A Quick Thought

"Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

--Jesus

If he says to become like them...


Why are we always trying to make them become more like us?

Learn your baby

*** Disclaimer: The first half of this post is dripping with exaggeration and sarcasm. I know my husband will read this and say "welllllll, that's not entirely true." I'm going to extremes to make a point. Just keep reading!

It's becoming pretty clear to me, and probably to you, if you have been following this blog, that I struggle with control issues. I even considered renaming this blog to "control freaks anonymous" but I discovered something like this already exists. So then I considered joining the group. Kidding. Sort of.

You can imagine what happens when a struggling freak has a second baby. First baby slept so well, did everything so well... so second baby will too, if treated in the same. exact. way.

Let's just all take a minute and LOL over that one.

Well, that was me. Our first was a delightful little peach. Our lives didn't change much at all in the beginning. We took her everywhere and she just willingly and happily hung out. She was the definition of a baby who CHILLED. She LOVED a schedule. She loved consistency. So she was the PERFECT baby for me. She fit so well into my little controlled atmosphere.

People would comment. I would smile. Life was sweet.

Other people would have babies and they would ask "What did you do???" I would tell them of my "perfect" little routine that worked so well for us, and encouraged them (because OF COURSE it was the way we swaddled her, the way we sang to her, the way we fed her and napped her and bathed her....) that our way would work for them too!

But it didn't always.

Then I would hear the common excuse of "every baby is different." You've heard it too, right? I would smile and nod, secretly thinking... "no... every baby is the same, you just aren't doing this parenting thing RIGHT."

If you want,  please take another moment and LOL.

Then I had a second baby.

Although, we lived in a different apartment, I set it up the exact same way. Bassinet by the bed, nap nanny on the kitchen floor, burp cloths strategically placed around the house. I made sure the oldest was potty trained and binky free. (Only need to deal with ONE baby at a time, people!!) There were locks on the refrigerator, the bathroom door, and the closets, so that when I couldn't see the oldest I would know she was safe. She had a basket of special toys for when the baby had to nurse and everything was going to be JUST WONDERFUL.

Do it again. LOLOLOLOLOLOL!!!!

Holy MOTHER! WHY DIDN'T THE SECOND BABY WANT HIS BINKY?!

Why did he want to nurse ALL the time?!

As I stood by his bassinet, with him swaddled the "right"  way, rocking him the "right"way so that he would get just sleepy enough to put down but not totally asleep, singing the SAME song I would sing to the first kid every time she would nap, and forcefully shoving the binky into his mouth.

I heard the whisper.

It said "Learn your baby."

WHAT?

"Learn your baby."

Oh. Damn.

What now?

I stopped rocking him. I held him. I let him sleep in my arms (just this ONE time, of course!). I took a big deep breath and let those words wash over me.

It was so easy to forget that this little baby was a special unique human being who had a special and unique personality.

There was no time to spend in babyland with a 2 year old toddler bouncing around. He was forgotten about all. the. time.

I actually remember being at a party when he was about 3 months old when someone asked me what my son's name was. I stared at them for a long time until they (finally) said "Is it Simon?"

I had COMPLETELY forgotten I had a son!!

It was time to take a step back and make a plan with God. Slow down, and figure out this baby. Slow down and love the beautifulness that he brought to the table.

In doing this, I have learned SO much about each of my children. Because of their differences I get to know them better. Because of their differences I am expanding my parenting abilities. Because of their differences I am

giving up control.

God is able to mold me and shape me more into the person He created me to be.

I get to spend time with God journaling and brainstorming how to raise each child. (see picture above from my last session)

It's not the same. Our parenting is always based on some of the same principles such as respect, love and boundaries; but these look different for each of them.

This makes me think of how many children God has. We are all different, but sometimes we expect Him to treat us all the same. Or even worse... we judge others because of how they feel God is dealing with them.

EEEEK.

God is BIG. We are intricate. He made us and He knows how to care for each of us.

It doesn't look the same.

I wonder how much more unified the church may look, if we could grasp this.

How much more love would be flying around??

Thanks God, thankful for this lesson. Rip the control, rip the RELIGION right out of me. I'm ready.

Are you?

You must get that from your mother

There are crumbs covering the kitchen counter. There are smushed blueberries all over the kitchen floor. The coffee table that I am resting my feet on is covered with keys, a jean jacket, books, a pretend baking pan, a water bottle, crocs, a paper towel with Chipotle chip crumbs on it, a journal, a shirt, a pair of feet pajamas, wipes, six tea-party cups, two bibs, a remote control, a sheet of stickers and a baby ergo.

It's a mess in here. 

That's not to mention the couch that I made room to sit on. 

I can only BEGIN to tell you how much this mess makes my head spin. It's constant. All. The. Time. It's no matter how many times I put things away, they come back. Everyone hears about it. The kids, the cats, my friends, my mommy acquaintances, and my husband. 

This mess has it's own blog post for goodness sakes! 

The mess stresses me out and poisons every part of my life. When the house is messy I feel distracted. I feel dirty, I feel busy, I feel like I can't sit and enjoy, well, anything. I'm constantly moving. Constantly telling the kids "in a minute, let me just clean up..."  and constantly pushing my husband away so I can wipe a countertop or clean a dish. I can hardly focus on writing this post because the coffee table looks the way it does! 

Clutter has hijacked my life. 

Lately, Ive been hearing things like this out of my almost three year-old's mouth: 

"It's a mess in here!" 

"Mom, can you fix my bed, it's a mess!"

"Let me just wipe my baby's face, it's a mess!" 

I'm remembering how impressionable children are. For better... or worse. 

My eyes well up a bit, my throat gets lumpy. 

Lately, I've also been hearing things like this: 

Me: "Let's thank God for our meal, do you want to pray?"

J: "No."

"Stop praying mom."

"I don't want to pray, you pray." 

Or,

Me: "Did Jesus say anything to you?"

J: "No, he was sleeping."

What kind of example am I setting for my children? Am I who I want them to be? 

Why do I pray and worship when they can't see but fret and worry when they can? 

Will I be proud when someone says "You must get that from your mother..."?

I look again at the coffee table. The kitchen counter. There are muffin crumbs because we had a breakfast treat this morning. There are keys because we went outside today. There are books because we love to read and visit the library. There are crocs because I found the perfect orange crocs on sale today that I know J will just love! There is a paper towel with chip crumbs because we shared a snack together. There is a a tea party set and baking pans because my daughter loves to use her imagination! The list could go on. 

A friend mentioned to me today that perspective is key. That choosing joy is necessary. 

I am going to do that. No matter what the control freak, type A in me says, I am going to do that.

And when the kids wake up, I am going to turn up the music and let them see me worship-- even if I'm standing on blueberries and muffin crumbs!

Rain Rain Go Away

I'm sitting on her bed, just waiting- riding out the latest stall tactic- desperately just wanting the lights OUT. My husband stands by her in the other room- glazed over- just staring nowhere special, I'm sure feeling the same way as me.

She cares nothing of putting herself to bed. First her babies must be swaddled and sung to, prayed for and then lovingly placed down.

Our schedule, is clearly not her schedule.

I listen as she sings "Rain Rain Go Away." First, inserting her baby brother's name, then... Her dad interrupts- "Ok" he says, "Time to get to bed."
"No! No! No!" She yells. He doesn't realize the song isn't over just because it was sung all the way through. It's not over until each family member has had their turn.

I find myself wanting to protect this ritual for her.

Once she is heard and understood, she picks up where she has left off. "Little mommy wants to play... Little daddy wants to play" etc.
After each person has had their turn, she places her baby to sleep and walks herself into her room for bed.

No stalling, no battle. Lots of peace.

My mind wanders. There is a purpose in what she is doing. Every word, every verse, even the way she swaddled her babies- intentional. When that is uninterrupted, everything seems to fall into place. She even (gasp!) becomes aware of my needs!

She is aware and she should be trusted.

I start thinking about God. I'm thankful for our relationship but if I'm honest it isn't always ... easy.

Why not?

He says things to me like "Give me your burdens."
He says He will provide everything I need.
He says, He is aware and can be trusted. 

That sounds easy. But it's not, and I'm starting to understand why.

My control.
My agenda.

In a world where I am encouraged to take pride in how much control I have over my life (ahem, and my children), it seems God is once again calling me higher.

"The Lord God is my strength, and He will make my feet like hinds' feet, and He will make me to walk upon high places." Habakkuk 3:19

Sick on Christmas

Christmas is around the corner, so shouldn't I be filled with joy?

I love making hot cocoa and snuggling up with my family. I love brainstorming about the perfect gift for each family member and I love love love when they come in the mail! Wrapping is fun. Christmas smells are delicious. Mariah Carey Christmas tunes are music to my ears.

These things make me so happy.

But I'm not going to lie and say that I am constantly filled with joy when thinking about the approaching holiday. Actually it's quite the opposite. When I think about the actual days of Christmas festivities I start to feel a bit faint.

Like, sick actually.

I start thinking about missed naps, late bedtimes, tantrums, well-meaning family members who are way to willing to fill little children with loads and loads of SWEETS, traveling and toys that make noise!

This does not describe a joyful holiday for me.

I'm not here to complain though.

Here is a rundown of my first christmas with a child.

Actually, I just tried to access that part of my memory and I think I may have blocked it out.

All I can remember is Christmas day. It was not too bad,  but my little lady was running low on sleep because of Christmas Eve Eve and Christmas Eve with her other family. At seven months old, she sat on the floor while everyone opened their gifts. When it came time for hers, family members naturally wanted to hold her and open her gifts with her. I watched as she fussed and half cried, not wanting to be held. While people kept saying (in the best way possible) "No, you don't want mommy now, here! let's open some gifts!" I remember my brain being absolutely fried. FRIED. It was like, all of the check engine lights were flashing in my brain, all lit up saying "Leave her alone, she's just tired!!"

I wish I could remember the full Christmas to properly describe the days that preceded this one and led me to the breakdown, but I can't. And frankly, I don't think I want to.

I had to bring this to God because I absolutely could not have this happen every single holiday and we still had one more family to visit!

He showed me, what you are probably thinking right now.

I have control issues.

I know this, I know that I know what is best for my children, based on what God has shown me and past experience, but sometimes, even this has to be let go a bit. Hanging on to anything can develop into control. God was showing me that if I try to control everything-- even with the best intentions-- then I am not allowing Him to come close. I am actually keeping myself from experiencing God even more. More importantly, He showed me that this world is not ideal. It is fallen. When I try to ALWAYS  keep my children's environments at the ideal temperature, I am robbing them. I am taking away from them the opportunity to learn how to function in a less than ideal world, and I am actually (this is hard to type) keeping God further away from them as well. I stand in place of Holy Spirit who was sent to us as comforter and guide to learn how to navigate this world no matter what situation we find ourselves in.

Phew.

As are many things with God, this was comforting, refreshing and extremely hard to swallow.

How can I be ok just sitting back? WELL! That's where this past thanksgiving came into play. I tried just sitting back. Letting it allllll slide. The lady had lots of good thanksgiving food accompanied by 2 solo cups filled with orange juice, cherry pie, pumpkin pie and three layer cake. Family members smiled and giggled at her extreme desire for junk food and her oh so adorable tantrum when I tried to say no. When we got home (past her bedtime and with no nap) bed time was out of control. We both just sat and cried. It was terrible.

To God I went. What was going on?!?

He encouraged me to put the two together and see what happens. Combining what I know to be best, but with room for movement so that Holy Spirit could guide both me and my children creates BALANCE. He spoke that He has given me the ability to know what is best for my children, I have to stick to that, but I can't let myself go absolutely crazy when things aren't going exactly as planned. There has to be a balance.

So here is the balance challenge this Christmas. Christmas eve and Christmas day are planned. Last minute we are asked to tack on two more events back to back, making 4 days of family events in a row.

Excuse me while I grab a paper bag and take deep breaths.

I simply said no. Nope. No. We aren't doing both. I have a responsibility to my children and my family to keep the stress levels low--to make Christmas enjoyable.

This is in fact the celebration of our Savior's birth. It can be so easily forgotten.

Lord, help me as I keep trying to find the balance!

Any tips on how to keep Christmas' bipolar qualities at bay?