31 Days of "Things I have Learned from my Children..." Humility

"Mommy, you spank me, but I NOT WISSENING TO YOU!"

Words spoken to this mom who, after 10 years of being a mom, still has NO idea what I am doing. It is so humbling to know that I will never get it right, and it makes me all the more grateful that my Father in Heaven always gets it right.

I am certain He is never rolling his eyes at me, trying to figure out what to do now that I have once again fought what is best for me.

This little girl has taught me that I am SO far from perfect. I thought after three children I would have this mastered. Oh, I could not be more wrong.

I will never forget the twenty week ultrasound with this wee one. We went in and I knew it the minute I saw it - nothing too alarming, but something very distinct. There were just two vessels in her umbilical cord. This had happened five years prior when I had my ultrasound with my second. I always joke with her that she has been high maintenance since then, keeping me on my toes. When you have a two vessel umbilical cord, it could mean that about five hundred things are wrong, or it could be nothing. So you have to go in for extra tests and get monitored and measured - high maintenance. My second was born perfectly healthy at 8 lbs 1 oz. And now five years later, only two vessels again. Tears stung my eyes as the fear of another wild little girl was going to join our family. I was terrified that I was going to have to do it all over again: the battles, the fights to try to teach this strong will but still let her be who God made her to be. I also cried with relief that my 5 year old spitfire would have someone who could understand her.

Then she was born, perfectly healthy 8 pounds with a little firework on her cheek - a mark that I did not know at the time would define her personality so perfectly. She was born almost on the 4th of July. And apparently the only thing that two vessels means in our family is feisty.

I am humbled every day by the responsibility I bare of raising this child - these children - fearing they will NEVER be able to actually participate in a normal society.

And, I am humbled by hearing how my voice sounds so much like hers when I am speaking to my Father. I can be disciplined, but I AM NOT LISTENING! I so often think I know what is best.

And here it is, this little two year old humbling me, teaching me that I do not know what is best. Actually, I often have no idea what is best. In fact, I get it wrong more often than not. She needed love at this time, not discipline. So thankful my Father always knows what is best.

So we rocked and I held her. She stopped screaming, and I rocked some more. And finally, she fell asleep.

31 Days of "Things I Have Learned from my Children"... The gift of touch

They came in and told me I had to feed him, his blood sugar was way too low, the explained all the reasons it could be, but right now, I just had to get him to nurse.

It was the middle of the night and my little boy was just not having anything to do with it. Just 6 hours old and already not cooperating. My third, I thought for sure I would have this down, but he would not work with me. I Was. So. Tired. They handed him to me and with all the tricks that had worked before, I tried to coax this little boy to nurse. He would not. So I cried and I held him against me. His little soft sweet skin against mine and we slept for a while. The nurses returned, and asked if I had gotten him to eat. "Maybe a little," I exaggerated. He had latched on but he was too tired and so was I. Exhausted from labor and love. They checked his blood sugar and he was fine, perfectly fine, as if he had fed. He had not fed at all, but he needed his mommy to hold him, to touch him.

Children who do not have the loving touch of a mother, do not thrive. And this child of mine was not thriving, he needed me, in the night, to just hold him.

We were created to need people, to need to be held and touched.

Last night as we rocked to sleep she kept reaching up and bringing my cheek to hers. To have our cheeks together, skin on skin, touching. Every time I thought she was asleep I would pick up my head and she would immediately startle and reach her little hand up, grab my face and bring it by hers, again, cheek to cheek and she would rest, until finally she slept.

I am not a "touch" person, I am not a person who greets with a big hug or any hug at all. I am a person who needs personal space. But through these little people who thrive off the touch of their mom I have learned what a precious gift it is.

And so much to be thankful for...
61. Little hugs and kisses and cheeks to hold against mine; 62. The promise of a rainbow
63. Piles of leaves that smell like fall; 64. laughter as children jump in; 65. stories read with hot chocolate after a day of play; 65. Holding hands as we walk slowly the speed of little two year old legs and talk about stories she has created about rivers and not being scared. 67. Full moons that light the sky on an early morning run. 68. yarn waiting for projects to be started. 69. my whole family together after being apart for a few days. 70. Plans made to visit friends and family.

31 Days of "Things I have Learned from my Children..." Read and read and read some more.

Just over a month ago, we decided we were going to give up TV - except on Saturdays.

Being that I am not a rule-follower, I doubted it would stick, but the idea came from my ten-year-old, so I thought we could give it a try. They tend to worry and be hypochondriacs (a bit like me), so when I say TV makes their minds turn into mush, they put stock in it. I always said they should watch less TV, but I was also quick to turn to it when I don't know how to fill the time. So we jumped full in. The TV has been off most days; there have been a few exceptions, but the results of those exceptions have almost always been horrible. It seems that as soon as there is something to entertain us, all ability to take care of ourselves goes out the window. So we stick to our new rule as best as we can.

One result has been that we read more. Our evenings have ended with almost an hour of family reading. Even on Saturdays, we watch a movie and then end an hour early to get in some reading. This is a bit surprising to me, since I used to think that the last hour before bedtime would pass quicker with a television show. But it does not. We spend time together, doing something I love, reading. They each pick one book, and we read about fairies, ladybugs, and superheroes. Sometimes we read about magic spells and insightful principles, such as "a person's a person, no matter how small." Our days end better; they settle a little easier; and I feel like I did something worthwhile.

Another result has been that we read more during the day. My oldest is reading books I have not read, that maybe I should have read but skipped. And I have found that reading classic books allows me to think more clearly and more often. I have found the joy of reading over weeks. I tend to plow through books, but we are now reading some books just a chapter or two a day. We live in the books, and I miss the books when they are gone. (If you have not read the Tarzan books, I definitely recommend them!)

My second oldest is reading the Little House series, and she is learning to love stories and to enjoy sharing books with me and her sister who has already read them. There is joy in finding a kindred spirit who has experienced the book too and enjoyed the lives of the characters before.

My boy is learning to read. He is learning to put letters together to make sounds and sounds together to make words, and he is so proud. I am so proud. He works hard; he loves stories; and he loves making his own stories.

My littlest just loves books and repeats words and stories over and over. She is absorbing all she can.

I am finding that my kids are more creative and thoughtful as they read. I am finding that their minds work better for school. It has been a blessing for our entire family.

So, we read and read and read some more.

31 Days of "Things I have Learned from my Children"..Courage

The courage I am learning about is the kind that believes something is possible and then does it.

I want to protect my children, to keep them safe in a world that doesn’t seem so dangerous until you have little people you must protect from it. But I also want my children to be brave. I want them to know right from wrong, and I want them to be willing to say something is wrong if that’s what it is.

I wrote yesterday on “voice,” and I have not stopped thinking about the word since. In particular, I have been thinking about the voice of a girl on the other side of the world that spoke up for girls in her country. She said that they should be able to go to school. As a result, a terrorist organization has vowed to kill her. She is brave. She knew something was wrong; she was willing to say it was wrong; and she spoke because she thought that change was possible. Her voice is now echoing around the world. She is fourteen.

I want my children to let their voices be heard. And I want them to do more than speak; I want them to act.

In election seasons especially, I want to say to my children, Regardless of what happens, you still have personal responsibility to speak the truth and to act on it. I suppose that during elections, I feel as though so much hope is hung on a person who promises to pass laws or put in place regulations that will change lives. It is easier to believe that someone else – someone with more power and resources than me – can fix this problem. But to not only identify a wrong but DO something about it, that is the brave part. That is the step of faith. I believe (deep breath) it is job of the Church to help people, and we often miss the mark on this one.

I agree with those who fight to make abortion illegal. But wouldn’t that voice be louder if every person who opposes abortion actually adopted a child or offered to help a mom who has no options?

What if we, the Church, bought a struggling family food or medicine? What if we made them a meals or watched the kids when the mom needs to work? Those actions are big; they are the ones that can change lives – really change them. Those are brave actions.

And what of this girl in Pakistan who is fighting for education? We support her in principle, but what if we DID something? What if we raised children that knew right from wrong, and did not settle for the wishy-washy-truth-is-relative stuff? What if we loved in the way Christ loved and actually DID something. I admit, I have no idea what the doing would be for this girl, for the girls in Pakistan who want to learn, but there must be a brave action here – doing, loving, meeting needs – that might actually make a difference.

And I am learning that my actions are being watched. Even though I am a mom with four kids, and I am simply trying to make it in and out of McDonald’s in one piece, if I take a moment to be brave, my children will see it. If I take a moment to buy that person who is in need a cup of coffee, they are watching. Even the little things take courage. And they are watching and learning to be brave with me as I put into action what I believe. Maybe, just maybe the significant change would come if I start living as if Mark 12:30-31 is true…

“’The most important [commandment],’ Jesus answered, ‘is this: “Love the  Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” The second is this, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” There is no commandment greater than these.’”

31 Days of "Things I Have Learned from my Children..." Finding my "Voice"

This post is written for Five Minute Fridays over at Lisa Jo Baker's blog. 

The rules are you get the word from her blog then write without editing(this is REALLY hard for me) for five minutes then stop and hit publish. Then you link up...

and then you go and absolutely comment on the post before yours.

So the word this week is ...

Voice

Start

It is what they said I was missing, a voice. So odd it seemed since I hear myself speaking all the time, in words and in my head. But apparently it was not in my writing. You need to find your voice.

I get to pick?

My voice for writing, I have read it has something to do with your real voice, the one you hear in your head but then with something added to it. Whatever that looks like I am unsure. What I am sure of is my voice, the one I speak and the one in real life is always changing.

Sometimes my voice, is quiet, speaking words of love over sick little boys.

Sometimes my voice is full of laughter as I joke with my husband about putting the soap you use for washing dishes in the sink in the dishwasher and our kitchen fills with soap bubbles.

Sometimes my voice is full of tears as I talk with friends who have lost loves or are feeling hopeless.

Sometimes my voice is so loud as I am trying to make sure they hear me, since so far there has been no reaction to my request.

My voice is hard to find. Maybe my voice has multiple personalities.

And if I could pick a voice, one that is me, what would it look like, always?

I think I would pick the always full of grace one.

I know that is not what they are talking about or looking for, and I still am looking on finding a voice for writing, kind of an experiment in types as I write and write some more.

Looking for my writing voice, conscious of the one I speak.
Stop.

Conscious also of how my voice, the one I speak, the words I use impact my children, husband, friends, and all those I meet throughout the minutes of the day.

31 Days of "Things I have Learned from my Children..." Watching and Waiting

I heard a cry as I stepped out of my car after an early morning run. I looked, and staring at me was my sweet little girl. She had the door open and was just standing, watching. I ran to her and scooped her up in my arms. Every emotion and horrible thing that could have happened ran through my mind.

Everyone was still asleep. She had woken up and could not find me.

"What are you doing sweet girl?"

"I was watching for you mommy!" 

As I lay in my bed later again replaying all that could have gone wrong and thinking how to keep this fearless one from running off in the middle of the night on her own adventure this verse kept coming to my mind. 

"Watch therefore, for you do not know when the master of the house is coming--- in the evening, at midnight, at the crowing of the rooster, or in the morning--" Mark 13:35

In this moment of terror of all that could go wrong, I saw so clearly this picture of me, waiting, watching for the One I love, my Savior, who has promised He will return. Maybe, just maybe this is what that verse looks like. Waiting and watching for the One we are longing for to return.

(... and for those grandparents who are reading this, don't worry, we are working on a fix for this...the escaping from home in the middle of the night thing)

31 Days of "Things I have Learned from my Children..." The Practical Top 10

I had really no idea how to prepare for motherhood. I read several bits of books, got terrified, stopped reading them. I imagined what it would be like, and then, I became a mother. Nothing could have quite prepared me for it, the good and the bad.  I have learned so much about humility, things that matter in life, myself, my "issues," and my joys. I am so thankful for all the things I have learned.

However there are a few of the just obvious things that I have learned from motherhood, not the deep things that have challenged me to grow or think, but the practical things.

So, this is a list of the top ten practical things I have learned...

10. That "NO" will quickly become my least favorite word. Especially when screamed at the top of the lungs of any of my children when they have been asked to please obey their mother.

9. Sleep is a luxury

8. Humans can subsist on very small amounts of sleep for years at a time, although a few brain cells are lost in the process.

7. The most precious of gift I can give to my children is undivided attention.

6. Date night will soon look like sneaking in take out after kids are in bed, starting a movie, but then going to bed by 9, hoping to get at least two hours of sleep before someone little crawls in.

5. Books read aloud become markers in life. They are kind of like smells, reminding you of places. I have memories as a child of reading books with my mom curled up in sleeping bags while camping. Fond memories that I go back to whenever I see the book, 101 Dalmatians. And we are making memories of books read in different homes in different stages of life. So I read, lots and everything. As much as I heard it and still hear it, it is true. I can never read to them enough.

4. I will be expected to know the most random things, "Who is that person walking down the street?" or "Where is the ambulance headed?"

3. But my knowledge of things actually known will always be doubted. For example why my baby is crying or what we are having for dinner.

2. I would go from hating coffee, to enjoying it on occasion (but only the really fancy kind), to drinking it black if necessary to get through the day.

1. That I could possibly love someone so much, and then love the other little someones just as much. And that I would love them more each day.