My Signature

My oldest son has a cast on his right arm. This is what I would sign on his cast if there was room:


"Dear M- I was hoping that this cast would slow you down a bit. Sort of like an imaginary shackle to keep you chained to me for awhile longer. Then, I could hold you like I did when you were a baby. I could look into your beautiful, striking blue eyes and enjoy your infectious smile. You would say, "Mommy, I need you" or "Mommy, I want you". Everyone used to laugh at you because you would say those words so fast, it sounded like one word. Well, you're not a baby anymore. You're my big boy with a broken arm. It hurts me to see you hurt because I love you so. I love your tender, compassionate heart. I love the way you view the world. I love how you would help the hungry, needy, and oppressed by simply inviting them to our house so that we could care for them. I love your spirit. I love you. Love- Momma"

I opted to write, "MOM" on his upper arm. Like on of the old homemade tattoos. He didn't like it though, because I put a heart in place of the letter "o". Big boys don't have hearts on their casts.

Planned Obsolescence

Overnight, I became "Mom" instead of "Momma". I think my five year old tried to set a record by using the word "mom" in a sentence as many times as she could to drive this point home. She is through with the whole "Momma" thing. She has been her own person since day one. If I could write a sentence to describe her, it would be: "I'll do it by myself!" *emphasis not mine. Most mothers would be thankful for her independence and self-motivation. I am to a degree, but I start thinking, "what does she need me for?" The truth is, she does need me. She needs me to be an example to her. To tame her little wild heart, to help her to realize God's plan and purpose for her life, to prepare her for marriage and parenthood. To teach her. There, I feel better already.


"Likewise, teach the older women to be reverent in the way they live, not to be slanderers or addicted to much wine, but to teach what is good. Then they can train the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, to be busy at home, to be kind, and to be subject to their husbands, so that no one will malign the word of God." Titus 2:3-5

Motherhood

I remember being normal at one point in my life. It didn't last too long. Probably less than 2 years. Then, I became a mother. While I was pregnant, I had the same delusions that every mother-to-be has. Our new little family would be like a magazine ad. You know the ones where everyone is wearing white and they have perfect bodies, teeth, and hair. We would be smiling and looking lovingly down at our perfect bundle of joy we had created. He/she would be sleeping in their perfectly decorated nursery and would wake up smiling; eager for another day. If I could make a screeching halt noise with my computer, here is where it would be inserted. We did have our little bundle of joy, but I stayed in my pajamas for 3 months. I'm pretty sure I brushed my teeth and hair, but have no real proof. I woke up one morning, my gown soaked with milk. As soon as I picked up the baby, he peed all over me. It seems "Luvs" don't stop "Leaks". I fed him and he spit up on me. It's 7 am, I'm covered in three bodily fluids and only one belongs to me. Where are the white clothes and the perfect teeth and hair? Where's the perfect nursery? And while I'm asking, where's my perfect body I was promised if I chose to breastfeed?
Now there are three perfect bundles of joy. I am no longer delusional (atleast, about motherhood). I have realized that my children, are just that; "my" children. Not the ones in the magazine ads. I wouldn't trade them for the world. I wouldn't trade sticky kisses, my good underwear that was washed and dried with orange crayon, my Bible that my daughter decided needed some pictures, "tuckling" them in at night. I am so overwhelmed with the job I have before me. It is only because I want to do this right. God has promised me that "His grace is sufficient for me" and I believe that He will make up for my shortcomings. I am so unbelievably thankful to God for these blessings. There is no greater profession than motherhood.

All Before 10 AM

All before 10 AM today:

My oldest wrote a story

My daughter cut her own hair with scissors I left out.

My baby pooped in the potty for the first time and shredded half a roll of toilet paper.

Just things I wanted to remember about today.

Seek Professional Help

This is an adjunct to "Replace All Divots"

"Get that kid a haircut!"

"That boy needs a haircut!"

These are statements I've been hearing for a couple of months now. I realize that it needs done, but I'm hesitant to do so. For one, he's the baby. Two, he's the only one of my children to have any hair to speak of before age 2.

mul-let: "hairstyle short on top and long in back." online etymology dictionary

Once this terminology was used, I had no choice. I was looking at his blonde curls from behind. Beautiful....if you're a girl. I was at my parent's house, so I asked my mom if she had any scissors I could use. I'm not usually so impulsive, but I thought, "how hard can it be?" When will I learn? Afterward, I couldn't look at the poor child without conjuring up images from "Dumb and Dumber". My husband came home and said to me, "What happened here?" and then quoted a line from the movie, "Dumb and Dumber". I was hoping he wouldn't notice. Oh well!

All's well that ends well. The professionals at "Cookie Cutters" fixed my disaster.

Replace All Divots

In an effort to save a little money, I decided that I would try my hand at shaping my own eyebrows. (For those of you who see me in person, resist the urge to stare and go on about your business!) While preparing my little "kit", my daughter asks me, "Mommy, what is that?
"It's wax, dear."
"Well, what's it for?"
"It's so mommy can fix her eyebrows so it doesn't look like there are two fuzzy caterpillars crawling above my eyes." (Humor is lost on children, or so I thought)
"Well, it looks like there are and they're gonna kiss!"

Can you say "Unibrow"?

Minimalist

I am a minimalist. I prefer not to label myself as anything other than "Christian wife and mother", but if I must put a name to it, "minimalist" would be it. I would rather call it "resourceful, creative, and a good steward of things", but that would be too wordy. I don't belong to any extremist groups (Yet! Although, I am considering starting one. It would be called "Mothers Against Toys" M.A.T for short). Anyone with children knows that being a mother and a minimalist do not go hand-in-hand. We have toys like the Israelites had quail. Coming out of our noses (quite literally, in some cases). The other day I was wading through a sea of megablocks to get to my stove. My two older children had taken the baby's 200 piece set (not 100, 200) and scattered them everywhere and (guess what) left with my husband. I'm cooking dinner and watch as the baby forgoes the blocks and gets out a metal mixing bowl, a can of olives, a can of spinach, and a can of coconut milk, and proceeds to stack them. I started thinking, "Finally, someone gets me!". I'm not sure what that says about me, that an eighteen month old "gets me". Oh well. Let's see if I can get away with that refrigerator box I've been eyeing for his second birthday!