I'm Tired.

I'm tired. I am tired of my uncooperative back. I'm tired of not being able to walk normally or stand up without wincing. I am tired of tantrums and complaints. I am tired of little boys peeing on the couch. I'm tired of looking at our gross, dirty green carpet. I'm tired of not being able to vacuum it.

I'm tired of our two-day rotation of oatmeal and cereal, or our three-day rotation of ham and swiss, grilled cheese, and peanut butter and jelly. I'm tired of looking in the pantry, desperate for some new dinner ideas, and not coming up with much. I'm tired of eating chicken.

I'm tired of constantly feeling behind with the organic and whole foods trend. It seems like I can never measure up in this strange new world of juicing and carrot and spinach shakes. I mean, who wants to drink a spinach shake? I prefer chocolate. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not giving my kids the very best because I still give them goldfish crackers for a snack. I'm tired of comparing myself with others. 

But most of all, I'm tired of being tired.

I wish that I had boundless energy, this crazy excitement about mom-life that just comes gushing out of me every which way. I wish that I had never-ending patience and a constant smile and all the answers to domestic bliss.

I don't have those things.

But I do have a four year old little girl who stood next to me at the sliding glass door today.

“You're sad, mom.”

“Yeah, I'm a little sad.”

“Why are you sad?”

It kind of jolted me, her question. It made me realize that it's not just about me. When I'm upset, they see it. They understand. They're old enough to start connecting some dots.

And I don't want them to grow up thinking that I'm tired of them.

Because, the truth is, all the stuff that comes with being a mom (or dad) is hard. It's a lot of work. There are easy days and not-so-easy days. There are fun times and not-so-fun times. But the truth is, I really like my life.

And I'm tired, but I'm not tired of them.

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The Things That I Want and The Things That I Have

Today Daniel had five accidents. Five.

Two of them happened in a row as we were walking out the door to go to Silas's check up at the doctor. We were already late.

I couldn't understand why he didn't just go to the bathroom. Why? After I got him in front of the potty, I had to stand in another room while he finished up. I was very close. To losing it.

And I am exhausted. I am so tired. I can't keep my eyes open and I don't know why I'm still awake. Except that there's something kind of therapeutic in just typing out my thoughts, stream of consciousness style.

So, here goes.

Today was so hard that I am glad to see it's over. The kids are in bed. I think they're asleep. I need a break. A real break, not just a pop into the nearest book store kind of break, but the kind where it's okay to wake up late and I can go to the bathroom without worrying what the one year old is getting into. The kind where it's a reality that I can just hop on my bike and ride to the nearest coffee shop. And then I can sit there and drink a cup of coffee. Or two. I want time. Some real time to just be. I want freedom. Some real freedom to come and go as I please. With just me and my keys and maybe another cup of coffee. I want to sit on the beach and close my eyes and listen to the sea gulls and kids playing and know that I don't have to keep half an eye (or both eyes all the time) on them.

Those are the things that I want.

But what I have is an office chair and a computer desk and a very worn and very cozy blue blanket on my lap. And I have the sound of the water filter in the turtle tank we just set up this week. That's nice. It's like a water feature and it makes me wonder why we haven't kept fish before. I love the sound. I have a warm house and a warm bed with not one, but two warm blankets. I have flowers and strawberries and new baby radishes coming up in the backyard. We just saw them for the first time today. That was fun. And I have three sleeping children in their beds. And they are good. They are hard. They are maybe the hardest thing I've ever done. But they are so good.

Those are the things that I have.

I suppose, in the end, that's not such a bad list. In fact...I kind of have a lot.  

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Manners (and what I bought at Home Depot)

I am working to teach my kids good manners.

I really am.

But in the mean time.... must they comment on how funny a man's hair looks while he's standing right there? He had dreads, for the record. That happened a week ago at Target. I was embarrassed.

Today we went to Home Depot to buy some new pots and plants. Yay! I love Home Depot. I hated it when I was a kid, but today I could spend hours walking around that store and dreaming.

I digress.

I decided our patio needed some color. So off we went, with the promise that the kids could help pick out the pots and plants if they behaved. They did. Sort of.

"You're bigger than my dad!!" (that was Daniel, commenting on the size of the gentleman standing behind us in line.)

"Why can't I look through the crack in the door?" (Natalie. I had just told her to stop that when I noticed she was trying to peer into a stall in the bathroom. It was occupied.)

"Look! He's an employee! How does that apron stay on?" (Daniel again. Okay, this one isn't so bad, but it's another example of talking - no shouting - about someone while they're standing right there.)

By the time we left the store, I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. I'm sure my face was red. I felt hot and frazzled and really just wanted to get outside with my nosy, un-self-aware preschoolers. They aren't bad kids, but, man, do they know how to embarrass me sometimes.

Here's what we ended up getting, by the way. Natalie chose these pink flowers. I threw the card away before I could get their name through. Bummer. I chose those yellow Chrysanthemums in the back. They remind me of fall, and I could use a bit of fall in this 90 degree heat we're having. 

I've had the aloe plant for awhile now, and he seems pretty happy in the back yard. Daniel chose those little red flowers, since red is his favorite color (along with orange). I threw the card away before I got the name of those, too. Sigh.

The whole family, all together. :) I've got a couple extra teeny tiny pots for something...not sure what yet. They're pretty small. That big plant on the far right is a tough one. I've tried killing it several times because it was in the way. I know, terrible, especially because it makes awesome, deep purple flowers. I just transplanted it to this giant pot the other day to give it a permanent home. Now I hope that I haven't killed it. I think he'll make it. He's a fighter.

Another view, with our bird bath in the back there.

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Living in the Tension

Yesterday was hard. I came face to face for the first time in a while with the reality that I have absolutely no idea how to live in the tension. 

There is a part of me, not insignificant, that wants to completely disconnect from society. To go all granola and homestead and homeschool and do earthy things like make my own deodorant. 

And there's an equally significant part of me that wants a new floor. And to remodel our kitchen, take out a few walls, and create the kind of oasis that I see plastered all over the internet. 

Why? 

Here's the deal: motives. 

Why do I want to disconnect? I know why. It's because I think, somehow, it'll be easier. Easier to follow God, easier to keep my eyes on what they're supposed to be on, easier to be an island with no distractions. Nothing to pull me away. 

Sounds awfully holy, doesn't it? 

I think it's a lie. And it's a cop out. Instead of facing the hard stuff and choosing God, I just want to run away. That's not choosing God.

Why do I want wood floors? On the surface, because I think they look nice. Underneath, because I want other people to think my house looks nice. Enviable, even. 

Sometimes it's scary what I find inside of myself. 

The answer isn't swinging between one extreme or the other. 

God hasn't called me to live out in the boonies. He's put me right here in Jax Beach. He's called us to live in community with one another, to help each other forward, to serve each other. He's called us to go through life's ups and downs, and He continues to call us to choose Him in the face of temptation. 

And spending all of my energy thinking about flooring is a waste. A waste of time and a waste of my gifts. And it's neglectful. Because if I spend all of my energy on something so temporary, then I'm neglecting the eternal stuff. You know, the stuff that matters. 

The answer is to live somewhere in between. Staying connected, staying grounded. Building my life on a solid foundation, not being carried away by the whims of the internet. One quiet time at a time. 

The answer is God Himself. I won't discover how to live in the tension through a self-help book. It is only with God. This whole thing, life, only works with God. 

Knowing the answer is the easy part. Now to live it.

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Two Secrets to Help You Get the Job Done

Let's be honest. Not many people are thrilled by the prospect of Monday and all that it means. Monday means work. Monday means drudgery. Monday means repetition and day in/day out and watching the clock.

Well, it can mean those things.

If I'm being totally transparent, then what you need to know about me is that I don't really like working. It's just not that fun. But I love the satisfaction I get from finishing a job.

When I started reading about command centers and family binders a couple years ago, I rolled my eyes at them. Pshaw. Family command center. Who needs one of those?

Turns out, this girl. I love lists. I love checking things off. I love having a place to put things and I love knowing where to look to retrieve those things. So, what did I do? I made myself a bonafide family command center, complete with family binder. Nerdy? Maybe. Helpful? You bet.

This little hutch is tucked in an out of the way corner of my kitchen. It holds vases, my favorite coffee mugs, extra plates, fruit colander, and various bowls and nik naks. And, on the very bottom shelf is - you guessed it - the Family Command Center. And some potatoes.

That thin binder on the left holds a bunch of owner's manuals. But that thick binder. That is what I want to talk to you about today.

That binder is holding my life together.

Okay, that's a little dramatic. But seriously (it's holding my life together).

Inside that binder is one little list in particular that I use every single day. It's called Daily Chores*, and on it I've included all the little chores that I feel are important to complete every day.

After we finish breakfast in the morning, I take it out and check off "breakfast." Then I get started right away with morning dishes and a load of laundry. I send the kids off to do their morning chores and check those off when they're complete. Since I love checking things off, I even included things like my own morning shower.

The First Secret

Okay, you want to know the first secret? It's not that the list I've created is terribly special. And I haven't discovered some crazy new technique that helps me get the job done. The secret, for me anyway, is sticking to a routine. Figuring out how to order my morning and doing it the same way. Every. single. day.

The time of day doesn't matter as much - it's the routine that's important for me. In the past, after breakfast, I've sort of gotten up and wondered what we were going to do next. Today, after breakfast, I pull out that binder, check off my first chore, and get started with the next one. And then the next one. It's a beautiful thing.

The Second Secret

Getting started right away is important for me. So important that I'm calling it the second secret. Don't wait until nap time to get started with daily chores. I used to do that. And I'd never be able to finish everything during nap and run out of time after nap...which made me feel incredibly stressed out all the time. Start right after breakfast - just dive in and knock out as many as you can.

Toward the end of the morning, our days become less structured. Some days we might go to a park or the beach. Some days we might run a few errands or visit friends. Some days we might stay home and play in the yard or pool. And after school starts in a couple of weeks, I'll have to modify our routine to include school stuff. The point is, we're able to play during the middle of the day because we've already taken care of so many chores.

*I'm making this list, as well as a Weekly Chores list, available for free download. If you're looking for a place to start, I would encourage you to print them out and use them for as long as you want. But since every home is different, every chores list will vary somewhat. Use my list as a springboard and then modify it as you see the need arise. 

These lists began as a compilation of various lists that I've seen over the years, but have been changed to fit our family. 

Daily Chores list

Weekly Chores list

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Thoughts on Work.

Lately I've been loving my work.*

Wanna know why?

It's because I've been doing it.

Funny thing. The more you do what is required of you, the more satisfied you feel at the end of the day. 

But let me back up.

As the summer has worn on, and really over the last year or so, I've been feeling more and more unmotivated. More and more like I just really didn't want to do anything, let alone the dishes. Or entertaining two preschoolers and a baby...or the laundry, the bathrooms and the floors. In fact, what I really wanted to do was go to the beach. By myself. To lay out and look at a magazine.

Here's the problem with not wanting to do anything. The problem is that I still had an entire day to fill and three kids to...do something with. Something. And at the end of every day, days of not really doing what was required of me, I would feel sort of empty. Not to mention the house. I felt like I was being buried under the sheer magnitude of housework. And nothing ever felt clean. 

Not a good way to end the day. 

So I made some changes and it's been so, so good. I certainly don't have it all figured out. And there are plenty of days that the laundry doesn't get done, or the dishes sit in the sink until dinnertime. But I am making an effort to create habits that will help me run my house effectively. And truly, I've been happier. And I want to be happier. Not just for me, but for my husband and my kids. 

With that being said, I wanted to take a moment to reflect on some work-related principles that have been swishing around my head lately.

1. First, let me define what I mean by work. This is my own personal definition, though I'm sure it's not original. When I talk about work, what I mean is the thing that God has given you to do right now. You might be getting paid in dollars for it, you might not. But if it's where you're supposed to be, doing what you're supposed to be doing, then it's your work. 

Morning dishes. I try to do the morning dishes right after breakfast. Every. single. day.

And then I can look at this the rest of the day. Ah....

2. Work gives your life meaning. It's true. I'm kind of hesitant to make this blanket statement because I'm afraid it will be misinterpreted, so let me explain what I mean. First of all, refer to thought #1, above. Work is not necessarily your current job, but rather, it's what God has given you to do right now. It can also be your current job. If God has given you some work to do (and, if you follow Him then I believe He has), then that work will bring meaning to your life. It's why you're here. It's what you're supposed to do. 

3. When you neglect your work, you begin to feel unmotivated. Speaking from personal experience, I know this to be true. Right now, my work is in my home. I'm raising three small children. I'm keeping up with the house. I'm running errands and coming up with learning activities for the kids and teaching them to relate to others in acceptable ways. 

And you know what? It's incredibly easy to neglect all of it. To not clean the bathrooms this week, or to turn on the TV for just a little while, or to ask my husband to pick up a few things from the grocery store on his way home. Because I didn't feel like going.

 And the more I neglect it, the less motivated I feel to start working again later. Truly. It's kind of a vicious cycle, because the less you work, the more of a mess everything gets - and then it becomes this monster of a chore on your back. Which makes you want to get to it even less... and so you turn on the TV for the kids and cruise Pinterest. 

4. On the other hand, when you fulfill your work, you feel fully satisfied at the end of the day. That is the best feeling - sitting down, knowing you've accomplished whatever it was you were supposed to do that day. It's so sweet. And so worth it.

I'm trying to fold it as soon as it comes out of the dryer - doesn't always happen, but it feels good when it does.

5. And then there's Sunday. I totally believe in the value of taking one day a week as a Sabbath. A day where you do no work. My husband and I are still working on this one, but we try to completely unplug on Sunday. I don't do any housework. He doesn't do any of the chores on his list. He doesn't take phone calls for his job. We give ourselves permission to nap. And it's nice. It's so nice. But you know what? When I was in that vicious cycle of neglecting my work during the week it felt kind of wrong to take a rest on Sunday. Rest? I'd been resting all week long. 

In order for the Sabbath day to be what it's supposed to be, you have to work the rest of the week. It doesn't make sense to rest on the Sabbath otherwise. Right?

Here's what I don't want to happen. I don't want you to read this post and suddenly feel overwhelmed that you're not doing enough, that you're falling short in some way. If the dishes didn't get done because you were spending time with your kids, then that's okay. Don't beat yourself up because there are crumbs on the counter (I have dry oatmeal on my kitchen counter right now). This post was written out of my own serious neglect of my work...which is something I am still learning not to do.

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*At the beginning of this post, I told you that I have been loving work. I feel that I need to take a moment to clarify. It doesn't light up my world to scrub the toilet bowl. I hate it. It's gross. But I do love when it's clean. And what I love even more is doing what I'm supposed to be doing throughout the day. That's a fantastic feeling. For real.

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Good Enough

Being a girl is hard. 

I should know. I've been one for 32 years. 

I don't know why, but I have always felt this unspoken pressure to be good enough. To fit in. To be wanted enough to hang out with. Maybe it's normal? 

I don't really know for sure of course, what's going on internally with other girls (well, women. I guess I can call myself a woman, now), but I believe that my insecurities in the girl department are pretty widespread. 

It's a struggle to grow up.

And it starts so early. My heart aches for my little daughter, only 4 years old, and she's already feeling it - that same pressure to be good enough. Sometimes I watch her and her little friends play, and I just want to step in and remind them all to love each other, to value each other. To not be so concerned with whether or not others like you, and instead concern yourself with liking others. 

But I'm afraid that it doesn't work that way. Everybody has to figure it out for themselves. In fact, I'm still figuring it out. 

Oh, how I want to protect her! To keep her from feeling left out, singled out, pushed out. I had such a hard time with all of that growing up...and I don't want to watch Natalie go through the same stuff.

I can't. Quite simply - I can't. 

But you know what I can do? I can teach her two very important things.

1. She is special, and she is loved. It is so important for all of us to know, beyond any doubt, that we are, in fact, good enough. 

Tell them in a million different ways, speaking whatever love language they hear, that they are good enough. Remind them daily that they are special. Give them every reason to believe that they belong, and that they are wanted, and that they didn't get here by accident - they were meant to be here. 

Then, maybe she'll remember that when the world will try to tell her otherwise. Maybe she'll listen the truth when her heart wants to lie to her.

2.  And then...teach her to pass on that truth. Tell others that they are good enough. As much as I don't want to see her get beat up emotionally, I don't want to watch her do it to others. 

I read a book back when Natalie was a baby called The First 3 Years of Life, by Burton L. White. One of the things he said in that book that has stuck with me ever since is that it's important for us to teach our kids that they are incredibly special...but no more special than anyone else. 

They need to come to terms with the fact that they are not the center of the universe and that they have a responsibility to be careful with others. 

I love that - be careful with others. They can break. And it's really hard to put them back together when they do.

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The Floor Pillow That Nearly Killed Me

This is the floor pillow that nearly killed me.

"Could you make a floor pillow?" she asked. "It's for our new family room at the church."

"Sure," I said.

Easy, I thought. I'm an expert, my mind added.

Well. Not quite an expert. I've made exactly one.

Before this one. Now I've made two. But this one nearly killed me.

"It didn't nearly kill you," my husband suggested. "It just taught you some things."

Oh yeah.

He's right.

So I give you, in no particular order, the things the-floor-pillow-that-nearly-killed-me taught me:

1. Figure out your steps before you start a new project. I will probably never learn this one properly. It's just not my style to sit down and plan everything out beforehand.

But it's true. A little planning here would have saved me a lot of heartache.

Exhibit A.

This is the point at which I should have sewn on my industrial zipper. But since I didn't plan my steps beforehand, I didn't know that. And by the time I was thinking zipper, most of the rest of the pieces were already sewn together...making it very difficult to sew on a zipper for a complete zipper novice. Which is what I am.

Live and learn, man.

2. Don't curse in front of your kids. It's good to have a project every once in a while to remind you that this is never a good idea. Ever.

3. Procrastination is the enemy.

"I'm an expert."

"I can knock this thing out in two days, tops."

"I've still got a week."

"I've still got a few days."

"Oh, gosh, it needs to be ready tomorrow?"

You'd think, being in my 30's and having graduated from high school and college, that I would've learned this by now. But I have not.

4. Your fabric doesn't hate you. I'm still not sure about this one. Or how it happened that none of my pieces were square by the end. I'm pretty sure I cut them square. But they didn't end up that way. What in the world, man?

5. You can always hide the bad part.

Hallelujah!

6. Patience. Whatever you do, don't throw your machine across the room.

Take breaks when you need them. This tip works really well with number 3. If you haven't waited til the end, then you have the freedom to get away from it for a little while before coming back. I did leave myself enough wiggle room to take breaks. And I always felt refreshed and ready to tackle the challenge when I sat down again.

7. Use Fiberfill from old pillows. 

This one only works if you're not squeamish. But seriously, fiberfill isn't cheap.

I decided to stuff my first pillow with 2 small bags of fiberfill at 10 bucks a pop. Then I had a whole lot of empty pillow and not a whole lot of money, so I got creative. I cut up half a bag of old baby clothes destined for Goodwill and threw them in there. I thought it was such a great idea until I sat on it. My advice? Don't go that route. It's lumpy.

So...It would have taken 7 to 10 bags at least to fill this giant pillow. That's a lot of money for an "affordable" homemade floor pillow. So I bought some throw pillows from Goodwill. I smelled them. I inspected them for anything undesirable. Then I ripped those babies open and gloried in all the awesomely-almost-free fiberfill.

You know those scenes in movies where the main character finds a treasure chest filled with gold coins and precious stones? And they always end up throwing the gold everywhere? Now I know why they do that.

Floor pillow insert, newly stuffed with old fiberfill. Not lumpy.

8. Have the right equipment before you begin. Sigh. If you do not have the right equipment, you will begin to hate something when things go terribly wrong.

Remember this picture from above?

All those awful ugly stitches are the result of not having a proper zipper foot for my sewing machine. I used what I thought was the zipper foot...but upon closer inspection, it was wider. It had two sides. Almost like someone thought, "Hey, let's make this easier. Let's make it so that this foot allows you to sew on either side of the zipper." Which is great, except that that makes the foot twice as wide. And completely ineffective (if it was actually a zipper foot at all).

I realized this all too late. But by that point I was a quarter of the way done, so I barreled ahead, hoping for the best. The best did not happen. And I ended up hand sewing a bunch of stitches just to clean up my mess.

Grr. All because of a little extra metal.

9. Keep going. Sometimes it's good to do projects for other people. If this was a personal project, I might have quit at least 3 different times. And then I would never have learned how to actually install a zipper.

Something my husband reminded me of when I was nearly in tears last Saturday. I did not appreciate it at the time.

...but he was right.

10. There is light at the end of the tunnel.

This is the most important one: eventually you will be done.

And we almost always are our own worst critic.

The pillow isn't perfect, but this is:

It's good to stretch yourself. It reminds you that you haven't got it all figured out yet. It teaches you to lean on someone else when you know you can't do it by yourself. 

And it's good to serve, to give, especially when it's really a sacrifice. David said one time that he wouldn't offer a sacrifice that didn't cost him anything (2 Samuel 24:24). The ones that cost us something are the ones that mean the most.

And that's what the-floor-pillow-that-nearly-killed-me taught me.

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Digging Holes

In the years leading up to my 16th birthday, I thought there was something magical about small used car lots, the shady kind where sales guys wore checked blazers and had pencil-thin mustaches.

 My first car, a 1979 Chevy Malibu. How I loved you.

I believed that this - THIS - was a place where all my dreams could come true.

So many memories...like the time that we almost didn't make it to the top of the Dames Point Bridge.

In the end, I didn't end up buying my first car from one of those lots, probably to my benefit. But it didn't change my burning desire to spend some time looking at the cars there.

Or repairing the starter every few months.

I do not burn with desire to see a used car lot anymore.

I like to think that I've grown up a little bit. After all, that was half a lifetime ago. I've moved on.

I will never forget you, '79.

To Home Depot.

These days, based on the way I've been behaving lately, you'd think Home Depot is the center of all things magical in my world.

(Oh, those wood floors! Ah - the appliances, stainless steel! Look! Tile backsplash! Countertops! Faucets! Fixtures - oh my!)

It's frustrating. Why can't I move past this disease of wanting things? It's like digging a hole at the beach. You remove some wet sand only to have your hole fill with more wet sand. You won't ever have an empty hole. It will always fill with something.

So I guess the question isn't, "Why can't I move past this disease of wanting things?" I know the answer to that question. It's because I'm human. We all want things. If it wasn't a widespread disease, there wouldn't be so many expressions to describe it, like "keeping up with the Joneses." 

No. I think the question should be, "What am I going to let my hole fill up with?" Because it will always fill with something. I can be passive and sort of helplessly watch it fill with wet sand. 

Or I could put something else there instead.

A devout life does bring wealth, but it's the rich simplicity of being yourself before God. Since we entered the world penniless and we will leave it penniless, if we have bread on the table and shoes on our feet, that's enough. 

1 Timothy 6:6-8

The Message

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