Lessons from Vacation

Everything changes when you have a child, certainly when you have three of them. One thing that has changed drastically in my life is vacation. Our recent family vacation to the beach was full of...well, everything but relaxation.

I used to love reading a book while wiggling my toes in and out of the hot, soft sand. This year I knew there was no point in even packing a book in the beach bag, and well, I gave up on sleep three years ago.

Now, of course, as with everything, it's all about the kids. My new favorite beach activity is simply watching my children enjoy the water, sand and shells. Gretchen immediately took to the ocean. She would chase the white crest of the waves as they came in and as they went back out. She jumped the waves and even sat down and let the waves crash on her tiny torso. Griffin, however, was not as eager to enjoy the water. He was content to play makeshift basketball with his beach bucket and bocci balls.

Although he is mighty brave in the pool and began jumping off the diving board before his third birthday, it took him three days to work up enough courage to touch the ocean. Each day he would get closer and closer to the water. Each family member tried a different method to lure him into the water, but he didn't fall for any of our tricks. Wednesday morning Gretchen and I were sitting in the wet sand digging for shells and allowing the waves to crash on our feet. I noticed Griffin inching himself closer and closer but I didn't say anything because I didn't want to frighten him. After intensely studying what we were doing, he suddenly sprinted into the water. It was as if something just clicked. He began running in and out of the water. Jumping. Splashing. Just playing. His face was priceless and showed one emotion...pure joy.

Watching the two of them playing in the water brought me immense pleasure...mainly because it made all the work entailed in vacationing worth it; however, seeing Griffin overcome his fear actually caused me grief too. See, at first the ocean in all of its magnitude frightened him. He was aware of its power and it intimidated him. But once he became comfortable with it, his fear was gone. His lack of fear lead to a sense of freedom. Freedom to enjoy the refreshing coolness of the water and the recreation it had to offer.

Watching him, I began to think of our view of God. At first we fear Him. All we see is a powerful force, and we're afraid to get close enough to see what He has to offer. Then we begin to see how others are blessed as they draw close to Him. Eventually, we want what they have and we finally go running into His arms. We accept his embrace of forgiveness, love, and grace. We dance around in our freedom. Then we get comfortable. We forget the magnitude of what He did for us.

Enjoy God. Allow yourself to get lost in His love for you. But continue to respect the enormity of that love.

Summer thunderstorms

Summer thunderstorms come out of nowhere. One minute the sky can be perfectly clear, bright and sunny. Then the next minute, without any kind of notice, the clouds will roll in covering the area with darkness and booming thunder. I love it. I love the mystery, the intensity, the power behind every lightning strike. It just amazes me how something with so much energy could just come out of nowhere.

The other day we were on the way home from the pool and one of those summer thunderstorms started rolling in. We told the kids that we needed to give them a quick bath before the storm came. That's all Griffin needed to hear to launch into one of his Griffinisms. (Yes, that's my new word to describe my son's awkward reactions to things.) He started crying and asking us not to let it storm. He obviously doesn't share my sentiments. We had to explain to him that mommy and daddy couldn't control the storm.

I started thinking...maybe it would be nice if we could control the storms, if we could determine exactly when each storm would come and how long it would last and where exactly it would hit. Although it's a nice thought, in reality it would be a mess. I would want to plan the storm to hit during nap time so it wouldn't ruin the kids' pool time, but the mom down the road would want to the storm to come after her kids had their picnic lunch. The coach would want the storm to hold off until after the game. We would be in constant conflict with each other, and the earth would never receive the nourishment and refreshment it so desperately needs during the hot months of summer.

While it's hard for us to think of storms as refreshing and nourishing, that's exactly what their purpose is. If God never made us go through anything difficult, we would never grow. Instead complacency would set in and dryness would slowly wilt our spirits, and we wouldn't even notice it until it was too late. Although it's frustrating when things are going well and then life gets interrupted by an unexpected, powerful storm, those are the very things that keep pushing us closer and closer to where we need to be. They cause us to seek Him, His answers and His guidance. In turn He provides exactly what we need exactly when we need it.

When you're soaking wet from the pounding rain, it's hard to see all the good you're receiving. You just have to wait until the storm has passed. Then you can look back and appreciate the blessings it delivered.

Really?

If you ever want to frustrate me, please do any or all of the following:

1. Park right beside me as I'm trying to load/unload my car.

Whenever I park, I purposely look for spots away from other cars because I know I need a lot of room. Not only do I need to fit a massive infant carseat through the door, but then I have to literally climb into the car in order to buckle the twins in their seats in the third row. Then sometimes I have to fold up the stroller and stash it in the back.

The other night at Zaxby's some lady watched the five of us...Javin holding Griff and Gretchen's hands and me toting Grayson in his carseat...walk to our car. Then as we were trying to load up, she parked right beside us. There were at least five other open parking spots, and still she chose to park right beside us. Really? Hope you enjoyed the view of my very large rear end poking through the door I tried to close as much as possible so YOU could get out of your car.

2. Crowd around me as I try to calm a crying baby.
So Grayson is an amazing baby. He is happy, playful, talkative, and just super sweet. However, when he gets upset, he really gets upset. He doesn't just cry, he screams. When he gets upset like that, it also bothers me...not because I'm angry with him but angry with myself for allowing him to get that hungry or that sleepy. When those moments  come, I just need a minute to either make a bottle or put him to sleep. I do NOT need onlookers huddling around me asking what's wrong. Really? He's upset and you're not helping.

3. Tell me my baby needs a bottle whenever he starts crying.
Now granted, I just admitted that Grayson does get ill when he needs a bottle. However, that is not the only reason he cries. It doesn't matter what we're doing or where we are when he starts crying, someone always says, "I think that baby needs a bottle." Really? And we blame our growing problem with obesity on the lack of activity? Uhm...maybe it's because parents are too eager to stuff a bottle in a baby's mouth instead of figuring out why the baby is really crying. Parents begin soothing their infants with milk and continue to use food to calm them as toddlers. See the pattern? It's not healthy. Sometimes babies need to burb or their tummies are just gassy. Sometimes they have dirty diapers and a lot of times they are just sleepy or over stimulated. They do not need a bottle every time they cry, but if it makes you feel better, like you are somehow helping, then my all means say it. Just don't be surprised when I roll my eyes.

4. Tell me anything about how to raise kids when you don't have any. 
Yes, some non-parents can know a lot about children. There are teachers, daycare workers, etc who spend excessive hours with children, but working that job 40 hours a week doesn't make you a parent. It teaches you a lot about parenting and dealing with kids, but it's different when you have children of your own. Now, I do need advice. I love when other parents give me tips, but when a non-parent says something like, "You should never blah blah blah," I just want to scream. I'm not dumb. I am definitely not a perfect mom, but I sure as heck am doing the best I can. So back off...

Sorry this blog is so negative, I just needed to vent. Here's a positive thought to end on:
Kids make life more full. My car isn't the only thing that is overcrowded. My heart is truly full.  If you already have children of your own, try to overlook the little frustrations and concentrate on all the good things...the hugs, the kisses, the random remarks. Tonight as I was putting Griff in his carseat, he said, "Mommy, you are my best friend." Wow...any stress I had in that moment completely disappeared. In the end I know people will continue to say and do things that will frustrate me, but I can choose how I react. While I will probably still get frustrated, I refuse to let it steal away my joy.

Mirror, Mirror

Confession: I love all of my children. I love everything about my children. I, however, do not like everything thing about them all of the time. Over the past few months I have realized that the things I dislike about them most are the very traits they have inherited from me. Ironic, huh?

God is funny like that. He is showing me things I need to change about myself by forcing me to come face-to-face with mini-jennies….Stubborn, independent, control freaks.

Telling my kids not to do something is essentially challenging them to do it. I’m pretty sure all kids are like that, but as an adult, I probably should have grown out of it.  I had always thought of my stubbornness as determination, which is a great trait. Now that my kids are showing the same characteristic, it’s not nearly as charming as I had tried to make it. Looking in from the other side, I can now see stubbornness for what it truly is – a form of pride.

Perhaps my pride is what causes me to be overly independent, another thing I didn’t realize could be negative until I saw it in my children.

The twins are learning how to do more and more for themselves. Although I rejoice outwardly with them as they learn new skills, I also mourn internally because it means one less thing I can control. The other weekend when my husband was out of town, I was forced to let them be more independent. When Griffin picked out his pajamas, he chose mismatched ones. Oh, I cringed and gritted my teeth as I helped him get into his loose-fitting navy blue Toy Story shirt and slim-fitting baby blue and red baseball pants. He was so proud of himself for retrieving his own PJs out of his drawer, so there was no way I was going to take that from him even if it did drive me crazy. 

They both take pride in not only selecting their clothes but also in trying to dress themselves. While they excel at putting on their pants, they haven’t quite mastered the ability to take off or put on a shirt. When they try, they usually stretch the shirt. If they allow me to help them though, the shirt is left unharmed. It’s hard for them to admit they need help because they are developing their sense of independence, but when they do ask for help, the dressing process goes much more quickly and smoothly...and it's less painful for them. 

My life would be much easier if I would accept help when it’s offered, but I am so prideful that I don’t like admitting I need it. Raising children is helping me see that God didn’t create us to be completely independent. Relying on other people doesn’t make us weaker; it makes us stronger. It makes us more capable of doing greater things. Independence, a trait we teach and treasure in our culture, can actually inhibit our growth and potential. Isn’t it funny that the children I am supposed to be training and teaching are the very ones who are teaching me? 

Stains

Valentine’s Day marks our third anniversary in our house. Since we moved into our house when it was brand new, it is technically still young, but if you were to visit, you’d probably think it’s much older than it is. Why? Children. Babies and their reflux issues.  Kids and their sippee cups that aren’t supposed to leak. Toddlers and their underdeveloped motor skills. Kids and their….well, you get the picture. I have been bugging my extremely frugal husband for the past few months about getting our carpets steamed cleaned. It doesn’t matter how many times I vacuum the carpet or scrub the stains with what is supposed to be miracle stain remover, the carpet still looks gross. For a neat freak like me, that’s just not acceptable.

The other night as I was trying to convince my husband to fork out the money for the steam cleaning, I started pointing out all the stains. As I pointed out each stain, I would tell the story behind its origin. The spot near the window is where one-year-old Gretchen threw up one afternoon and just kept playing. The spot near the hallway is where eighteen-month-old Griffin knocked over a cup of his dad’s coffee. All the little spots in front of the couch are where they spit up after almost every bottle for their first year.

Telling these stories made each of those moments rush back into my memory. Although at the time none of those moments seemed very pleasant, they are now a part of our family’s history. Each moment a treasured memory that stirs up some emotion – pride that Gretchen is a tough little cookie who will never let little things like sickness come between her and whatever she finds important at the time – frustration that Javin would leave a hot cup of coffee in a toddler’s reach but relief and gratitude that Griffin didn’t get hurt – pity that my babies could barely keep down their milk.

While I am still ashamed for visitors to see these gross spots on my carpet, I know they are simply a part of my family….a part of what makes us who we are and a reminder of how far we have come.

Each of us has spots in our individual lives that we would like to keep others from seeing. However, it’s the lessons we learn from the process of getting those stains that helps us realize who we want to become or what we want to avoid becoming. If we pretend those spots aren’t there, we may succeed at making ourselves more presentable, but we may also risk forgetting what we learned in the first place. I’m not saying we should expose our vulnerabilities to the whole world, but if we are able to let those closest to us know about our nasty stains, they can offer the support and encouragement we need to keep us from making even more messes.

Am I a bad mom because....?

Am I a bad mom because I make my son sit on the potty when he needs to pee? I mean he has the rest of his life to stand and pee, so will it really hurt him if he just sits for a year or two? I have tried to let him stand and pee, and it always turns out disastrously. And he pees often. No matter how many times we tell him to aim at the water, he likes to see what else he can hit. He's peed on the seat, the lid, the floor, the wall and last night, he even hit the shower curtain. Then if he does get it in the water like he's supposed to, when he's done, he still dribbles on the seat. I love him, and I know he's only two, so I can't get angry. It's just frustrating having to clean up so much pee.

Going back to my original question...no. I don't think I'm a bad mom because I want my son to sit on the potty until he can control his pee stream. Some people may think it's selfish or slack. Whatever they think...I don't care. Over the past two years I have been amazed at how competitive moms are. We want our children to hit all the milestones early so we can proudly announce to family and friends how advanced our little ones are. I am guilty too.

When we took Grayson to the doctor today, the doctor commented on how alert he was for a four-day-old infant. As soon as he said it, I was like "yes." My baby is going to be a super awesome genius baby. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I wanted to slap myself. My son isn't even a week old yet, and I am already wanting him to be a genius. Seriously, what is my problem? I don't want to be one of those moms. I don't have time to be one of those moms.

Yes, I want my kids to be successful - smart, athletic, outgoing, loving, compassionate, etc - however, I am not willing to pit myself against other moms in some ridiculous competition. I want to be a good mom, and for now in order for me to be a good mom, I need to be sane. If that means making my son sit on the potty, then what's the big deal? Grandparents may not like it, other moms may make comments about it behind my back...so be it. The less time I have to spend cleaning up pee, the more time I have to play with my kids and pour my love and energy into them.

Lessons from a Newborn

Our third child under the age of three is here! Grayson was born Monday afternoon, and I have spent the past three days falling in love with our newest angel. During the pregnancy I was worried I wouldn't be able to love the new baby as much as I loved the twins. I thought my heart's capacity to love was at its maximum, but I was totally wrong.

Not only have I fallen in love with a new child, but I have fallen even more in love with my husband who has been by my side all week. I will never forget his face when he proudly announced to me that we had another boy. When he lit up, I knew he was not worried about the financial expenses or the inconveniences of raising a third child. He was just in love with his new son.

Finally, seeing my older children react to the new baby has made me love them even more. Their immediate acceptance of their little brother has shown me how loving they are. Although I realize the transition may not be as smooth once they experience the change at home, I am just thankful that they seem willing to accept the change.

Isn't it funny how God knows us better than we know ourselves? He has once again fulfilled the desires of my heart before I even realized the desire was there. He gave me the third child I always said I wanted (before I had the first two). Through this new gift, He has already brought our family closer together. All of my fears about our family changing have been replaced by the excitement about all the memories we are going to make. Instead of interrupting our family of four, Grayson has completed our family of five.
Through Grayson, God has shown me that there is no limit to our ability to love. It's a simple concept but a powerful revelation for me.

On my last post, I wrote that I could understand what would make a woman consider having an abortion, but every time I look into Grayson's eyes, feel his hands grasp my finger, or feel his heart beating under my palm, I am reminded why abortion is so wrong. He, like every other child, is a human being - a life not only created, but handcrafted by God to make an impact in this world. And I'm the one God trusted to bring him into this world. Wow....