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...

All Dried Up

Many Two of you expressed despair mild disappointment over the fact that your Christmas greeting from our home did not include the usual family update. Honestly, I felt I had nothing to say.This year was uneventful, it seems, and in many ways I feel like we're exactly where we were a year ago.  For many reasons this disappoints me.  I had high hopes of a year filled with growth and maybe a little bit of change. But here we are. The same things about myself that frustrated me then, frustrate me now. Vices from years past plague me still. We reside in our tiny house in our mid-sized suburb. It's a whiny, complain-y way to start off 2013, no? I wish I could look back and say I just sucked the life out of 2012.  That was my intention anyway. But I keep getting all caught up in my head, wondering what's God doing?  What does he have in store? And vascillating between waiting for life to start and pleading with it to slow down.
See why I haven't been blogging lately?  Who wants to listen to this?
In the past couple of years, I've been trying to focus my growth in the area of a word with which I feel God supplies me.  The past couple of years it has been surrender.  Again, I wish I could speak to great growth in this area.  It's slow in coming. This year I think God has a couple of things He wants to teach me and our entire family, for that matter.  The first is:
-wait. While I do some whining about how small our house feels and about the fact that life seems to be in a holding pattern (thus, no Christmas update), I sense God asking us to just be patient and stay put. He has us exactly where we are for a reason.
I have also felt a strong pull to the words gratitude and contentment. Because I think a lot of my struggle has to do with not being these things. This especially came to my attention during the most recent Christmas season when, despite my best efforts, I found myself all caught up in the consumeristic b.s. that tends to overshadow the true meaning of the time.
I don't know what 2013 will hold.  But I am entering into it, despite the disappointment of what last year was or wasn't,  with a great sense of hope and peace. That whatever comes our way, whether earth-shattering and new, or steeped in sameness, whether full of life or seemingly dull and dried up (even if that's just my words), God is in it.

Falling Forward

This is the amazing thing about writing, about words. When someone can say what's so exactly filling your heart and your mind.
Like this.

An Ache Unsoothed

Last week was Thanksgiving. Duh. And I LOOOOOVE this time of year.  Love it. Halloween always puts me off a little because it can be so nasty and expensive and greedy (candy! candy! candy!  And that's just coming from the mom and dad around here!). But then comes November with all its thankfulness and cool weather and anticipation of Christmas when we can focus on the ultimate Gift.  And in the midst of all this is family. This year I was beyond anxious to get back to the other side of the lake.  We hadn't visited our Michigan peeps since August. And that is just too too long for this girl. 
I've been a little homesick lately. Curiously, I often still refer to Michigan as "home" .  Sometimes I physically ache for it. Once in awhile even shed a few tears. I long for the people, obviously.  (Side note: I've come to understand that if you don't have friends and/or family there, you might not get how one can yearn for "Michigan people".  I did not understand what a breed apart "Michigan people" are considered until I moved to Chicago.  I stand by my homeland, however.)  But I also long for the decreased madness that can constitute the pace of life here, the sense of cohesive community, the scenery, the feel of Michigan sand between my toes. Back in high school, whenever I needed somewhere to go to clear my head, I'd hop in my car and drive out to the beach.  Even if I didn't get out once I got there, all I needed was to catch a glimpse of the waves at sunset or even by moonlight, and I felt a little more ready to face life.  It was a soothing destination. Here, if I hopped in my car to clear my head I'd probably end up in Nebraska or Alabama.
I think that the real issue here is a restlessness in my soul, something I have been trying to address and flesh out.  And that restlessness translates into a desire for change, a fresh start, going back to the roots. I know that a lot of this pondering is just an idyllic existence that I've built up in my mind about a small town. And I know that if I left this home, that I would be left missing my tribe here, the ones who have become my family. So it appears that I must resign myself to  some loss and longing in my life.
Which only makes sense, really, since what I'm really searching for is my true Home. Everything else here is just a substitute.

35 Things I've Learned in 35 Years

First of all, I'm on another life-changing book kick. I know. The book is called Organized Simplicity  by Tsh Oxenreider, and it is exactly the book I've needed to read for about a year now. Anyhoo...more on that another time.
I was reading on Tsh's blog and came across this post about the 35 things she's learned in her 35 years.  The list totally made me laugh and also nod my head in agreement. So I thought I'd post my own list of 35.  Which feels a little bit lame since I'm stealing the idea from someone else, but I'm a sucker for a good list, so I'm doing it anyway.

1) Treat others as you would want to be treated.
2) Show compassion.  I love this quote: "Be kinder than necessary for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle." -T.H. Thompson and John Watson
3) A life without coffee is not really a life.
4) God first - family second - career third
5) Legos are a blessing and a curse.
6) Trying to be anyone else other than yourself is exhausting and totally not worth it. And man, have I tried over the years.
7) On the heels of #6, do everything you can to learn about yourself and then find joy in using your own unique gifts and talents in all aspects of life, especially loving and serving others.
8) Surround yourself with people who encourage you and love you for who you are.  Count these people as your true friends, but show kindness to EVERYONE.
9) Live out of a grateful heart (I'm still working on this).
10) When upset or hurt or angry, take at least an hour before talking to anyone else about it (or putting it out on Facebook). Many hurt feelings and misdirected emails and unnecessary rants can be avoided this way.
11) This world is full of hurt and sorrow and disappointment.  Know that this is the reality, but rejoice in the good moments and know that God is present with you through the joy and the pain.
12) The Bible is life's most reliable road map.
13) Read, read, and read some more.
14) When feeling anxious in a social or public-speaking situation, fake it. No one will be able to tell you're nervous unless you let them see it.
15) God's plan is ALWAYS the best one.
16) There is a WORLD of parenting advice out there.  When in doubt, go with your gut.  And also, with your girlfriends. They know you best.
17) Everyone's normal until you get to know them. And then we're all just a little bit crazy together.
18) Pray. Persistently. In other words, PUSH (Pray Until Something Happens)
19) Not everyone you come in contact with is your mission.
20) In college, your plans for the evening will start at 10pm. At 35 this is most likely your bedtime. And this is ok.
21) Work on a 50/50 marriage. It's perfectly acceptable, and even preferable, not to operate out of gender stereotypes.See #22.
22) It's ok not to enjoy cooking as a woman! (It works even better when your man does.)
23) Discern between the mountains and the molehills. Don't lose sleep over the latter.
24) Dancing is almost always a good idea.  Drinking excessively (even when dancing) is pretty much always a bad idea.
25) Live within your means. Debt is bondage.  Do everything you can to live financially free.
26) Having "a place for everything and everything in its place" leads to a much clearer mind and less wasted time (ie: where are those freaking keys????!!!).
27) True peace is found in surrendering your own way and will in favor of God's.
28) Time flies by way too fast.  Enjoy the moment you're in.
29) Don't bother with new furniture when you have children. Particularly boys.
30) Know how much you can handle and then be at peace with that, no matter what anyone says.  You are the only one who can draw your boundaries.
31) Not everyone is going to like you.
32) You're only as old as you feel (this is not always a positive thing, but drink the life out of the age you are anyway).
33) The dishes can wait until tomorrow.
34) Learn to control the screens in your home.  Don't let them control you. (This is another one I'm still working on.)
35) Amazing girlfriends are worth their weight in expensive shoes. It's important to invest in close friendships. (None of my girlfriends actually wear really expensive shoes, least of all me, so I'm not totally sure what I meant by this.  Just that I love my friends a whole lot.)

Words

Words have had an irresistable pull on me from birth (so far as I know.  I draw a bit of a blank on the first three years or so.  And there are also a lot of empty spaces in years 4 through 35 as well.  Anyway....). I had grandparents who would read to me (even the ones who lived hundreds of miles away would send me tapes of them reading books), parents who read to me, a mom who modeled her love for reading and crosswords. Apparently I was so obsessed with words I felt it necessary to smuggle out books from the school library under my dress, a fact that was permanently recorded on my kindergarten report card.  My career as a klepto was short-lived, however, and I moved on to more constructive hobbies, such as learning to read the summer between kindergarten and first grade. And I don't think I've been without a book close by my person since. I would spend hours writing stories (mostly pretty terrible ones, to be honest) while growing up and, to toot my proverbial horn, won the Young Authors competition in third grade for the enthralling tale The Magical Mouse . I have piles of diaries and journals that hold my deepest secrets from my formative years (important things like, you know, the cutest boy in class and what I planned on wearing the next day to catch his eye. Which NEVER happened, first of all, and secondly I had zero style which is moot anyway because what fifth grade boy cares what you're wearing?!).
Words are my constant comfort.  From others' I draw encouragement, knowledge, a sense of camaraderie. They are what I use to work through how I feel and think about anything and everything.  It's criminal the level of release I feel  just by posting a Facebook status that reflects things that are happening in my heart and head. Words are the way I deal.
Sometimes I struggle with this whole having a blog thing.  By its very nature it seems that it should exist for people to read.  Right? I mean, seriously, it has the potential to be so public and all.  And so I get caught up in the comparison game and looking at all of these bloggers who do it for a LIVING, for crap's sake. Or who post something that speaks of my own mind and heart far more succinctly than I could. Or I stress over the fact that mostly what I'm writing seems like complete drivel and who would want to read that anyway? And then the answer comes: me. I write these things for ME.  This is how I process and work through and figure out.  This is my life and the things that I want to remember. And if someone should stumble across these words (or have them shoved down his/her throat by the author) and feel some encouragement or gain some knowledge or maybe even have a little chuckle then that's really just icing on the cake isn't it?  That's what I'm starting to think anyway.
"Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul." ~Anne Lamott

School's In!

And just like that, a new school year begins.



This day never ceases to fill me with conflicting emotions. There's some grief at the marching on of time that each new year represents. You might see the boy in the photo above.  I, however, see this:

At the same time, I wish I could say I wasn't that mom who eagerly awaits the start of school by the time August hits.  I WISH I could say that. But I am a creature of habit and loves me a schedule and routine. While we had an incredible summer filled with park visits, swimming, baseball games, family, friends, and leisure in abundance, it was with great excitement that we welcomed today. For Jeran (and, let's face it, for Mom too) there were still a few nerves about what to expect from second grade, its teacher, and its classmates. But they have significantly decreased compared to the last couple of years. You know, whatev, we've got the school thing down. 

It was with such pride that I left him this morning, watching him work the line for Room 107, greeting old and new friends alike.  I lingered in the background, shuffling away by inches, recognizing how much more rare these glimpses into his school self will become.

I thought I might tear up for a minute, then I considered dancing away in glee. But I settled for a backward glance and a smile, then contentedly turned for home with two more babies clinging to my hands.