The Terribles

My beloved Baylie Rose is starting to go through the terrible twos.  She is a happy little angel until she doesn't get her way and then she is a tiny but terrible ball of fury, but Alas, she is not the subject of this post.  Morgan, who seemed to begin the terrible twos at 17 months, had a bit of a lull at 3, has taken it up a notch since Baylie was born.  Though she has struggled with listening at home, she has always managed to be a model of politeness and caring elsewhere; garnering mind boggling compliments to those of us with her at home, but recently, she has been having trouble listening at school, she bit her best friend, and today she threw ice in her school friends face, even after he was crying for her to stop.

After the teacher met me in the drop off line, on the way home from school, I cried.  I have never been more shocked and disappointed as a parent.  Now you all know that I don't have perfect control of my temper, that I raise my voice more than I should, and I confess, on a couple of occasions I have slapped my daughter across the face before I even thought about what I had done.  Terrible thing to confess in a blog, I know, but I have to own what is my hand in this.  Sick and ashamed, I had to ask my small daughter for forgiveness. It is no justification, I know, but breaking the pattern of parenting in anger that you grew up with is no easy task.  Though that was quite some time ago now, I imagine it is something she won't soon forget, and I never will, but on the whole, we have tried very hard to be consistent loving parents.  We have taught our children about Christ's love and forgiveness, even when that means sucking it up and admitting that we need it as well.  We have read all the right books, and try to do all the right things.  We have had many conversations about kindness and bullying.  Yet as I write this, I can not understand why, from the beginning this child has been a challenge to me unequal to any other challenge in my life, and why she would behave this way when she knows right and wrong.  I do know, a good deal of it comes down to attention.  I feel like even though I am a stay at home mom, I will never have enough to give; she always needs more, and yet every time we take her aside to do something special, she acts out immediately afterword in spectacular fashion.  Also, when we calmly explain the consequence she has earned, she often respond punitively, :Well then I'm gonna______"

This is a post written in desperation! Can those slaps across the face when mommy lost control be enough to cause all this??? It seems like nothing we do has any effect, that  getting her way is the only ruling force in her mind.  She doesn't seem to grasp the cause and effect of having earned the consequences, though we talk to her about it, she always says that it is us not being nice.
Am I a terrible mother???  How can I get through to her before it is too late? I will never be perfect enough to never raise my voice.  Am I doomed to ruin my children?  If so, why is God giving us another one? Help!!!

Control Freak

Okay, I'm not gonna lie; within the last few days I feel like I have sloughed off the cliff from" settling for a little less" to "if I didn't absolutely have to get out of bed, I wouldn't".  I am flaking apart piece by piece.  I think my organizational skills must have stayed in bed, and I definitely left my sanity at the doctors office. When my kind nurse practitioner saw me back again, she said "I don't think micronor is the right birth control for you." I said, a bit manically, "JoAnn, I think a vasectomy is the right birth control for me!", and then when they told me I was not as far along as I hoped, and I was faced with another month of exhaustion and all day nausea, I admit, I had a rough time swimming to the surface.

Surprise though this pregnancy was, I quickly developed a vision of how things would go: me and my bump running 3 miles a day, eating our fruits and vegis, wearing cute maternity clothes that I'll never (Please God) have to wear again, and finishing up in our new house, and finally being settled. 
This pregnancy has instead, served to remind me on every front, how little control I really have, and what a control freak I really am.  I want to tell God, " I JUST WANT THINGS TO RUN ON SCHEDULE!!"or "ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY????" Learning to do things on His timetable is not easy for me. This is a lesson that has been revisited in many guises many times.

Christianity is a tough gig for me, control freak that I am.  I don't just want to sit back and accept that there is nothing I can do, Jesus did it all.  He is the only one who could.  There is no meditation plan to self actualization, no list of accomplishments to check off, indicating that I have earned my place, no rigorous discipline to whip me into worthiness, just acceptance.  Just like this pregnancy.  It's a done deal, one that ends in love, but must begin with the hardest thing of all, acceptance.

Settling for Less

I am a list girl.  I measure my worth by accomplishment, but with all of my recent pregnancy and other ailments, I have had to let my list go, and instead go with the motto, "Do what's most important." If I can do more after that, then I move on to the next most important thing.  This method is unnatural to me; it is against the fiber of who I am, but in this season, it's the best I can do.

You know the pinterest meme, " Some moms make homemade soaps, and reindeer treats, while I'm lucky I got a shower and my kids survived the day."? It seems I have both of these mom's inside of me in a constant stage of warfare.  They are like the good and bad proverbial angels atop my shoulder's....but which one is really good? Pinterest, list making mama definitely gets more done, but worn out tired mama snuggles my kids and reads them stories, and doesn't worry so much about rushing off to the next thing.  A while ago my oldest daughter brought me a sheet of paper that she had written on.  She couldn't make words at the time, so they were just random letters, but everything on the page had lines through it.  I'm sure you have guessed that when I asked her about it, she said it was her list, just like mama.  Is that what I want to create? I'm not sure.  I miss a lot of beautiful moments snapping at my kids because of my drive to reach the bottom of that list; even if I include the fun stuff, like crafts or baking cookies, in my mind it's just another thing that has to get done.  And for what anyway? It's not like a mama's work ever gets DONE, like I'm ever going to just sit back and say, I did everything on my list, my work here is complete.

I'm sure that as soon as I'm able, I'll go back to using my list, but I hope I take away a lesson from this time, that I need to settle for a bit less on that list, so that I can give more to my kids within the stuff that has to get done, so that I don't become a model of something ugly because someone didn't buckle their car seat with military efficiency, or be unable to enjoy the moments we have together because I want to cross off  "make banana bread".  It's easier said than done, but my prayer for all of us as Christmas comes, and beyond, is that we don't loose our kids or our minds in the bustle of our to-do lists.  After all, dirty floors, dishes, and laundry will be there another day, but those tiny moments of sublime grace are so easy to miss.

Hillary

Basically all my childhood, I had the same best friend. She wasn't fickle and catty like the other girls, and we had very few falling outs.  We grew up together, through the good and the terrible, so between being there for most of one anothers formative experiences, and discussing everything to death, we grew to where all we had to do was look at each other to know what the other was thinking.  We didn't need anyone else, and we never had to worry about what people thought of us; we had each other.  As girls often do, we said we would be friends forever, or at least if we weren't, we vowed never to drift apart.  If something should be big enough to separate us, it would end in a knock down drag out fight worthy of our friendship.

She was the maid of honor at my first wedding.  She made a beautiful speech and gave us meaningful gifts. I moved to Washington and never saw her again.  I tried a few times to reach out, but she didn't seem interested.  The last of these times was during the desperate darkness of my divorce.  We drifted apart.  Who can say why?  In the early years, I wanted to demand an explanation; the fight I was due.  If I had my guess, I'd say that maybe for some people there comes a point where there's too much between two people: when you know each other so well, and have journeyed together through so much, that the other person becomes like a mirror, of your wounds, your hidden weaknesses, all the pain and things you would rather put behind you....maybe you trade someone who understands you for a piece of freedom from your past.

Our lives are so different.  She is accomplished, unmarried, and atheist, and I live a life we made fun of in high school.  What kind of relationship could we have now anyway?  Neither of us are the type for BS or small talk, so nothing is better for both of us than something superficial.

My friend recently got in a car accident.  She is OK, but it really made me evaluate where we are, and I realized this: Through the years my love for her has become more Christ-like than any other in my life.  Over time, all the need drained out of me.  I don't need to be friends, to hang out.  I don't need for her to like me or validate me in any way, but I have never stopped wanting the best for her, never stopped praying for her (except during the times when I didn't pray at all), I would never turn my back on her in need, no matter time of day or season of life.  I realized that when you love someone it doesn't matter if you have different lives, or believe different things, or even ever speak again.  She is as much a part of me as that bicycle chained to the tree as it grew.

I have longed for someone who understands me the way she did, but that empty place is more than fair trade for the time we had, and  God gave me a different type of best friend in my husband; one who loves me so deeply that understanding isn't required.

Sometimes God forces us grow in ways that it takes a lot of distance to see the lesson, and sometimes I guess you have to loose the present, to find the gift.

Divert!

Once upon a time, long ago, before I knew Jesus, or motherhood, I defined myself by what I knew I would accomplish. With a singular focus I devoted myself to becoming a singer... voice lessons, college major, I knew I would succeed, not because of superior talent, but by sheer force of unshakable will.

When I met my husband, I fell in love, suddenly and deeply, like stumbling into a well.  The opposing desires of my heart fought violently.  My unhealthy lifestyle of bars and ambition choked our love, and in the end, I knew only one could survive.  I layed aside my voice, until I could learn to use it for something besides my own glory. My defining feature absent, I floundered until He saved me and let me be defined anew. Most who did not know me then have never heard me sing.

I believe if I had followed that path I would have been successful in worldly terms, but consumed by self, devoid of God.  Instead, He gave me love; it stretched me, He gave me children, those strippers of selfishness.  He radically changed my path, so that I could grow.  I did not see God's hand as He gave me what I needed but did not want, but it was there as surely as gravity changes the tide.

And so now, as He diverts our path again, with a pregnancy that was not in The Plan (Oh how I could almost taste those actual dates with my husband...). I must trust to His purpose.  I don't have what it takes to mother another child.  He will give it to me.  I don't see where He wants to go with my life.  I will let Him lead me there anyway.  He is teaching me, my value is not in accomplishment, my strength is not in MY will.  It is a difficult lesson; two children have not been enough to teach it; my selfishness runs so deep.  He is humbling me, blessing me, teaching me, all with a little change of course.

Father

Hold my hand and help me as we raise these littles,
Help me to learn to serve, so they may see you,
Cover my tired with grace,
Help us to forgive one another as we fall short,
Help us to follow the path you set before us,
though we see not beyond this step,
and if the way should look dark,
Help us close our eyes to the world,
and open our hearts to your light.

Amen

Free Will, Predermination, and Prayer, Oh My!

I am just going to warn you from the start, that this is going to be an extremely odd post. So here goes, recently, our church has been doing a sermon series on the end times.  My view on this subject has always been that we aren't supposed to know the day or the hour, so why spend time dwelling on this issue.  Our pastor pointed out, however, that it is in the bible, and therefore it is something that God wants us to know and we can't selectively ignore parts of God's word (duh, right).  So. anyway, during this series he gives a sermon on the Antichrist, and I have to tell you, I haven't devoted much mental space to this previously, and I found that the concept of this person disturbs me on multiple levels.  While the Antichrist clearly ends up totally wicked, and capable of using all possible means to commit unfathomable atrocities, he clearly starts out just like everyone else: someones baby.  How does a person become so broken that they wholly abandon good for evil; at what point does this person realize they are the Antichrist? Many of the people who eventually go to Hell, don't believe in Hell, but the Antichrist, as he eventually receives power directly from the devil, clearly knows that he is trading eternal punishment for extremely short term gain. Also, even the most misled of us are generally looking for good, whether in themselves, another religion, or what have you. I just can't get my brain around this choice to consciously and blatantly reject all redemption or goodness , or this evolution from someones little boy, to the epitome of evil; that idea just makes me so sad. Which brings me to my greater dilemma....you know how the bible says to pray for our enemies, those who persecute us?  We have no greater enemy than this, and yet, the bible prophesies that these events will come to pass, and they must, for the fulfillment of God's plan.  He can't just rewrite the bible because of my little prayer, so is there any point in praying for the Antichrist?(or his mama) How do free will, predetermination, and the power of prayer interact ?????

The Naked Truth

Basically all of Lance's friends who are married, married their high school sweet hearts.  Lance dated a girl for three years that everyone assumed he would marry, and if she hadn't broken up with him in college, he probably would have.  I have been told in undertones by multiple people, that they didn't think he could ever love anyone again.  Goody, right?....She later married and divorced, and is now single again, so, being a naturally curious female, I freeped her on facebook (come on, you know you do it too), and she looked, well, sort of like me, before I had kids, which brings me to the naked truth: I am terrified that I am going to be going about one of my bedraggled days, bedecked in unbecoming crocks, kids in tow, probably yelling, unflattering post baby (OK toddler) belly in its full splendor, and I am going to run into her. If I do not run into her in a circumstance such as this, I shall certainly do so someday at one of the high school friend crew events, you know, weddings, funerals, and the like, and in fact, one such event is looming near. Next May, one of the last holdouts to single hood is tying the knot; plenty of time to make sure I am in excellent shape, if in fact, my body was not laughing in the face of all my attempts to banish the excess weight.  As I wean Baylie, I live in fear that I shall further balloon to a hitherto unexperienced level of frump, which by the way, is not all over, but mainly having a party in my abdomen, causing getting dressed to be an athletic endeavour in itself.

As the high school crew and spouses have never liked me, this event feels like diving with sharks, waiting for the smell of blood, er, fat.  In fact, true or not, it seems as though these particular folks have been waiting for me to get fat for a very long time. Though normally pretty self assured, I tell you, I'd rather swim with sharks, than be seen by said skinny single ex and friends in my current condition. The naked ugly truth, is that we all struggle on some level with body image, and she brings out the- I can see how people would resort to vomit-in me. I am running my ass off (oh wait, it's still there!), for some of the wrong reasons, and though I have healthy reasons too, I just can't seem to shake this one. While my husband makes me feel gorgeous, and I know that I should be covered by God's grace at any weight, I am afraid that all my weaknesses will be visible to all unless I push myself all the time, and that I have to work harder and produce more to be worthy, of love, of my husband, the respect of my friends, etcetera.  It comes down to a lot more than just my body.  And as much as I recognize the problem, and yes, realize that I am not actually an unhealthy weight, and would like to tell you that all body image/self worth issues will surely be resolved by the time this event comes to pass, the real naked truth is, that I will likely feign the plague if I am not the perfect toned size 2-4 I was the last time many of these people saw me at my own wedding. Sigh.