Tag Archives: hard

Day 4: Izzy {#write31days}

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The only other female in our house, is our dog Izzy. She is my husband’s “daughter.” He loves her like a human being–they cuddle every night, and she craves his attention. Also, if the boys or I are messing with him in any way, all he has to do is say, “Izzy!” and she’s on the attack. I got her from a shelter six years ago as a Christmas gift for the hubby. For two years she was our only “child,” and she slept on our bed with us every night until baby boy two came along. She’s highly intelligent, fiercely loyal, active, loud, and loving. She also has lymphoma.

Izzy2008

We’ve known for a month now, and she’s on some medication to see if it will send it into remission–there’s a 50% chance. I dread the day–be is soon or far away that she is no longer with us. The boys LOVE her, and every time we walk in the door after being away, they say “Izzy!” and try to find her. Moving will be a HUGE adjustment, but losing Izzy will quite possibly be harder. Harder to explain, and I’m certain, will bring many more tears than packing boxes does. For now, hopefully we will fiercely love our crazy dog a fraction of the amount she loves us.

Izzy2014

 

Edited to add: On October 18, 2014, Izzy passed away in the arms of her “daddy.” We will forever miss her and are grateful for the way she fiercely loved us. 

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Make a Move {#write31days}

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I am joining The Nester and tons of other great bloggers for a challenge to #write31days. I could be absolutely insane adding this to my already full plate; however, I’m eager to use the accountability to increase my writing as well as connect with others across the ‘net.

I thought long and hard about what I could write about for 31 days–and I finally decided that I should just address the current challenge in my life–Making a Move. Our house is {finally} under contract, and we will need to be in a new place in a month! While my initial response is to absolutely FREAK. OUT. I’m reminding myself that God has got this–the birds of the air are taken care of and so am I!

 

Make a Move 300
Check back October 1st and the 30 days following to see how CRAZY life can be when you’re making a move and {hopefully} how to survive {and possibly thrive} in the middle of it all!

 

Sometimes he teaches me

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Ever had a bad night? Like a REALLY bad night? Like you actually have the thought that you need to escape the room/house or you may physically harm an animal or dog? I hope that’s not just me….

Bedtime can be an absolute beast at our house, especially on football nights. My boys are generally well-behaved, fun to be around, full of laughs and sweet. However, if Daddy is gone and it’s after 8 pm, it’s like a switch is flipped. I know there are many nights my attitude doesn’t help–by that time of day, I’m DONE. EXHAUSTED. Between, work, house showings, cooking, the everyday runnings of a household, being a wife and mom, I’m just plain TIRED. So when 9 pm rolls around and both boys are STILL GOING STRONG, I start to have a slight mental unhinging. (Also, it never fails, our dog will bark or pace at this point, which usually leads to me spouting obscenities at her–in my head.)

Recently, the hubby was gone to a middle school football game, and bed time came…after 49 minutes of rocking the baby brother, I attempted to just lay down with him. After an additional 20 minutes of literal kicking and babbling, big brother came to join us. The following 15 minutes consisted of a lot of threatening, then moving big brother to his room. Finally, the boys seemed to be calming down, but only after lots of tears and screaming. At long last, around 10:02 pm, baby brother fell asleep, and when I went to tuck big brother in, he looked at me and said, “Momma, I want God to help me take a nap.” Me too, little guy! Me too.

How often, do I NOT ask God to give me grace during what seem to be the small, mundane moments? I have a terrible voice that tells me He has bigger fish to fry, and my boys going to sleep is not something I need to trouble Him. How wrong! He cares about the everyday, mundane acts–the ones that seem so small but can so quickly become overwhelming. I’m hoping and praying that next time bedtime is a beast, and I’m doing it solo that I am reminded of my toddler’s sweet thought that “God can help us take a nap.”

Ambition?

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I’ve been mulling over something Mark Bearden said recently at our church, ANY goal, plan, or ambition that is not driven by the glory of God and the advancement of His Kingdom is selfish ambition. {I’ve paraphrased, as I don’t remember his exact words.}

This REALLY hit home–how often do I make plans, dream of the future, and not give any thought at all to the advancement of God’s Kingdom and HIS ultimate glory? Instead, I focus on what will bring me the most personal fulfillment, pleasure, praise or monetary gain.

I have dreams of operating a successful photography business, dreams of an Etsy store, dreams of being a SAHM/WAHM, dreams of gardens, and *gasp* maybe even a couple chickens and a compost bin. Are these things that I want to do for ME or will they bring God glory and honor? Will I advance His Kingdom and make His name known?

Will what I do MATTER in eternity?

Perhaps an update is appropriate…

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This will probably end up being a rather lengthy, random, catch-all post of sorts….perhaps I’ll find the time to add pictures later.

Summer is over. {Insert sad-face emoji here} I had some rather good intentions about blogging over the summer, but chose instead to ignore those intentions and focus on putting our house on the market. We spent June “playing”–zoo trips, parks, walks, play dates with friends, VBS, Jim Thorpe game, cleaning, decluttering, more cleaning, more decluttering. On July 1st, we met with a realtor, and by July 6th, our home was listed online with photos. Ever since, we’ve had a s t e a d y stream of showings along with one offer (the buyers backed out within two weeks of offering though). Unfortunately, things don’t seem to be moving very quickly. I’m learning more in this time than ever before to just trust God’s timing. He holds the world in His hands, so I’m pretty sure He can handle the selling of our place. Also, since football season is in full swing, I’m not too keen on someone buying it *NOW* because I’d end up doing 90% of the packing, searching for a new place, and the stressing. Oh and  Mom and I have less than a month before Junk Hippy, so there’s that….

Basically, life is busy, overwhelming, and I’m having to DAILY choose to meditate on Isaiah 26:3-4, “You will keep {her} in perfect peace, because {she} trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for in God the Lord, we have an everlasting rock.”

I.T.S. {Irrational Toddler Syndrome}

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My kid has ITS. I don’t need a doctor’s diagnosis. I just know. Sometimes I wish there was a “quick fix,” a pill, or anything other than my desperate R E P E A T E D attempts to bestow some sort of logic or reason into my child. Don’t misunderstand, my boy is a JOY, a BLESSING, and I wouldn’t give him up for all the world…however, there are times when I think it is SO odd that a person of such small stature can have such strong, absolutely INSANE opinions. And without fail, his irrationality can cause me to lose my mind and become irrational as well. Is ITS contagious?!? I’m sure my baby will catch on soon.

ITS

 

Some irrational behaviors include:

  • any drop of water on any article of clothing means ALL clothes must come off IMMEDIATELY. (perhaps he’ll melt if not?)
  • related to water on clothing…washing his hair. I’ve been afraid that the neighbors will report us for disturbing the peace or domestic disturbance. If you listen in on a hair washing, you would probably assume he’s being murdered.
  • tags on clothing…remove all the tags! (if not extreme whining and somewhat comical attempts at removing the clothing will ensue)
  • a deathly fear of spiders (but he’ll kill a fly or squish a worm with his bare hands)
  • if he’s cold, then a blanket must cover E V E R Y inch of him up to his neck. If any appendage is peeking out from under said blanket, prepare for wailing and gnashing of teeth.
  • swings and slides–he must be coaxed to do any of them alone, but if he’s playing with friends, he’ll be quick to find the top of the slide. (We’re still trying to convince him that he’s “too big” for the baby swing. Pops attempted a little over Easter weekend. He LOVED it on Pops’ lap, but HATED it on his own.)

ITS2

If anyone knows of a cure for ITS, I’d love to hear it. For now, we use bribery, distraction, discipline, prayer…and we cut tags out of clothing, avoid spiders and wet shirts, and rarely wash hair.DSC_6071web

I’m sure someday we’ll look back and laugh at this. In the meantime, we’re gonna work on explaining 1 Timothy 1:7 “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a SOUND MIND.”

Three is HARD

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Someone should’ve warned me just how difficult a three-year-old can be. I’ve always heard about the “terrible twos,” perhaps I’m looking back with rose-colored glasses, but in our house, 2 didn’t seem all that terrible. Sure there were tantrums, the whole potty-training bit, and general neediness, but that was nothing compared to 3. When did this adorable, intelligent, energetic baby become such a demanding, constantly negotiating, very opinionated child? One minute he’s strangling his baby brother and the next he’s saying, “I love you mama” in an aren’t-I-so-sweet-and-innocent voice.

This morning was especially hard. Dadda had to be at a powerlifting meet by 6:30, which meant everyone was awake extra early–like 5:45 AM. (In my honest, accurate opinion, if the sun is not up, then I shouldn’t be either.) Curious George was not the babysitter I hoped for, so anything more than 10 minutes for shower, make-up, etc. was out of the question for this momma. Both boys needed to be held and cuddled, and it’s times like this that I wonder why God didn’t give parents more arms.  Sadly, when both are crying and having meltdowns, I tend to have less patience (and since it was 6:15 AM on a Friday, I had zero patience) with my three year old. I know I should be more understanding….he was INSISTENT on wearing his basketball pants. (Again, I needed a warning that my 3 year old boy would have such strong opinions about his wardrobe.) Unfortunately, someone is behind on laundry and the basketball pants aren’t clean which caused an even bigger melt down, and it was all down hill from there. After lots of tears, the forceful putting on of pants, we loaded up and headed to school. I felt a wave of relief when I dropped the boys off, followed by immediate guilt.

Sure, three is hard. But three is also very entertaining, imaginative, inquisitive, and just plain fun. I love his constant questions, his playful imagination, his need for social interaction and the great outdoors. I love that he wants to read books over and over and play “school.” I love how he {sometimes} want to play with his younger brother (this of course is short-lived because the next minute he’s pushing or choking him).  I’m certain every age will be hard, but I don’t want to waste the time I’m given with them. I don’t want to react in anger or not have any patience just because it’s still dark outside on a Friday morning. My boys are not inconveniences. They are precious gifts. I can only pray that God’s grace will be sufficient, that His power and strength will be evident in  my NUMEROUS weaknesses.

On another note, I’ve discovered that I tend to accompany apologies with food…like, “I’m sorry this morning is rough. Want to grab a donut before school?” Pretty sure my boys will be in therapy someday for emotional eating…

On my baby turning 3

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Well today my first born is three years old. I’m going in a corner to cry now.

Actually, I’ve already cried. The hardest days to go to work are birthdays and those in-between are they sick or not days. I always have grand ideas–lots of balloons in the floor of his room for when he wakes up, candles in some pancakes, rent a fun new movie, cuddle and enjoy the day. Instead, I’m monitoring computer screens, teenagers, and researching political propaganda resources for teachers. (Today didn’t help that I overslept. Staying up until 1 am no longer works for me.)

On a positive note, my baby is 3! He’s potty-trained, can feed himself, be left alone in a room or bath tub (for the most part), and he’s one of the greatest sources of joy in my life. We have hard days, but he puts so many smiles on my face. I told him a couple days ago that he was going to be THREE. He said, “No, Momma, I not three, I Cannon.” 🙂 I love my smart boy. The best part of my day so far was when he came to grab my leg and asked, “hold me, momma?” He’s getting pretty big to hold, but I plan on saying yes to that question as long as possible. No matter how late I am.

Happy 3rd birthday to my red-headed, ever-moving, passionate, full-of-life baby!