Make a Move {#write31days}

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!

 

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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!

 

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Sometimes he teaches me

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?

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…

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.”

Well, poop.

Almost four years ago, I was expecting my first child. With that came certain expectations–in all honesty, I wanted a girl. I wanted a dainty, precious, tender-hearted sweet girl who would sleep on a schedule, never get into anything dirty, play with dolls, and paint nails. God has a sense of humor, and at times it seems a little twisted to me. Four years and two boys later there is nothing dainty about our house, and there is LOTS. OF. DIRT. See this precious face….would you guess that this face has to be washed EVERY night because it’s usually covered in dirt, snot, food, and who knows what else?

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That sweet face, well, he ate poop. The hubby and I were sanding and cleaning off the siding on the house in an effort to get ready to sell (whole other post), and the boys were playing at their sand table. I glanced to do a check and make sure they were still getting along somewhat peacefully. I was puzzled when I noticed H was chewing something with a rather disgusted look on his face. Immediate panic set in when I crammed my fish-hook finger in his mouth to scrape out what he was chewing…poop. Dang dog poop. In four years we’ve had our fair share of poop encounters, but this was the grossest to me…my child was eating poop. I debated googling what to do, but figured that would just end in the assumption that he was going to die from it, so cringing, I broke out the water hose, did my best to scrape any remains of feces out of his precious mouth, and let him guzzle water.

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Thank you God for your sense of humor, precious boys who eat dirt and poop, but thank you most of all for letting them survive it! Also, if my little guy ever argues with me about trying a new food, I’m going to remind him that he was willing to try dog poop, so he sure as heck can try anything!

 

Three Point Five {on my baby being three and a half}

T I M E   F L I E S

Last night, he walked out of the garage to follow his daddy and “help” mow. I reminded him about staying off the street because of “fast cars,” and he immediately replied “I’ll be fine” with a thumbs up. I laughed on the outside, but mostly in an effort to avoid crying.

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Everyday he says something clever, new, and I am amazed at what a spectacular young man God has given us. I worry (waaaaaaaaaay too much) that the influences of the outside world, other people, and media will harm him, but I MUST remember that our Heavenly Father loves him infinitely more than I can even begin to imagine.

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He admires his Daddy, me, and by the Grace of God, we’ll do our best to show him Christ’s love and help him learn that his greatest calling is to glorify God, love Him and love others.

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Having him look at me with his 3 and half year old wisdom and say “I’ll be fine,” was a heavenly reminder that God is in control and the plans He has for my little man are greater than any I can think of.

DSC_6775He is a fierce lover (and sometimes fighter), passionate, assertive, creative, intuitive, and just plain fun! I can’t wait to see what the rest of “three” is like!

I.T.S. {Irrational Toddler Syndrome}

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.

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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.)

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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

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…

Kids Were Here, Vol. 1

Kids Were Here, Vol. 1

I’m starting something new for 2014–a blog circle with a lovely group of fellow ClickinMoms! Each month we are posting images that show a small glimpse of life with kids and the various things they leave in their {sometimes messy} … Continue reading

It’s the most (crazy) wonderful time of the year…

Cannon’s birthday–check

Thanksgiving–tomorrow

Ginormous get-together with the husband’s fam–Friday

Games, decking the halls, food with my fam–Black Friday Night

Hudson’s birthday–oh, yeah? Kinda need to get on that! I at least thought ahead to design some invites. Too bad, I have to pay a whopping amount for shipping just to get them here in a WEEK. So much for inviting people 2 weeks ahead of time. At least they turned out cute:

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