It Takes a Village

Mother's Day is kind of a humbling day. I don't always feel like I'm doing that great of a job. This is for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the misguided comparisons I make to others and the perfectionism that seems to be deep-seated in my veins. Also, I yell a lot.  And yet, despite my fears that I'm failing,on Sunday I was lavished with hugs and kisses, homemade cards, adorable presents made at school, and declarations of love.

Oh yeah, and breakfast in bed. 

Cha-ching!

I reflected on Sunday how the best parts of me as a parent are due to, first of all, God's incredible grace.  Clearly He thinks I can do this job, but it wouldn't happen without His wisdom and guidance (when I shut up and listen, that is).  The best parts of me are also a result of the influence of all the incredible women in my life: my mom, mom-in-law, grandmothers, aunts, cousins, sisters, Christian mentors, and friends. Not to mention my husband without whom I would be a weeping mass prostrate upon the floor.  I mean more than I already am. It truly is taking a village to help raise my children; an amazing community of which I am undeserving but am eternally grateful for. To all of you who are a part of this tribe I thank you.

BACK TO FOOD!
I ate the delicious breakfast you see pictured above slowly, one delicious bite at a time. It's a root vegetable hash made of parsnips, turnips, beets, sweet potates, and carrots with venison steak** mixed in.  I (rather, my hubby) used the recipe found here. I also had it for breakfast this morning and will probably finish it up tomorrow. Hooray for leftovers!

**Yes, I've mentioned venison a lot during this journey.  We have family in Michigan who hunt and fish, so we are very lucky to get some quality meat.  Venison is not for everyone, but I enjoy it in the right dishes.

Sunday lunch was a trip to Chipotle.  Thank you, Chipotle, for serving well-raised meat and quality ingredients! My order was a fajita bowl sans beans and rice (lettuce lined the bottom instead) with steak, fresh tomato salsa, and green tomatillo salsa.  I love sour cream and was going to miss that creamy element the most, so I decided to give guacamole a shot.  I have never been a big fan of guacamole, but I've been branching out over the last two weeks and trying avocado in some other dishes, so with my palate slowly changing I thought I'd give it a go. I actually really enjoyed it! (in small quantities :) ) 

Sunday evening we enjoyed a stew that James pulled together and cooked in the crock pot all day. Meat of choice? Venison steak of course.  And pretty much every vegetable you can imagine (except white potatoes. My eldest son was fooled into thinking parsnips were potatoes, however.  Heh heh). I also had discovered this recipe for chile lime chicken wings that I just HAD to try, so we gave that a shot too.  The grill isn't quite fired up and ready yet so we did them in the oven.  Great flavor but they should definitely be grilled, we decided. We had an avocado-cilantro-lime dipping sauce and today I made a homemade ranch (from the book, duh) for the leftovers. Super yummy.

Some brussels on the side, yo.

Yesterday was a day for leftovers, which is fine by me. Dinner for me was eaten on the fly before dashing out the door, and I threw together this dish. It calls for fish sauce which I did not use because the only Whole 30-compliant fish sauce needs to be ordered on Amazon, and I am just way too Dutch for that business. It was a delicious little meal and very, very quick to make. Which me likey.

Tip of the day. 

I've been missing my fun drinks a bit, I cannot tell a lie. There's just no substitute for a glass of wine at the end of the day. And it would defeat the purpose of the Whole 30 and its mission to retrain the psychology that happens between me and food to TRY to substitute.  But just to mix up the blandness of plain ol' water all the time, I discovered these gems:

A little smidge of fruity after taste and some bubbles.  Works for me!



Epic (failures of) Moments in Mom History

Every so often (at least weekly), I create a forehead-smacking moment that for weeks to come will have me pondering what-in-the-name-of-all-that-is-good-and-decent I was thinking. This morning was one such moment.
I tend to have a penchant for procrastinating. It doesn't usually end well when I choose this route, but because 35 years of experience mean, apparently, nothing, I pushed it again this week and left something for the very last minute. Thus my trip to Target this morning. With all three boys. 45 minutes before the start of school. (smacks forehead)
After a morning of pushing, prodding, and cajoling the crew through the school readiness routine of breakfast, clothing, teeth brushing, etc. I drove down newly-snow-covered-then-plowed streets, all the while doling out multiple warnings of how quickly we needed to accomplish this task and if certain somebodies did not want consequences or to be late for school then we'd all better move it. We made it to the actual store and through the parking lot virtually without incident (VIRTUALLY, I say) though as soon as we made it into the store there were, of course, bathroom needs. Commence grinding of teeth and deep breathing and repeats of aforementioned threats.
The first 30 seconds of actual shopping went well until Jeran was pulled, almost as if by tractor beam, to the Lego aisle. My blood pressure rose a few notches as I forcefully reminded him that we were IN A HURRY and DID NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS.  "Yep, ok Mom, I know," he replied as he sidled over to the Star Wars display.  I told him I was moving on and promptly did so, moving a little further across the store, then of course returning to threaten (a little more loudly this time), then moving on again. In pretty short order I had the few items I'd come for and stood waiting at the end of the toy section, tapping my foot and making loud, dramatic sighing noises (for whose benefit, I have no idea, since Jeran was much too engrossed to be appropriately motivated by them, as I'm SURE he would have been had he been within earshot).
This is the moment when things truly went downhill.  I muttered something inspiring like, "That. is. IT", grabbed hold of the cart and proceeded to fly at top speed back toward my oldest child. It was a bit of an out-of-body experience as I watched myself rampaging down the aisle. Thinking back, I believe I must have looked much akin to the Wicked Witch of the West except with shopping cart as opposed to broom, and a bright red face instead of a green one.  But picture the same cruel intent in the eyes. I then listened to myself very loudly reprimand my child for how late he was making us, pounding my fist into my palm to enforce my point. Something in the back of my mind told me to take it easy, take a breath, take a MOMENT for pete's sake, particularly as I realized that there were several store employees around who were witnessing this whole debacle. But I just couldn't stop myself.  And this dude was not getting the message.
On to plan B.  I marched my irate self up to Guest Services and asked a most pleasant (and unsuspecting of how soon she was to be dragged into my mess) employee if she could please make an announcement for me over the store intercom. Surely if Jeran heard himself very publicly called to the front of the store it would get him moving. Pleasant Employee informed me they no longer had the ability to do such a thing, and I just launched, shamefully, right into manipulation mode.
"Well, I don't know where my child is."
This big fat lie of a statement, of course, soon sparked a domino effect of employee handset activity as the word went out about my wandering child. Who I was pretty sure was right where I had left him. Finally starting to realize that I had probably carried this a bit too far (and that any employee within 100 feet of the Lego aisle would know about my multiple encounters there with my child), I quickly went back to collect him, sheepishly showed the Guest Services employee that I did, indeed, have him back in my possession and with much more muttering and exasperated utterances, checked out and departed.

Why do I recount this story? I guess it's mainly because of the power words have for me as I strive to process. And the shame and regret and humiliation that hit me like a Mack truck the second we were all back in the car MUST, I feel, be put into words in order for me to move past them. While I have certainly had experiences when I've left a public place feeling that my children's behavior will most likely mark us as banned from the premises, this time it is only me who should probably avoid showing my face there again. My kids really were not ill-behaved in this situation.  Nope, that was AAALLLL me.

It's all left me very embarrassed and aware of the need for change. I have become the mom I used to feel some embarrassment for when I'd see her out in public, yelling at her children and making empty threats and in general just seeming very desperate and unglued.
It all went wrong the second I made the decision to put off until tomorrow what could have been done today (multiple times, no less).  But it goes beyond that. So many lessons have come out of this for me:

• I went into this situation EXPECTING the very worst of my children. My constant warnings and threats basically told them I think they're too naughty and too dumb to respond to me any other way. I think I do this often.
• I am in way too darn much of a hurry in my life. Everything is urgent and immediate and must be done on my time table.
• I have an anger issue.  In this case,  if I had just taken a freaking breath and given my son (whose obsession with Legos is both legendary and a force beyond his control) three minutes to look them over we probably could have avoided the whole scene and been out of there sooner.

All of these played into this morning's mess. And none of them are news to me. But I was humbled (yes, and humiliated) in a new way this morning and am challenged to rethink my response to life in general. I believe that God wants to use what He allowed me to see in myself this morning to further me on my journey with Him. I believe He needs me to chill the heck out and think about what my actions are teaching my children and telling the world-at-large about who I am. How can I tell my boys to be patient when I am constantly hurrying them along at my pace? How can I teach them about grace when I am flying off the handle at any inconvenience? How can I expect them to be kind when I point out their flaws, however inadvertently?
My thoughts on this can't really be wrapped up all nice and neat.  It's a process, both mothering and growing as a person. So the journey continues...

A Mother's Prayer

Give me patience when little hands
tug at me with ceaseless small demands.

Give me gentle words and smiling eyes,
and keep my lips from hasty replies.

Let me not in weariness, confusion, or noise
obscure my vision from life's fleeting joys.

That in years to come, my house with beautiful
memories its rooms may fill.

~Anonymous

A belated Mom's Day shout-out to the woman who gave me birth and continues to love and nurture me. And to all the incredible moms in my life, either by blood, marriage, or friendship. I have a mighty tribe of you in my life, and I am thankful.