Duh

Speaking of mommy brain, I came home from CVS (most wondrous of stores), my arms loaded with bags, and I pulled out my keys to open the front door.

I hit the unlock button on my key fob. The door doesn't open. I hit it AGAIN, because my door isn't opening before I realize what I am doing. My mini-van key fob does not and never will open the front door to my house.

Psalm 31:24

Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart,
all ye that hope in the LORD.

hope=courage=strength of Jehovah

I love that.

Three Thanks Thursday

Today I am thankful for:

1. My slippers (that I bought at JC Penney last spring for less than a dollar with my $10 off a $10 purchase - love that coupon!) because my floors are so cold in the morning.
2. The price of gas going down, down, down!
3. The Phillies winning the World Series. My husband would have been bummed if they lost, and nobody wants a bummed husband. And the fact that I got to experience a Philadelphia team win a championship was pretty amazing. Woo-hoo!

Abigail Adams

This week is a week of long work hours for my husband. It is not his desire to be at work all day, but sometimes it is just the nature of his business. When I lived closer to my parents, I would often stop over their house to fill the long evenings. Now that I am 25 minutes away and gas is a bit more pricey, I can't. So I am home with the kids.

I am a perfectly mediocre housekeeper, and these long hours provide me the time I need to catch up on the unfolded laundry and dirty dishes. I have become quite accustomed to having more time to do the tasks on my list. But on nights when I start pouting and complaining about my long day with the kids, I try to think about Abigail Adams.

Those wives of the revolution would be home for months or even years without their husbands. And they were home, without a car, or a cell phone, or the Internet. Just alone. They did what they needed to do.

I know that motherhood is hard work, but sometimes I just need to get tough and do what I need to do. God is constantly teaching me to be content "in whatsoever state I am in". I can't sit around all day thinking how my life would be easier if I had this, or if that was different. I need to shut my mind up and do my job.

In the middle of a long week this is the truth: I have a loving husband. I have two healthy, happy children. My home is comfortable. I do not live in a war ravaged country with concerns for my family's safety. I have a wonderful church and the means to get there every week. My pantry and fridge are full of food. This is a charmed life.

I am not fighting off small pox while my husband is states or oceans away. I am not waiting months to receive a letter to hear from my husband - I can text or call Adam whenever I miss him throughout the day. I don't live in fear of enemy soldiers marching down my street.

And I live with this eternal truth, as well:

Cast thy burden upon the LORD, and he shall sustain thee...
Psalm 55:22

So I'm thinking, if Abigail Adams can do it, then so can I.

Instead

My plan for this morning was to start reviewing the months of the year with Joey, using a calendar and some poetry books from the library.

Instead, I spent my time using the wet/dry vac to get shampoo out of my master bedroom carpet.

Thank you Katie for the unexpected carpet deodorizer.

The air mattress

We are a strange little family with lots of little quirks. One of those is our love of the air mattress. I say our, which includes me, but mostly it would be my husband and kids. It started back in our old house when one new year's eve Adam blew up the air mattress in the living room, and together we watched DVDs way into the morning. Since then, blowing up the air mattress is associated with having a good time.

A couple weekends ago we rented Disney's Swiss Family Robinson for Family Movie Night, so of course, we blew up the air mattress. (And Joey really enjoyed the movie. He was cracking up at the pirate fight at the end.) Yesterday, game 4 of the World Series, Adam all excited to watch the Phillies, so we blew up the air mattress. I had a migraine, so it was also a sickbed in the living room. Not the most relaxing sickbed since Katie just jumped all over me, but still a sickbed.

I have to admit that I often resist when it is suggested we blow the thing up. It is not a night of fun I am against, but the fact that it will linger in the living room for a good three days before it is put away; and a queen size, navy blue air mattress doesn't quite fit into my decorating scheme. So I balk a bit, but never protest, because I know we will have a fun time all hanging out and snuggling together. If company comes over unexpectedly, you just act like it is perfectly normal to have an air mattress sitting in the middle of your living room.

Like one time, when Adam's good friend came over for the first time with his soon-to-be fiance, and there was the air mattress, in all its glory, taking up the entire area of the living room. Soon-to-be fiance must have thought we were a little weird, but was completely gracious and sweet. And yesterday, the cable guy came to hook up our new Internet service. He may have wondered why the air mattress was there, but I don't even offer explanations to complete strangers. He'll just always wonder why.

So tonight is the night that our Phillies will hopefully win it all. This could be it, the chance to actually see a Philadelphia team win a championship in our lifetime! And Adam and I will be watching from his favorite spot: air mattress, bunch of pillows, cozy blanket, on the living room floor.

Go Phillies!!!

Cleaning Schedule?

I have set up a cleaning schedule for myself. This is the second week I have not completed the cleaning schedule.
So I should make changes, right? Changes to me or the schedule?
(There is no way it could have anything to do with starting this blog or my occasional stop on facebook. None at all.)

Adventures of the Giant Baby

Sacrifice

My pastor preached on Wednesday about the many feasts and sacrifices of the children of Isreal. I came to church really tired, and when he first starting expounding on the feasts, I was wondering if my brain was going to hold out. It did, and when he got to the application, wow, was it good:

1) All sacrifice should point to Christ
2) Christ pleases the Father
3) Make much of Christ

My sacrifice should point to Christ. My motive must be to please Christ, not myself, or my sacrifice does not please the Father. And if I am making much of Christ, He will be the center of my worship, my attention, my thoughts, my life. Everything.

It is really easy for me to feel like my life is very simple and not all that exciting to God. I feel like my "sacrifice" of my time with the children, or work around the house, or serving my husband is pretty pointless somedays. But if I perform all those tasks "as unto the LORD", I am pleasing the Father, no matter how boring it looks to me.

It is hard to remember that. It is so much easier to see one more task completed with no thanks. It is easy to feel frustrated because I am doing the exact same thing today that I did yesterday. It is easy for me to feel sorry for myself because I can have a really successful day and nobody notices.

When I feel that way it is because I am sacrificing for me. I want to be the good mom, the good home maker, and the good wife. I really want to be good at what I do. But instead of working hard so that at the end of the day I am pleased with my job well done, I need to just bring my motherhood, my homemaking, and my marriage as an offering to Christ. The fact that He is glorified is my reward. I get to please the Creator of the universe because I change diapers, sweep floors, and give hugs and kisses. That is amazing and wonderful and I can't understand why He would even give me the chance.

Three Thanks Thursday

My husband's day off is Thursday, so this is our family day instead of the usual Saturday. Since I don't want to use family time to blog, I will try to post three things for which I am thankful on that day.

Today I am thankful for:

1. Syrup - it is one of the greatest liquid substances I know, and I enjoyed poured all over the Belgian waffles my husband makes most every Thursday.

2. The way Kate licks syrup off her plate like it's a side dish. I love that she is quirky.

3. My hard-working husband who is heart-broken when he has to be at work on his day off.

My bit of advice

When I see new moms the first thing I share is how it goes so fast. Babies are big before you know it. My great suggestion for remembering these baby-days is to write down little milestones or happenings on your calendar. Your calendar is always out in the same location, so you don't have to find it like a baby book. The date is already there, so all you have to do is write in what word they spoke today, or where you went for the first time, or how many times you were up in the middle of the night. I have done this for my two and I really like it. You can then later transfer that info to a baby book (if you are that kind of person), or just have one box to save all your calendars. I figure that one document box should be big enough to handle twenty or so years of calendars, and I can deal with that.

I think after I share that, my new bit of wisdom should be, never hesitate to call Poison Control Center. Really, not for a second. The people there are very nice, calm and helpful, and they don't judge you. And after your child has just injested something you believe to be poisonous, it is a relief to get the help without the judgment.

How do I know that the Poison Control Center people are nice? Because I have had to call them four times. Yes, four. The culprits would be a one-year-old boy and a bottle of mucinex, a two-year-old boy and a now forgotten substance, a two and a half year old boy and weed killer, and this past weekend my sweet girl was the poison eater.


She and big brother were playing out in the sandbox at the edge of the yard. I looked out and couldn't see Kate, so I asked Joe where she was. "She is right here, Mom, eating cherries." And that is when I went running, because we don't have cherries. She was right behind the sandbox, hands and dress stained bright pink, and a yucky look on her face. A plant had grown right off the edge of our property, dripping its blueberry imposters to lure her in. I ran her inside, cleaned her up, and got on the Internet to identify the berries (which I discovered to be a pokeweed plant) so I could call my good friends at Poison Control.

A lovely woman answered and informed me the berries don't taste good, she probably didn't eat many, if any, and the only way they can be harmful is if you boil them down and injest the concentrate. Thankfully, Kate lacks those cooking skills, so I figured she would be fine. The Poison Control woman then asked for my first name, Kate's first name, and my zip code, and told me to call back if I had any more questions. That was all - no warnings to be more careful next time, or scoldings for not keeping a closer watch on my toddler.

So, moms, don't hesitate to call.

You know it's been a bad week...

...when your husband asks how your day was, and you respond,
"Well, I didn't break anything today."

Well, here we go...

I am here on my blog posting about starting my blog. Blogging brilliance.

I know there are already fourteen million blogs out there, and the world doesn't need to hear what one more SAHM has to say. So why am I doing this?

I am not hoping to be profound, or funny, or insightful, but rather truthful. I want to share with you the very real ups and downs of my life. When you read here, my hope is that you will finish with a sigh of relief that there is someone out there just like you (but probably worse). Or someone who has made the same mistakes you have made, or fought the same battles, or felt the same feelings.

I can imagine I am a great writer that will astound you with my talent. The reality is I will just be writing about the everyday "stuff" I live through with all my human weaknesses. But the best thing about sharing how absolutely weak I am, is that I can share how He is made strong.

And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
II Corinthians 12:9