like my yummy lotion from my bathroom.
Grumble, grumble ...

I walk into the bathroom to find the two hand towels have leapt from their bar.  Again.  They lay in a damp, crumpled pile on the floor.
Mumble, mumble ...

I hear the screeches and screams coming from the basement.  Added to that are wails and howls.  As I open the louvered door at the top of the stairs, I spy two little people wrestling over the purple exercise ball.  One little screamer has the other howler by the hair.
Grrrrr ...

I stomp into the family room.  The girls are resting in their rooms.  According to the clock, I have about 45 minutes until someone will need me again.  I plop onto the couch.
Sigh ...

What a day!  I'm frazzled, frustrated and fuming.

Lately my days have been feeling more exasperating, more exhausting, than usual.  What's the deal?
It's the same kids, same situations, same busy-ness ... but a significantly different attitude.  What's the root?
As I sit on the edge of the couch with the sun stretching across the carpet toward my toes, I sink back into the cushions.  What am I going to do, God?

"Follow the crumbs ..."

Hmmm ... what was that again?

"Follow the crumbs ..."

The story of Hansel and Gretel comes to mind.  In an effort to find their way home, they sprinkled bread crumbs on the path.  In an effort to find my way back to my preferred role as Mom (the one that doesn't grumble, mumble, grrr or sigh) I need to follow those same crumbs.  And find my way back down the path that has led me here.

As soon as I pause and stop moving, it becomes obvious.  I think back through my last week and I can't remember when the last time was that I read my Bible.  Sure, I had read the devotion with the kids in the morning and I'd been tossing up "popcorn" prayers throughout the day, but apparently it had been over a week since I took time to settle into God's word and hear from Him.  My busy-ness had gotten in the way of this important quiet time and my busy-ness was beginning to suffer.

In the same way that Ashley (and Brett) need food to function well, I (dare I say, we) need spiritual food to perform well.  I can see the same link between toast and Ashley's exuberant recounting of her Kindergarten adventures and my Daily Bread and the energy I need to be the Mom I want to be.

Food meets our needs, be it a snacky-plate for lunch or God's word.  If you're feeling grumpy, irritable, crabby or dumbfounded, the odds are you're hungry.

It's time to follow the crumbs and get fed!

⁹ “This, then, is how you should pray:

   “‘Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be Your name,
¹⁰ Your kingdom come,
Your will be done,
   on earth as it is in heaven.
¹¹ Give us today our daily bread.
¹² And forgive us our debts,
   as we also have forgiven our debtors.
¹³ And lead us not into temptation,
   but deliver us from the evil one.’

(Matthew 6:9-13)

Listen! Do You Smell Something?

There is a great line from Ghostbusters ... the usual silliness that sticks with you!

 

Hee, hee ... I love how Egon just looks to his hand-held gizmo and starts investigating again!  Makes me want to watch the movie again.  Just to enjoy the lines like this one - where you start giggling because you know it's coming!

The other day, I had another run in with smell.  I was snuggled on the couch with my big kids reading through the last of "The Mysterious Benedict Society" (a book/series I would whole-heartedly recommend, by the way) when I most definitely smelled something.

Stinky feet.

Whew!  I was surrounded by four foul feet!  How could their feet get so smelly?  Their cutsie little tootsies that I used to kiss when they were itty bitty?  Now you couldn't pay me enough to get me that close to their doozy feet.

"Whoa, guys!  Your feet are stinky!" I teased.

Giggling they pulled off their socks.  As if that would help!  Now there were four feet and four separate socks that were making my eyes water!

"Aaah!  Go put your socks in the hamper and grab a baby wipe.  A little clean up down might help a bit!"

While the kids were gallumping upstairs to dispose of the hazardous waste and detoxify their feet, the smell lingered and suddenly I was standing in the locker room of my old school ... and it smelled the same.

My nose transported me back to gym class in middle school - the metal doors of the lockers clanging, the futile attempts at changing with any modesty, the giggles and groans from those who liked gym and those who didn't and the pervading smell of stinky feet.  I could feel in the pit of my reminiscing stomach the same anxieties that came along with being a pre-teen:  acne, physical development, fitting in, standing out, being cool ... not being stinky.

It was surprising to me how vividly those emotions from 20+ years came flooding back ... all because of a couple of stinky feet.  My sense of smell is a powerful tool for remembering ... but not always unpleasant things:

There is a particular cleaning product that whenever I smell it, I am walking through the dressing room at the Ouray pool.  I'm shivering and trying to dry off enough to get dressed quickly.  I'm wishing I could turn around and get back in the steaming hot springs!

When I made cinnamon rolls for Christmas last year, I used my mom's recipe and the smell of the sweet dough brought back memories of hanging out behind the counter of my mom's bakery and how she was never quite able to wash that smell out of her clothes.

Sitting at the pumpkin patch last week, perched upon a hay bale, I was warming in the sun.  And the hay was warming, too.  That sweet sent of warm straw surrounded me and I found myself standing against our old horse, Jake.  He's eating the hay I've just brought for him and I'm snuggled against his toasty side listening to him chew and feeling the heat radiating from his belly.  He has his own wonderful smell.

Smells are powerful ... in more ways than one!

God made us this way, I think.  Seeing as He engineered and designed us with great care and intention, I would have to say that he included this connection between our noses and our memories on purpose.  And this connection is also linked to the rest of our being!

In the Old Testament, God used the Israelite's noses on a regular basis to keep His children close to Him.  And often times to woo them back to Him.  Through the use of the incense burning perpetually before the altar and the smoke from the burnt offerings, the Israelites could not escape the smells of God's presence.

 ³⁴ Then the LORD said to Moses, “Take fragrant spices—gum resin, onycha and galbanum—and pure frankincense, all in equal amounts, ³⁵ and make a fragrant blend of incense, the work of a perfumer. It is to be salted and pure and sacred. ³⁶ Grind some of it to powder and place it in front of the ark of the covenant law in the tent of meeting, where I will meet with you. It shall be most holy to you. (Exodus 30:34-36, emphasis mine)

With the aroma of incense in the air, the Israelites were reminded of God promises and His presence.  As they gathered for worship at the temple, their hearts were ready to hear from God.  It was almost like God was saying, "Do you smell something?  Listen!  I have something important to say to you."

I think God still uses our noses today to draw us closer to Him ... the delicate smell of the communion wafers - a gentle reminder of Jesus' sacrifice; the aroma of a meal heating in the church kitchen - the promise of community and belonging; the scent of evergreens at Christmas - ushering us into the celebration of Jesus' birth; the whiff of 120 sweaty kids at Vacation Bible School - the opportunity to share the love and hope of Jesus in exponential ways.

We can't disregard the power of smell or the potential we have to smell and listen.  And learn.

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

Day 19:  Know Thy Limits

Day 20:  One Snapshot ~ Many Stories

Day 21:  Food For Thought ~ Malt-O-Meal

Day 22:  Cartwheeling for Jesus

Day 23:  Take a Load Off

Day 24:  Listen!  Do You Smell Something?

Can You Hear Me Now?

I'm sure that you have heard the old adage, "We have one mouth and two ears so that we can listen twice as much as we speak."  While I suppose it's true in principle, I don't often seen it played out that way!  Living in our house of 6 mouths and 12 ears (plus Gimli, I suppose ... so add one more set), it would seem to me that there is a lot more talking and not nearly enough listening!  Perhaps I would re-work this old saying to be something a bit more like this, "With two ears you should be able to hear just fine ... but first you have to quiet your mouth!"

Here is a familiar occurrence in our home:

Mom and Dad are talking in the kitchen after dinner.


Mom:  So, how was your d.....
Child from another room:  Dad! Can we watch TV?
Dad:  Come to where I am, please.
Mom:  As I was saying, how wa....
Same child from another room:  Dad!  Can we ...
Dad:  Come. To. Where. I. Am. Please.
Mom:  How ...
Same child walks into kitchen:  Dad, can ...
Dad:  Please don't interrupt your Mom.
Mom:  Ho ...
Different child from another room:  Mom!  I need help with my shirt.
Dad:  Come to the kitchen, please.
Mom:  Never mind ... we'll talk later.

Apparently everyone wants to be heard ... but no one is actually doing the hearing.  As a mom this is frazzling.  We are often out-numbered mouths to ears, for one thing.  For another, our kids are typically rather insistent in what they are saying to us and so we have to sort out the kids that need immediate attention (potty help or a mess to clean up) and those who really like to hear themselves talk (recounting a football play or chatting about a thought that just popped into their head).  In addition to this, each child often feels that their verbal contribution is of the utmost importance and so there can be a lot of budging and interrupting, too.  Then you have the wonderful tendency for each child to repeat themselves 3-4 times and you have a recipe for madness!

I'm sure that it is frustrating for the kids, too.  They are each important.  What they have to say is important.  Their need to be heard is important.  When our kids feel like we hear them, they also feel like we value them ... and what they have to say.  Unfortunately, that doesn't change that Mom still just has two ears and can only truly listen to one person at a time.  As a side note, this would appear to be hard evidence against evolution.  If we evolved ... we would have about a dozen ears!

In light of the need for our kids to be heard and our need for our ears to have a fighting chance, we work hard with our kids to take turns and not interrupt.  A few ideas that we use are the following:

1. We encourage our kids to come to wherever the person they need is.  That way they know if the person they need is available or if they are already talking to someone.  That sounds simple, but I'm always amazed that my kids still call from other parts of the house and will still walk in and interrupt a conversation in full-swing!
2. If they need me and I am on the phone, we ask them to quietly put their hand on my arm or leg.  That lets me know they need me and I try to respect that by being quick to find a moment in my conversation to excuse myself briefly and attend to them.
3. We have a "just a minute" signal that lets the interrupter know that they need to wait a moment. This helps the interruptee know that they will be heard 100% before Mom moves on to the next kid.
4. Give them air-time ... by modeling to them how to listen, they learn how to listen and take turns talking by watching us.
5. Practice, practice, practice!  This doesn't happen overnight, but we're investing in polite and respectful kids.

Now ... what about Mom's need to be heard?  I would say that this is one of the hardest parts about being a mom; one of those parts of mothering that hurts the most.  I have found that unless I am intentional about taking the opportunity at appropriate times to talk ... it's more likely that this will be a part of me that is sacrificed.  Being Mom often means hearing everybody ... but not being heard.  There have been seasons of mothering in which I felt like I was a mute.  Lots and lots of feelings and thoughts and no opportunity to express myself.  I would look for a "good time" to talk and find that either my schedule was too full or my hearers weren't listening.  So ... I would put aside those thoughts and find that there were new ones that popped up and replaced the old ... but still weren't given any air-time.  Pretty soon, I'm sitting with lots of thoughts in my head that need to be heard and no real plan as to how to get them all out in any sort of order that doesn't sound like Bob Wiley from What about Bob?, "I need, I need, I need!"

And often it's not super important stuff ... it's just the bits of info we acquire throughout the day that we want to share.  Maybe it's something we read or heard on the radio or perhaps it's an experience at the store (either funny or frustrating) ... it's the normal day-to-day parts of life.  But then other times, it is the big stuff.  And then it's even more important to be able to share those thoughts ... and even more frustrating when we can't.

Seeing as this is an issue that I still deal with :) I don't know that I have any real solutions to offer you, but I do have an idea or two.

1. Take the time regularly to talk to someone.  You might even need to be intentional and plan it into your day.  Turn off the TV and get some good face-time.
2. Communicate your need to be heard.  Those around you don't know you are full of thoughts unless you tell them.
3. If all else fails, write down your thoughts ... sometimes just getting them out of your head and onto paper is what you need to "clear the air".
4. Of course, I would be remiss if I didn't plug prayer here.  :)  It is a great comfort to know that God is always ready to listen to me.  And if I am paying attention ... He talks back to me:  through the Bible, Jesus music (as Ashley calls it) and others around me who love Jesus and help remind me of His promises.

When we are needing to be heard, I think that it's easy for us to get caught up in ourselves (our own natural selfishness kicks in!) and forget that others need to speak what is in their minds and hearts, too.  (Kinda like our kids!)  I read a book recently that had a quote that both convicted me and challenged me to look at communication a little differently.  Alexander McCall Smith is the author of "The Unbearable Lightness of Scones" among many other books.  During an interaction of two characters, Smith writes this, 

"How often have I noticed or, indeed, listened to him?  We talk, but do I actually listen, or is our conversation mainly a question of my waiting for him to stop and for it to be my turn to say something?  For how many of us is that what conversation means - the setting up of our lines?"

So I guess this post goes full circle ... we need to talk, but we also need to listen ... and talk ... and listen.   Hey ... that's kind of how conversations are supposed to go! :)

Yes, we have two ears so that we will listen more ... but we can't ignore our own need to talk, too.  It's our job to find the balance ... and then teach it to our children! :)