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What is Perfect

Recently, I found this great “cooking” project idea in a magazine.

Looks delicious and not too hard. I purchased the supplies, well…most of the supplies, cleaned off the counter, and got everything ready to make these beautiful halloween snacks.

Well…about halfway through melting the chocolate the baby decided to wake up, so I finished melting the chocolate and set everything out on the counter while I got the baby.

I was gone for less than 2 minutes and when I returned the girls had chairs pulled up and were ready to get to work. I held the baby and “supervised” the work. Supervised being defined as, pouring sprinkles, instructing the girls to share the sprinkles, showing them how to keep the marshmallows on the sticks, instructing the girls to share the chocolate, pouring more sprinkles, requesting that the girls please try to keep the sprinkles on the counter or on the marshmallows, pouring more sprinkles…

And…this is the result of my terrific halloween project!

I call the first picture “melted ghost”. The marshmallow with the green sprinkles is the Frankenstein, the orange ones are pumpkins, and I guess the purple one is a bat.

My husband got home shortly after we completed our project and commented that he had been hoping that I was going to make the marshmallows…well, I had intended to make at least a couple of them…

But, it wasn’t a big deal, the girls had fun, my oldest noticed that hers didn’t look quite like the picture but it was close enough.

There are those days that all I really want is perfection. I want my house to be clean, I want the kids to always obey, I want the kids to be clean, I want to be able to find my makeup (I’d even settle for finding a hair rubberband without having to dig through one of the kid’s drawers), I want to drink my cup of coffee while it’s hot, I’d like to sit down to drink my coffee, I want to work on my projects, I want to watch my shows instead of “Leap Frog” for the thousandth time, and on and on my list goes…

I get a few days like this every now and then. Like the day my husband watched all the kids so I could do something I really wanted to do for a few hours.

But most days look like the “melted ghost”, all the right ingredients are there they’ve just been touched by little fingers.

They’ve also been loved by little fingers, enjoyed by little fingers, and we’ve created memories for the little children with the little fingers.

I could have spent a long time working on these marshmallows and shooing the kids out of the kitchen so I could get my marshmallows just right. But in the end, they would be MY marshmallows. I would take pictures, post them on instigram and show everyone my success and then they would just sit on my counter uneaten just like these marshmallows did (because come to find out, no one in my house actually likes giant marshmallows dipped in chocolate).

Instead we had a huge mess, a child who was so proud of the eyes on her ghost, and girls who giggled for an hour making these marshmallows that no one ate. But no one cared that no one ate them…it was how we made them that was important.

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My Child’s Heart

Sometimes I think that as a parent I seek out too much information on child rearing.  And so much of it is conflicting that it’s easy for me to get wrapped up in whether I’m parenting right or wrong.

First there’s the argument over whether you should let your infant cry or pick up your infant instantly. Do I nurse or bottle feed? Do I feed my infant on demand or on a schedule? How do I stop toddler temper tantrums? Is spanking my child appropriate? How about time outs, do they give my child too much time to pout? How much TV should I let my children watch? Is it ok to give them candy? How soon can I give them peanut butter? Shouldn’t my child be reading at 3? Do I tell my child “no” enough? Do I tell her “yes” enough? Am I spending enough time with them? Should I be playing instead of cleaning the kitchen? Should I be cleaning my house instead of playing? Am I too indulgent? Am I too strict?

There are hundreds of parenting books, blogs, and articles. I can also get opinions and advice from friends, family, and complete strangers. And people often disagree.

It’s so easy for me to focus on am I parenting “right”. Do my children have the right environment for learning? Do I have clear rules? Do I allow them the freedom to be creative? Am I feeding them healthy food? Am I teaching them to be polite? Do they obey me in public – yes, in public, I’m not embarrassed if they don’t obey me in private. Do we spend enough family time together?

I focus on all of this and forget to focus on what’s really important. My child’s heart. I’m focusing on what I can see and often ignoring what I can feel. Why is my child not obeying? Am I guiding her to a strong relationship with God? Am I honest when I fail? Am I teaching good behavior because it’s good or because it’s socially expected?

I’m not saying the physical things aren’t important. I take my kids to meetings and expect them to sit quietly for an hour. I don’t allow temper tantrums. My oldest takes music and dance lessons. We go to the park often. The kids help me in the kitchen. Two of my kids know their alphabet, and one is almost reading. We eat peanut butter and candy. I often play with the kids instead of clean up the house.

It’s just so easy for me to focus on these. I want to see my kids achieve. I want to see them excel. And I want to see them behave. But really, what good does this all do me if I raise a child who is well behaved, well educated, successful, and self centered.

If I teach my child that life is all about success, looking good, and getting what you want, what have I really accomplished?

I really want to teach my children to seek the Lord, serve God, glorify God, and serve others. And this, I’m discovering, is immeasurably more difficult than just teaching my children to be good.

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Full Hands

“you sure have your hands full”

At the grocery store yesterday we started with the baby in his carrier on the front of the cart. The girls were in the BLUE car on the front of the cart (it had to be blue, I’m just happy they both agree on the color). We head into the produce section, the girls are happily “steering” and the baby is cooing to his toys.

30 minutes later, we’re finishing up with our last couple of things from the frozen section, I’m carrying the baby so he doesn’t cry, steering the car cart with one hand (which is almost impossible, because of the car I can’t grab the front of the cart and just pull it behind me like I would do with a regular cart), explaining to the girls that I can’t steer the cart if they’re both hanging on the outside of it, and some dear sweet lady has the audacity to say “you sure have your hands full”.

Why yes, I DO have my hands full, a baby in one, a cart in the other, and two kids hanging on. Were you referring to the fact that it is physically impossible to hold anything else in my hands? Were you commenting on the fact that I have 3 kids, and you think that ‘s a lot? Do you think it’s not appropriate for my children to be hanging on the outside of the cart (they could be running around the store instead)? Could you think of nothing else to say?

Or the guy that commented “you have your hands full” as I’m trying to walk through the Wal-Mart parking lot with 3 kids. He also felt the need to strike up a conversation about their ages and such as I’m trying to direct them around traffic. Um, yes, I have my hands full, why are we still talking?

It seems like I can’t go anywhere these days without hearing that statement at least once. I just smile and say “yes I do” 🙂 Because, I indeed do have my hand full, literally, I can’t hold anything else. Not that I mind, it just seems like a statement of the obvious to tell me.

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The Pursuit of Perfection

Saw this on a friends facebook feed the other day.

“A real woman always keeps her house clean and organized. She’s always well-dressed and hair done. She behaves gracefully in all situations and circumstances. And no matter what, she never swears. She has more than enough patience to take care of her family, always has a smile on her lips, and a kind word for everyone.”

Initial reaction, “yep, something to aspire to”… 2 seconds later “who has time to keep a house always clean?”… 4 seconds later “this is totally unrealistic”… 6 seconds later “they forgot cook gourmet dinners, keep the kids clean and well dressed and polite, …”

So, what is it that makes me think I can do it all? I somehow expect that I should be able to keep my house perfectly clean, look great every day, always know how to react/respond in every situation, run a small business, and chase 3 little kids all day. And, when I reach the end of my day, I’m frustrated because I didn’t finish the laundry, there’s a few dirty cups on the counter, and why oh why can I not get my shower before 10 pm!

Pride, probably, I think I can do it all on my own. Unrealistic expectations, definitely, there’s not enough hours in a day for this!

First of all, I’m not saying that I shouldn’t try to clean the house, look good, or maintain a good attitude. But to expect all of this every day is just not realistic. I have to leave time for the kid’s art messes (yes, folks, painting all the baby dolls faces with poster paints is a mess! To their credit, they did later get out the hose and give their baby’s baths, thus, eliminating the need for me to do any cleaning)…, time to spend with the kids, time to teach them to enjoy cooking (I love cooking, so we spend a lot of time in the kitchen doing creative things with food, sometimes successful, sometimes not.), and many other memory making opportunities.

The truth is, if I get the laundry done, I don’t have time for the kitchen; if I make a big dinner, I don’t have time to clean bathrooms; if the baby’s cranky, I don’t have time to take a shower; if we do an art project, my house looks like a tornado of glue, glitter, and paint swept through; if the kids help in the kitchen, it was an icing and chocolate tornado this time; if I’m making memories, we’re making a mess.

So, what’s more important, my perfectly clean house, well kept appearance, perfect kids, and a pretend great attitude, (I still think if i try really hard I can get this) or happy kids, sticky projects, honesty, and the classic jeans & t-shirt  with a ponytail look (it is a classic look, very fashionable,…).

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A Mother’s Heart

Luke 2:19 “But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.”

Luke 2:51b “…And his mother treasured up all these things in her heart.”

As a mother, I find these verses to be very precious. The first verse comes right after the shepherds visited Jesus and the second verse is right after Mary and Joseph lost Jesus and found him in the temple after searching for him for days.

There are just things your children do, things people say, things that happen, and things I feels as a mother that I just “store” in my heart. I know I’ll use them later, or at least remember them later. They affect how I interact with each child and it’s not always something I can explain, It’s just something I know. Some of this stuff gets written down in their baby books, if I can figure out how to put it into words. I want them to know it when they’re older.

Each child has their own unique birth story and their own unique life and I constantly look forward to the next special thing to add to who they are as I see them.

As I read these verses I’m always reminded of how my children were born, how I felt at that moment, and what affect it has on me and how I relate to them.

My mother’s first child was a stillborn so my entire first pregnancy I was pretty worried. I tried hard not to worry because there’s really nothing that worrying can do for me but still, I worried. So, when I went into labor and had the report from my midwife that she had a good heartbeat, I was relieved. Somehow, I held it together when my water broke and it was green (my mom’s was green with her first), but we still had a heartbeat so I knew it was ok. I can’t even describe the relief and joy of holding my first child, hearing her cry, and just knowing that she was healthy. To this day, she’s still extra special to me, and I’m just so grateful that God gave her to me.

My second child was just very unhappy to be born. I don’t know if she disliked the birth process or was just hungry after my whole 2 hour labor but I just remember her crying and crying the minute she took her first breath. I held her close to me and she cried, and cried, and cried some more. I was almost in tears. Finally I fed her and she was happy. To this day, I just can’t take it when she cries. My husband teases me about it, but there’s just something inside of me that melts when she cries, just like the day she was born.

At about 30 weeks pregnant with my 3rd child I had this crazy dream about his birth. I never could remember the exact details of the dream, I just woke up and remembered 3 things, he was born early, he was perfectly healthy, and he was the most adorable baby ever. Which may explain why I was the calmest of the 3 adults present when he was born 5 minutes before the midwife arrived. He was completely healthy, and he’s the cutest baby I’ve ever seen. Maybe my feelings were stronger from the rush of delivering my own baby, but I’ll never forget how I felt just holding him for the first time and looking at him and thinking just how precious and adorable (and cute!) he was.

My children are all young, so I just store these things up, ponder them at times, and wait for the day when it all makes sense.

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Finding Balance

Wow! It’s been a long time since I posted! I guess I do have an excuse in the form of a tiny baby that keeps me really busy! Also, my oldest child started school this year. Where did the time go! I’m entering a whole new world of activities and learning. So much fun!

My last month has been completely crazy! I’ve helped a relative move and entered full steam into the business of a school year. Every week I look at my calendar and it’s just intimidating. I also have a couple of work projects going (yes, folks, I freelance from home with the kids – some days I think I must be crazy). In fact, I’m typing this blog post and multitasking over to a website I’m getting some images posted on. I’m really hoping I can finish both before the baby wakes up!

So, how do I find time for everything that I need to do? So far, I’ve determined that I need to hire a maid and a chauffeur and then I might have time for everything. Honestly, I’m at least considering a house cleaning service twice a month. I almost have my laundry done for the week – since it’s Friday I guess I should hurry up and finish it. But I’m way behind on the kitchen and bathrooms and as soon as I get caught up on those it’ll be time for laundry again.

Now, I can’t figure out how to upload images to the website I’m working on…

Oh, and I just heard the baby…

These days for me, finding balance means I take one day at a time, get done what I can, and spend as much time as possible with the kids. (and hope I don’t forget something important).

I guess the pictures will get uploaded later, and I’ll post again when I get a few minutes,  I need to go feed the baby.

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The Hiding of the Spider

Today I introduced my 5yr old to a family tradition that I started when I was her age.

Meet the family pet spider. I got this spider from the treasure box in my class when I was 5 or 6. I remember seeing it in there and just hoping the kids picking before me didn’t get it, I really wanted the spider. I’m sure some mother was only too happy to donate it to the class treasure box, hoping that her child didn’t bring it back home.

In case you can’t tell from the picture, it’s about the size of my hand, squeaks when squeezed, and has an elastic string that’s lost all it’s bounce.

I had great plans for this spider, when I got home I hid it under my dad’s pillow. And like any small child, I eagerly waited for my dad to get home, greeting him with a demand that he look under his pillow. After which ensued many years of hiding the spider.

I finally learned to not tell him where the spider was. And I found many fun hiding places, some favorites being under the fitted sheet on his bed (surprising mom instead of dad when I hid it on the wrong side of the bed), his chair at the table, and in his suitcase when he would go on a trip.

The rule was, whoever found the spider got to hide it next. It makes its rounds from one sibling or parent to the next. Showing up in dresser drawers, couches, and even in the shower.

It’s been over 20 years since I picked that spider from the treasure box and I had completely forgotten about it. I thought it was lost years ago. Until it turned up in my suitcase at my most recent visit to my parent’s house.

I got home ,unpacked, and placed it on my dresser, planning which family member will get it next. Tonight, my 5yr old saw it on my dresser and with the same excitement I remember feeling the first time I saw it, exclaimed, “what’s this!”. I was only too happy to show her how to hide it under her dad’s pillow, and as I expected, it didn’t take long for her to insist that he look under his pillow.

I think we’re going to have a fun couple of months hiding the spider around here until I decide where some unsuspecting parent or sibling will find the spider next. And who knows, maybe in a few years it will cycle back to me again.

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A night with the new addition

Life with 3 kids is definitely interesting. I do think I have the baby sleeping better now. Horray! He’s still up every 2-3 hours to eat but he pretty much slept from 8 to 6 last night just getting up to eat. It was so nice to not sit in the rocking chair with him all night!

However, he did leak through his diapers twice (I am really not liking Huggies diapers!) and my 2 yr old wet her bed (which never happens).

Oh, and the baby decided to roll over, I’m pretty sure he’s NOT supposed to be doing that yet! Which means, I can’t leave him anywhere unsupervised. I had seen him almost do it a couple of times so I’m not completely surprised, I do hope this doesn’t mean that he’ll be crawling early. The girls are going to have a tough time of it when he can get around and eat all their toys! I still haven’t figured out what’s going to happen to all the Polly Pockets…

When I started potty training my 2 1/2 year old a few months ago I did a lot of research on amazon and ended up ordering this Wet-Stop Twin Waterproof Mattress Cover for her bed. At the same time I ordered her a new Memory Foam Mattress. I like the mattress ok, but I’m not sure I want it for me when I get a new one – which I need to do one of these days soon since my mattress is almost 8 years old and not quite as comfortable anymore.

Since I had ordered the new mattress, I couldn’t have it getting wet so I had to order the mattress cover as well. She’s done really well. She had to have over a week of dry diapers before I would let her go without them at night since she wet her bed the first time she tried to sleep without a diaper.

It’s been a few weeks now of dry nights, and last night I think she wet her bed (she wasn’t entirely sure either). It smelled like she did, but apparently, the mattress cover I have is so absorbant that her sheets were barely wet. It definitely lived up to it’s high reviews! Thankfully, this means I just have to remove the sheets, mattress pad, and pillows (I don’t know how the pillow always gets wet) and wash and dry them. I probably needed to wash her sheets anyways. No drying out the mattress since it didn’t get wet! Which reminds me…I need to go switch the wash…

On another note, Huggies diapers don’t seem to work well for infant boys. I have a 3wk old and he leaked through his Huggies twice last night – and I’m changing him every 3 hours when he eats, so I was truly unhappy with the diapers last night. I haven’t had any trouble with the Pampers though, now I know why Pampers is my preferred brand. I am going to pick up some Kroger diapers today when I’m out shopping since this brand worked really well on my daughter and it’s half the price of the Pampers, I’m hoping they work just as well on the baby.

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Shopping with Girls

JoAnn fabrics was having a great sale on remnants, and I had a gift card, so me and the girls (4 and 2) went shopping the other day. The one thing about fabric shopping with 2 young girls is that they both feel that they must pick out their own fabrics.

My 4yr old picked out hers and then we started heading for the pattern area and the 2yr old objected, so…we had to go back and let her pick out her own fabrics too. At least now I have fabrics and patterns for their Easter dresses – or Easter outfits since the 4yr old picked out a shirt and skirt pattern.

Here’s the fabric my 4yr old picked out. The green is for the shirt and leggings and the yellow for the skirt which will have pink tulle under it as well.

And my 2yr old’s pick. She really had to have the pink and wouldn’t let us continue shopping without letting her pick her fabric!

Plus we have all sorts of extra fabrics from the remnant pile and a few extras we picked up while we were there. I’m going to be busy!

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Musings

I think as a mother sometimes it’s hard to identify who I am. Maybe for those of you who have always dreamed of motherhood this hasn’t been so hard. But, growing up, I never dreamed of being a mom. I never wanted children. And here I am, under 30, happily married, and with two very sweet children.

I tend to be more pessimistic that optimistic at times. And maybe this is a good thing for my marriage and children.

I remember getting engaged and thinking “great, now I have to plan a wedding…”. I knew my dress would be white, because that’s the color that brides wear. But I had never cared about a wedding – I had never planned to get married. Thankfully, my mother was more than happy to do my wedding planning. I picked out my dress, flowers, cake, and bridesmaids. Suggested some food items, and my mom took care of the rest.

For me the wedding was about marriage, the wedding was a required formality. Tradition, is a better word for it. A good tradition, and not something to be skipped. But the wedding wasn’t the end goal. And, because I hadn’t dreamed of marriage all my life, I focused on the essentials – life after marriage.

Also, because I had never planned to marry, before marriage, I had never really considered what marriage would be like. I just figured it would be terrible (Love does strange things, that’s my only explanation for getting married).

So, before my husband-to-be comes along, I’m an individual. I have goals. I’m going to college. I’ll do what’s best for me. I never planned to get married. This also meant I never dated. Why date if I’m not looking to marry? I never dated anyone but my current husband, that is. And it took him years to convince me to even talk to him. I’m glad he stuck with it, and I’m glad we were both adults before we started dating. And I’m glad we married.

Dating
He’d been living on his own for several years, I’d been on my own for a couple of years and was at the time, living at home. But working 30hrs a week and going to college. So, we knew what we believed, we could both make decisions on our own, and most importantly, I knew that he was who I saw him to be. In fact, our first real phone conversation started with all the essentials. Basic beliefs, religion, politics, morals, and money management. If we didn’t like what we were hearing we were both ready to walk away and be done. Apparently, we agree on most things. All the essentials, at least.

I wasn’t planning on marriage, so I hadn’t dreamed about it. I had no idyllic picture of marriage. I was a little too realistic in a way, because marriage has been WAY better than I imagined. I’ve been married 6 years, and I still think it’s better than I thought it would be.

So, marriage comes along, and we’re now a couple. However, I still can do pretty much whatever I want. I’m pursuing my goals. Finishing my education – I had 2yrs left of Law School when we married. Preparing to move on with my career. I’m happy. Really, my goals haven’t changed.

My husband knew before we got married that I wasn’t interested in kids any time soon. He wanted kids sooner than later but he was willing to wait on me. I am the one who has to be pregnant for 9 months. It should be noted that I did not spring this information on him on our honeymoon. I was very up front about it. Months before the wedding, I told him.

Baby 1
So, we had almost 2 years of happy married life.  And, surprise, I find out I’m pregnant. For me, this was my first “identity crisis”. I wasn’t planning to be a mother yet. I still had things I wanted to do. And suddenly those aren’t going to happen. I did graduate from college but I missed my graduation ceremony because that’s when the baby was born. And, I’m suddenly tied town to a little one. Now, don’t misunderstand me, I love being a mother and I wouldn’t go back to childless if I could. But, this wasn’t part of my plan. I struggled with the concept of motherhood my entire pregnancy. I just wasn’t ready. Or, I didn’t think I was ready.

The day I find out I’m pregnant, I tell my husband and I’m in tears. I have that deer in the headlights feeling. My husband is delighted, couldn’t be happier. I think that this is somehow backwards. I’m supposed to be excited and he’s supposed to be nervous. But, we’re getting a baby, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

When I saw my baby girl, I knew I would love being a mother (and I have), but there were still things I had to overcome. I had planned out my identity and it wasn’t what I was getting in life. You try planning to be a lawyer and suddenly deciding that since there’s a baby on the way you’re going to stay home with the kids and give up a career. Totally not in my plan. Oh, and try law school finals with morning sickness. Definitely not in my plan.

In case you’re wondering, my plan in life was to finish college, get a job, focus on my career, and I never planned to get married or have children.

So, at this point, I’m married (very happily, I might add), and I have a baby. Oh, boy, this was not what I had planned at all!

Baby 2
Now, in my opinion, if you have one child, you must have two – I’m not a big fan of having only one child and my first baby needed a sibling. So, now I have two. Talk about no time to do what I had planned! I have hopes that I’ll do some career something once all my kids are in college. That’s 20 or more years down the road though, so who knows if that’ll happen. Maybe it’s just me holding on to what I still think I want.

I’ve given up on the idea of a career, at this time, because I want to be home with my children and my husband’s job makes that easy for me to do. I do believe that my children are more important than my career. But, what is left for me?

For me, the identity of “mom” isn’t a bad thing. I just don’t want it to be the only thing. I think my children need a mother who is also learning, growing, and achieving (achieving more than cleaning the kitchen and doing laundry).

So, who am I now – marriage and two kids later (and yes, I plan to have a 3rd, eventually)? Definitely not the person I was planning to be 9 years ago when I started college. Not the person I thought I would be 6 years ago when I got married. Not the person I bewilderedly wondered if I would be almost 4 years ago when I found out I was pregnant. And, honestly, probably not the person I think I am now.

The sermon this Sunday was a great reminder that my identity isn’t in myself, it’s in Christ. And I know that. But, there is that desire to learn, to accomplish (again, I have no desire to accomplish the laundry), to succeed. And that desire isn’t bad. There are things that I love to do. Not because I make myself like them but because I’ve always liked them. So what do I do? Who am I? I’m a wife and mother. But I like to think that I’m more than just that. I’m creative, I sew, I bake, I play in the band at Church, I’m learning to sing (hopefully with the band in a few years), and I’m somehow worried that I’ll fail at educating my children. I manage my husband’s small business, and my household budget. I volunteer in my community, and I probably stay busier than I should. But I enjoy it all.

My children are happy, creative, busy, generally well behaved, and lots of fun. My husband is more than I could ever ask for in a husband. And, yet, none of these are who I am.

Who I am is something deeper, something I can’t really define. You can see it in what I do. But, it’s who I am that drives what I do. Who I am isn’t a mother, or a wife, or a pianist. Who I am is the happiness I feel when I watch my children learn and succeed, the pride I feel when my husband is happy, and my pleasure when I hit a note just right. Who I am is who Christ is in me, and who Christ has made me. Wife, mother, creative, and content.