I Was Where You Are

My littlest went to a special friend's birthday party today. The friend invited only two children and it was simple and perfect.  They first had their nails polished at a children's salon, and then we went to Chick Fil A.  The mama had called ahead to let them know she would be ordering off the menu, not having an organized party.  We ate homemade cupcakes, made by the mama, and the girls were just as happy as having a huge bash. These are simple days where feeling pretty, eating chicken, and pink deliciousness delight them.  It was just enough.

We three mamas were talking.  We all have two girls each which puts us in a "girl club" of sorts.  She asked how old my other daughter was, I answered almost 7, and looking at the other mom she said, "Oh, she is where we will be in a few years."  They both have babies and preschoolers and I am at the next phase, so to speak.  Then I started talking.  "I know you are tired now.  You are working hard.  Believe me, as much as I know at this point with my oldest being six, it does pay off.  You are putting in hard, long, tiring hours but if you're like me, you might question, 'Is this all worth it?'  But, it does get better.  All the times you have repeated yourself, it sticks with them.  They change.  You'll see it.  Mine are best friends.  They fight, but it's good.  They are practicing being sisters.  My oldest stands up for my youngest.  They are taught to take care of each other.  And before you know it, you will have been cleaning out your closet like me for a good two hours and think.  Oh my word, I am all by myself and no one is falling apart!"  The moms were teary, and I was choking up, and I decided to stop because I had a full face of makeup on.

But it's true.  Time passes so quickly.  In the midst of having little babies, it seems like the work will never end. All the times you have used a gentle voice when they spilled again, nursed that baby until you felt like a human pacifier or a Dairy Queen, sighed when you look around and you just cleaned up the toys.  Someone decided to dump that toy chest, again!  Seriously?!  The list goes on.  It's like a three ring circus with different scenes coming and going of which you have no control over.  You might sacrifice by putting your career or dreams on hold that don't quite fit in with kids.  (Or with the post baby body syndrome:  I know I am down to my pre pregnancy weight, but it's just an illusion.  Everything shifted, friends.)  

I have those moments, too.  I know most moms will hands down tell you they don't see their kids as burdens.  But if we were all honest with ourselves, we struggle.  And it's normal.  No one has kids because it's easy, right?  But none of us knew at times it would be this hard!  God created us for greatness- becoming weak for him to be strong in us.  That is when I am most strong, when I bend the knee, humble myself, and realize my part is receiving his strength.  I ask, he gives.

In my first year of homeschooling, my days are usually extremes.  Really great times, and then, what the hello kitty, bad times.  I have texted my husband this year more than once asking, "Is this worth it??"  He usually responds remind me of how happy my girls are, how they love family time, and they even love it when I teach them.  It's then I am reminded that God uses me.  Sinful and inadequate me.  I am important and I have an important mission.  I am not just a stay at home mom who lost her career status.  My career is firstly being a daughter of the Most High God, wife to a man I am honored to walk alongside, raising girls for His Glory.  Man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever.  I loved John Piper's version:  To glorify God BY enjoying him forever.    

I still walk in my girls rooms and smell their baby smell.  It reminds me of sweet snuggles, belly laughs, rocking, singing, and butt paste.  (It stains everything.  We used lots.)  It's easy to forget how hard it is.  These days I can clean my closet without someone choking, but I'm equally blessed that it's hard enough to keep me praying.  I can't do it alone.  I was not made that way.  So I pray.  Lots.  And he always always knocks my socks off wowing me with his glory.  Like a daddy who likes to give gifts.  He is so so good.

Tangled

When my daughter was born, I saw her curly head of hair and shrieked!  Ooh!  A girl with curls!  Tickled pink (again:), I set out to quaff this one like the other one- bows, little ribbons, and "the fountain" until her hair really grew in and I could style it.  (Pause here to say, thank you Lord Jesus for my girls.)  However, as it grew, my hair confidence wavered.  I couldn't style it like my straight-haired other.  It ended up looking like a q-tip. I had this ongoing fear that she would say when she got older, "Mom, really?  Why didn't you do something to my hair? A q-tip?  Terrible!" So I did as any caring mom would do.  I bought product.  I strapped my little q-tip headed baby in the stroller and took her to Aveda.  They hooked me up and it has been easy sailing since then.

I only wish that were true.  You see, there are curly haired rules to follow. If you break the rules, the q-tip comes back, with a vengeance. And you are stuck moisturizing and fixing again. If only vanity were the issue.  You see, I have to brush her hair every day. With conditioner.  I do this because the big tangles (my mom always calls these "rat's nests") hurt. They hurt terribly. I hurt having to brush it and she hurts and some days I just quickly put it in a pony tail and call that rat's nests "volume".  (What woman doesn't want volume, right?).

I realized if I brush it daily, with conditioner, it doesn't hurt as bad, and she can wear it down by her face, how she likes it. (Fact: True princesses really wear their hair down and touch it gently.  Pony tails are reserved for marriages.  I just nod and say ok).  So I have this brush, the "hair genie", my conditioner concoction, a little Doc McStuffins and we brush.

I have found that my relationship with Jesus is much the same. Life happens.  I get busy, wander away, stop reading the Word, forget to pray, and I get tangled, or at least feel that way.  Because my "religion" isn't a religion at all.  It is a relationship.  Not a "to do" list of how to live, but a living, breathing, relationship.  You see, Jesus has been so real to me that I just can't stop Him. And the times I just don't feel like doing (fill in the blank), I pray for a desire.  Because He knows how I am, he made me, and he reaches in my rat's nest and straightens me out.  I am not striving for perfection, but to know him more.

My routine as I get ready has been to pray. (I am a much nicer person to be around if Jesus is the first one I talk to.  Just ask my husband.)

Do not let your adorning be external- the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear- but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious.  I Peter 3:3

I talk to my girls about why I wear makeup.  I explain that unlike the world, God only looks at the heart.  I talk about the story in I Samuel 16:7- Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.  I talk about why we Crossfit and how it makes us healthy and I focus on getting stronger.  My girls watch me lift heavy weight. I pray their memories are also of mommy lifting the weightiest book ever-the Bible.

I pray this same prayer as I brush my little's hair. Lord, help them see you are truly all they need to feel beautiful.  They are bought with a price.  I pray out loud. I pray Scripture. And I do a lot of talking. One of mine isn't reading, so I am her spoken Bible.  I pray God's spirit to move in and around us, through us and to bust the roof off our house with His presence.  (And then I pray for him to really not "bust" the roof, because I just don't want that, but to "bust" it more like "bust a move".  He gets me.).

And when things get really messy, I am reminded that sometimes the best lessons come from the biggest rat's nests.

What's that song?

There's music in your home. Music that plays all the time. If your house is like mine and a good song comes on, just about anything is worthy of dropping to dance, sing, and run towards the music. Just tonight one of mine stopped mid bite to run to the tv and literally break. it. down. They get it from their mama who just can't help it:). They got the gene!

Our prayer when we got married was to have a marriage that sings. As we've added to our family, the same prayer applies. Lord, may we sing for you. As imperfect, sinful, ugly our hearts are, make us sing. Of course, it's not that easy. Sometimes there are several songs playing at once. Like the classical variety where I want to hover (can I just have a moment, kiddos?), mixed with The Sofia the First theme song you just can't get out of your head (who else is totally mixed up with Tim Gunn as a butler?), sprinkled with a little bit of Matt Papa, and some "I wear your grandad's clothes. I look incredible". Usually the last type has some Zumba moves but that's a whole other topic.

Anyway, this is a blog to post what I'm doing, what I'm making, teaching, but mostly real life in our house, covered by God's grace, living. I've heard before the days are long but the years are short.
I believe it's true. And we're not on this earth forever. So Lord, make us sing!