Why I Love Giraffes

There are some areas of life that most men have difficulty dealing with. That is presumptuous though, I can’t speak for “most men”; I do, however, know my man pretty well and there are certain things he has trouble dealing with. So I will address these. 

Lowell has a hard time with PMS, dirty diapers, crying, bad drivers, inconsiderate people, Tide detergent and the heat. Unfortunately, in our little world, we have two daughters rapidly coming up on puberty to add to his already PMSing wife; an infant who seems to like to poo as soon as I leave the house; a very emotional woman (that’s me); about 2 million inconsiderate, bad drivers; and more than 50% of our days each year top 100 degrees. The only thing he is successfully avoiding is Tide.

That being said, he’s coping quite well. He is learning to deal with the heat; he avoids the poo whenever possible; he works a ton of hours which allows him to escape his emotional wife; and, well, he still hates inconsiderate people and bad drivers.

I do have to give him credit. My husband is very supportive, even when he doesn’t understand  a fraction of the craziness that’s my existence. I have abandonment issues, a shopping list of fears, abuse issues, insecurities, control issues… I cry at the drop of a hat, I can’t remember sh…. Stuff…

Anyway, my point is that my husband tries. He found a support group for some of my issues. Its an hour long twice a week on Tuesday night. We’ll have to get a babysitter and its in Goodyear, but I think I just might try it. And if my pride gets in the way, I can reassure myself that its an educational venture; I’m merely researching support groups for my clients.  Sure.  
On the other hand, that would be complete denial. Because I do need help. I know I need someone to talk to because every time I get together with a friend I find myself drowning in words. I can’t seem to get them out of my mouth quickly enough. I have to consciously choose to ask other people about themselves, about their interests, their lives, because I am so pressured to talk about everything that is flipping around in my brain. My lack of self-expression is part of the reason I blog. But it isn’t enough. I still have to filter my blog. I yearn for a place of expression where I don’t have to censor myself, where I can be completely myself and completely open.
I believe it is a universal human desire to be completely known, to be understood and to be accepted for who we are. It is what makes us seek relationships, what pushes us, again and again, to reach out to those in our life, to share our experiences, to feel relief when we find similiarities with another person, and to gravitate to those who share our experiences, beliefs and values. John Milton said, "Lonliness is the first thing which God's eye nam'd not good." Right after God created man, He said it was not good for man to be alone, and thus we have woman; created to be his partner.

There is one major caveat to the whole "being known" thing... It requires honesty. If I want someone to know who I am and love me, I have to let them know me. The real me. Like, the "I can't believe my children actually want to eat three times EVERY DAY" me. The "I have sinned so many times today I just want to crawl into my bed and hide" me. And the, "I struggle with not allowing money to become a god" me.

In order to be known and to feel that sense of connectedness that we all crave, we must first force ourselves to be honest. To admit that we are scared, guilty, ashamed, selfish, arrogant, doubtful, hoping, caring, lonely individuals then opens the door for connections to be made on a real level. One that can nourish and feed the soul.

Why am I writing this? Well, for starters because I'm lonely, but also because so many of the people I see each week are suffering with lonliness and when they learn that honesty is the answer, they are so fearful of letting the world see their true selves, they choose to remain alone and unhappy rather than face rejection. When did we ever learn that beauty and worth exsist only in perfection? God says that in our weakness, He is strong. That we are His masterpieces.

Instead of being free to show the brushstrokes of our Creator, we are deterimed to show a Photoshopped face of blandness and togetherness, of fake perfection and homogeny. We rail against laws that restrict our freedom and yet we are too ashamed to have curly hair in a flat-iron world. We are ashamed of freckles in a land of concealer. We cringe because God painted our masterpiece using cool colors when red is all the craze.....

People often question why I have a giraffe tattoo.  (This is not my tattoo) Especially one linked to a Bible verse. I like giraffes because they remind me of my own beauty, my own place in the Louvre. Giraffes are unlike any other animal but their differences serve a great purpose. They are created with long necks so they can reach the leaves left on acacia trees by the other animals. They have long legs for running, for height and for weapons of survival. When I start to feel uncomfortable in my own skin, I think of a giraffe because it reminds me that I was created differently for a purpose. God has a purpose for my pains, my hurts, my gifts and talents, my weaknesses, strengths, and for where he has placed me in the world. For my abandonment issues, shopping list of fears, abuse issues, insecurities, control issues and even my memory problems.

The trick now, is to live my life knowing that I am loved, accepted and created this way for a purpose instead of letting my fear stand in the way. It is a choice I have - to allow fear to rule, or to live embracing the freedom that is already mine in Christ. It is my prayer that more and more of us will choose to be honest, choose to embrace ourselves as we are and, in so doing, to give others the freedom to do the same.

Lucky #7

Jillian turned 7 on the 15th of this month and that weekend, we had a little party with just our family. The kids were on spring break the week for her birthday so our party for all her friends is going to be this coming up Saturday, the 24th. I was not thinking ahead enough to plan to have her invitations ready for the class before spring break. Too much going on. Now that Lowell has weekends off though, we were able to pack up and head off to the zoo together and also to Tempe for a barbque with one of Lowell's old co-workers. The kids were excited because they've never been to a barbque. Such a grown-up experience!  I didn't know anyone and there weren't any other kids, but, as always, ours were totally well-behaved and had a blast playing on the lawn in the back yard.  Before we left home, we had cupcakes and gave Boogie her presents.  Nathan gave her a big stuffed duck and Chloe got her a TinkerBell Barbie and a wallet. Lowell and I got a big Littlest Pet Shop play house.   Jillian and her daddy... We still talk about how she used to say "Tick-o-me" begging Lowell to tickle her, over and over again. She couldn't get enough of it.      

Nathan and Chloe are at stages where I can see their burgeoning personalities. I know Nathan is an animal lover, sensitive, thoughtful, smart and competitive. He's really good at socceer, loves to draw, write stories and act and has a tendency to be passive-aggressive.  Chloe, I can already tell, is talented at all things athletic as well as with art. She loves music but can't sing a note and is a blossoming photographer. She loves to run and is really fast too. She is honest, sensitive, caring, a great "little mom" for Wyatt, and can be a little bratty. She has a really hard time when she isn't successful at something.                

 Jillian, on the other hand, hasn't quite grown into her identity yet... She is still testing the water to find out who she wants to be. She's definitely smart, but the "smart" role in the family might seem like its already taken. She's goofy and silly, but so is Chloe. She's creative and imaginative. But they all are... She doesn't love athletics like the other kids do but she does love to read and draw. She likes to play board games and watch movies. She is a "social butterfly" and loves to visit with her friends from school; she often hangs out the car window yelling "goodbye" to her friends as we leave the school parking lot. She has a very unique fashion sense and loves to create her own style. I've given up trying to teach her what matches and what doesn't because she has her own concept of what goes together - who am I to judge?? :)

For example, this is Boog in the zoo gift shop modeling some very attractive sunglasses we found. She didn't really like the lines in the middle of the glasses but loved the color! These glasses also came in yellow - and almost nothing is better than yellow in the mind of my little Boog. Unless its yellow with sparkles and glitter and sequins. Or Hello Kitty. Or Hello Kitty with sparkles and glitter and, well you get the point.       Almost anything is better with glitter, according to Jillie. Last weekend we had to make a model of one of the planets. Jillian choose Saturn. We got a styrofoam ball, painted it all up and then had to get creative to make the rings because she didn't want them to touch the planet... (We used bent paperclips and pipe cleaners. Turned out okay.) Once the rings were on, she wanted to add the letters "SATURN" to the rings - but not just any letters, they needed to be sparkly. And then, she reasoned, the rings themselves need to be sparkly as well because they are, after all, made of ice. And ice is sparkly.            Impressive.

In that one argument, she was able to use logic and show her knowledge of ice as well as her newly acquired information about Saturn. She was proud of herself, you could tell. I sensed a slippery-slope however and put the kibosh on the sparkles. We bought sparkly letter stickers so she could have some bling but so that Saturn didn't turn out looking like a Barbie planet. Everyone was happy.

In the zoo gift shop, Nathan also came across a bald eagle with a 10 foot wing span and a $125 price tag. He was in love. The gift shop was a veritable "giraffe paradise" and I was almost breathless with giddiness, but our time to shop was short and our money shorter. :)  We left without buying anything but the kids were anxious to tell each other what they had learned. Because of our short time at the zoo, we split up - Jillian and Wyatt with me, and Nathan and Chloe with Lowell. Jilly and I saw the giraffes (of course), babboons (seen here), zebras, lions, tigers, (no bears), African dogs, a huge tortise, ostriches, camels (being ridden), a rhino, flamingos, monkeys and antelope.  Splitting up wasn't my idea and I wasn't sure it was the best way to spend her birthday, but it turned out they had a lot more to talk about since they hadn't been together. Part of the fun was sharing their experiences with each other and trying to describe what they saw and learned. Good idea Daddy.

It was a busy day full of new experiences and lots of laughter to celebrate my beautiful 7 year old daughter. I am blessed by your presence in my life, Boog. I love being your mom and watching as you grow into the beautiful young lady you are becomming. I can't wait to see what God has in store for you and I pray that I can continue encouraging you to become that precious person you are - independent, spunky, creative, beautiful, sweet, smart ----- YOU.

Dream Come True

Empire Caterpillar, Mesa AZ. Lowell's new place of employment! :) His LAST place of employment, most likely! There are five different departments at this shop and Lowell will be working in the Main Truck Shop. This huge monster in the picture is what he's going to be working on. This is a haul truck that is used in the mines around the southwest for bringing material out of the mines. The trucks get brought to the shop and serviced on a regular basis. The work can't be done in the field because the machines are so big, the mechanics have to use cranes for anything! Lowell's first 3 weeks of training will just be on cranes! The tires themselves are 10 feet tall!!
Lowell is like a little kid in on Christmas morning.. He's told me more than 60 times, "Ask me where I work," so that he can say "Caterpillar". :)  So funny. And I'm so excited for him. Excited for us, actually because I know that him being happy at work will make a huge difference in his mood. His schedule will also be changing - as of the 19th, he'll be working Monday through Friday from 2-10:30. This will give him Friday mornings and both Saturday and Sunday with the family. This will allow him to start going on bike rides with the kids again, coming to church with us, and sleep on a semi-normal schedule!! Because of his earlier shift, I've changed my schedule at work so that I can be home in time for him to leave. I'll be working from 8-12 on both Monday and friday at the office and then from 8-12 on Tuesday at the school.
I'm always nervous when things change, especially things as big as a new job, new schedules, the very likely possibility that we will be moving to the complete other side of town (75 miles away)....
But with all the unknowns, I am completely at peace with the fact that this job came straight from God and this is exactly what we need to be doing. I was at peace when Lowell was in his first interview - I knew he'd get the job and I knew it was a blessing from God. I knew it. And because God has given us this blessing, I am equally convinced that He will provide for our move, for the kids new school, for our schedule and timing as a family... I'm sure of it. God will not leave us hanging. I don't know all the details, and that's a yucky place for me to be, but I'm sure of His goodness and His provision. And I'm resting in that. And celebrating.
Where does my husband work?
Caterpillar. :) 

Spectacular Love

My facebook status today:
Completely and totally spoiled by my wonderful husband yesterday and today... He took care of dinner last night, took care of the baby, helped the kids with their homework, and rubbed my feet --- all while I was instructed to sit on the couch and drink the strawberry margarita he made me - complete with a little strawberry on the rim of the glass. :)
Chloe's reaction -- Isn't it spectacular how much Daddy loves you???
Indeed it is, babe. Indeed it is.

Feeling spoiled even now... Lowell spent an hour early this morning heating up water for me to take a shower, then set up the bathroom with candles and classical music, and heaped bucket-fulls of water over the shower door so that I could take a warm shower to get ready for work. He also ran to the store before I woke up and picked up a muffin for breakfast as a treat. (I didn't have the heart to tell him that it was way too sweet -- I appreciate the gesture.)
All of this on top of my spoiled-ness last night makes a girl start to feel unworthy.

On the way to work I was reminded about my year-long pursuit of a view of myself that is in line with who the Bible says I am. I am loved, I am new, I am chosen and holy, I am in the process of being remade into the image of One so beautiful and perfect... And, better than all that, He already sees me that way! He sees me as pure, spotless, blameless and worthy of dying for.

When I think of God as a father, I can totally grasp this idea of loving a child so incredibly much and accepting them for exactly who they are, because I know this is how I feel about my children. For some reason however, the message gets lost in translation when I try to feel that way about who I see in the mirror. And to believe that God loves me even more than I love my children or my husband...And more than my husband loves me. That is spectacular love.

Wow. Spoiled and loved by the King of Heaven. Now I really feel unworthy.

Stories of Home

 I know I'm re-posting some of the same pictures -- I can. Its my blog. This is my dad with Wyatt. His namesake. Wyatt's middle name is Eric, after my dad. And this is the first time my dad saw his 4th grandchild. It was precious to say the least and brought me to tears more than once.

I cherish my daddy and wish he was closer. He is one of the few people I can feel comfortable being myself with - he loves me when I'm being emotional and needy, when I'm succeeding, when I'm being stupid and when I'm far away and haven't talked to him in weeks. He doesn't judge me by my mistakes and supports me in whatever I do. My children adore him and talk about him all them time. They love their grandpa and really miss him. He is so good with kids - his own and his grandkids. In fact, he was the first person during my trip home to make Wyatt laugh. Daddy played peek-a-boo with him and held him constantly. He carried Wyatt around proudly and it made my heart happy.

These are my daddy's other kids. My brothers, Justin and Jordan. They are also fantastic and also too far away. Actually, they live with my dad so I'm encouraging the whole family to move to Arizona. I didn't get to spend a lot of time with them growing up and I'd love to be more involved with their lives. There's only so much you can do over the phone -- especially with teenage boys. :) Both boys are working - Justin is a manager at Pizza Plus and Jordan is going to school to be a firefighter. He wants to fight wildfires and possibly even be a pilot.

My trip home was completely spur of the moment and wasn't even my idea -- it was completely funded by my dad's girlfriend. (Long story)  She wanted to fly me home so I could go to my dad's birthday party. He turned 48 on February 8th. It ended up being quite an ordeal with the last minute scheduling and other issues, but I wouldn't trade the time I spent with our family for anything. I was able to spend a day and a half with Mamie (my great-grandma) and Grammie, Pappy (grandpa and grandma) and my uncles and their families. Then I spent a day and a half with my dad and brothers and a few hours with Lowell's parents and grandma on my way to the airport. It was a very quick trip, but I feel so blessed to have been able to introduce the family to Wyatt and to spend some much needed time wrapped in the arms of some of my favorite people.

I got a huge hug from my daddy and I would've been content to stay there a few hours. We had dinner together, and sat up and visited until neither of us could keep our eyes open. There was no big party or major events - we just did life together for a few hours and it was precious.

 I sat and talked to Grammie in her living room like I haven't been able to in 3 years... I miss her encouragement, her understanding, her wisdom and the perspective she gives me. Just adore her. We didn't get a picture of the two of us together I just realized... must be rectified on my next trip!

I didn't miss "home" as much as I thought I would once I got there. What I mean is, I didn't miss the country, the towns, the places where I spent so much time growing up. It was the people - a few special people - that I want to kidnap and bring down into my life in Arizona. I miss them and I want them closer. I suppose for now I'll have to get by with phone calls and letters. But it made my heart happy to be close to them - if only for the weekend.

My weekend

I will elaborate soon, but for now...    I WENT HOME!!!!

Answered Prayer

There are some days I feel like my prayers fall on deaf ears; like God is too busy to hear my pleas. And then there are days like today. Last night I prayed very specifically, "Lord, I need my tax return. Tonight." This morning, there it was in my bank account. Today I prayed for something I've been hoping for and then, the phone rang and, viola, I'm getting what I hoped for.
I shouldn't limit these praises to just today either, because the past few days have really been miraculously full of blessing. Valentines Day was yesterday and I got presents both from Chloe and from my husband. Lowell went shopping on Saturday and came home with a little something for everyone.. And a bag for me. He said that it wasn't a traditional Valentine's gift and that it might not even be the right size, but that he wanted to reward me for all the hard work I've done in getting my body back to the way I want it to be and, awesomely, it could also work as further motivation... What did my loving husband get me? A bikini. My first one ever. And I have to say, I look awesome!!!! I was shocked to see my reflection and to realize that all my hard work has really been paying off. What an incredible blessing because, honestly, most of the credit for my weight loss goes straight to God. He really changed my desire and my addiction to food. He freed me. All glory goes to Him. I would still like to exercise more and 'firm up' some, that's where the motivation comes in, but I have to say, this was a great VDay present indeed!
Monday was a difficult day for Chloe. She got a slightly less than perfect score on a project and was really upset by it. (Chloe also suffers from perfectionism.) She had also had a negative encounter with one of her classmates that day that was weighing heavily on her mind - he teased her about something she was wearing and she took it really hard. When I told Chloe it was bedtime and she realized she wouldn't have time to finish the Valentine card she was making for her teacher, she lost it. For the third time that day. So, I called her over to snuggle with me a little... I held her and rubbed her little back and let her cry. And then, I prayed -- "Lord help me love her and encourage her..." And God spoke through me. Not only did He encourage Chloe, He encouraged me. The words He gave me - "It doesn't matter to me what grade you get. Ever. It will never matter. I don't love Chloe the good student or Chloe the smart girl or Chloe the good speller or Chloe the silly one... I just love Chloe." She cried more and snuggled in close and I held her. My heart was full and she was comforted. God is so good. When she had calmed down, she went into her room where she had hidden a present for me. She made me a card and gave me a necklace. I wore the necklace the next day but more than the gift, I was heartened by memories of our time together on the couch.
Then, Tuesday, Lowell put a cherry on top of my already overflowing sundae.... I came home from work feeling like I hadn't even begun to do anything of substance when Lowell handed me a clip board... He had written me a 4 page love letter. 4 pages. 4 wonderful loving pages filled with memories, compliments and dreams... I would love to share it with everyone just to beam about how loved I am but instead, I'll share one of my favorite lines... "I love your soft sweet hands. They need help opening jars in the kitchen, yet they are firm enough to place on my back and help me move forward." 
I feel blessed and showered with love and affection in such tangible ways today. I have been spoiled by my kids, by my husband and by my God. Wow... I don't deserve all this, but I'm certainly reveling in it. How lucky I am.

 I'm proud of myself... Not done yet, but pretty good.  :)

Adorable

Just wanted to share this moment of joy from a couple days ago. :) Bath time for the girls, and Wyatt couldn't help himself - he jumped right in. Simply adorable.

Peace?

I wrote this post on Thursday. I took these pictures Friday because I recognized the irony. Probably you will too.

I read a friend's blog today. She was talking about how chaotic her family is. I don't feel chaos in my house. I know that we're busy; we've got school projects, Lowell's insane schedule, crazy everyday situations like living for 2 1/2 months without a water heater... And I've got a fairly crazy job, at least when I look at it from an outsider's perspective. And, theres the fact that we have four kids. And three kittens. And I'm getting my master's degree. And we're broke.
But I don't feel chaos. I honestly feel peace. I get stressed and overwhelmed and rundown and somedays I would give anything for a break from all my responsibilities... But, on most days, my saner days, I look around and realize just how blessed we are. There isn't yelling in our house. There isn't abuse or addiction. We aren't doing without clothes, shoes, food, etc. My husband loves me and our kids - fiercely. And I have Christ. As my best friend. That's about the coolest thing on the planet.
So, yeah, there's moments where I can't hear myself think because of three different stereos playing three different songs, and I can't walk into the bathroom because they believe "hamper" is a euphemisim for floor, and I can't cook until I do dishes because every utensil we own is dirty, and I can't pee without someone coming in because they simply have to tell me about this dream they had last night....   But I wouldn't have it any other way. This craziness is my peace. Its my sanctuary and my respite from a very scary, very dark, very chaotic world. Inside these walls, we're ok. We've got love and laughter and peace and arguing and forgiveness and hope and Jesus.
Count me in!

One of the forts the kids built

Nathan's fort on/under the kitchen table

Jillian's room...

My room in the middle of furniture rearrangement

My kitchen after Lowell brought home 5 boxes of fruits and veggies

Quote

"Motherhood is a choice you make everyday to put someone else's happiness and well-being ahead of your own, to teach the hard lessons, to do the right thing - even when you're not sure what the right thing is... and to forgive yourself over and over again for doing everything wrong.   -- Donna Bell

Wise woman.  She did not specify, however, that she was talking about good moms. Not all moms make these choices. (I think of myself as a pretty good mom, and I don't make these choices everyday!!! Some days I am straight up selfish! I should be sent to bed without my supper and probably spanked with a newspaper on my way to my bedroom.)
I had a good "mom". What I mean is, the woman who raised me definitely put my happiness and well-being before hers. She taught me important lessons about working hard, going to church and being a kind, loving person; and her "mothering" is the standard I hold myself to today.
I fail. Miserably, most of the time, to live up to how well she mothered me.
Our circumstances are very different -- I was the only child she was caring for whereas I have four babies; she did not work outside the home and was not getting her masters degree at the same time... Even realizing those discrepencies between our lives, I still want to live up to the legacy of how she cared for me. She was an amazing housekeeper. And cook - although she hated every minute of cooking for us. :) Her house was immaculate - always!  She was at every event I was involved in and, let me tell you, there were a lot of them. I did dance, piano lessons, honor classes, yearbook, cheerleading... She went on almost all the field trips and volunteered in my classrooms. She was constantly baking brownies or cookies for me to take to school and was always home when I got off the bus. On weekends, she would load up me and whatever friends I had invited (usually more than 2) and take us to the mall, to the roller rink (both an hour away), to the park... 
Every year we went school clothes shopping and I remember coming home with bags and bags of clothes. I never went without... But, more impressively, I never saw her worried. She never showed me her stress over money or her worries about what she was spending to raise this child that wasn't hers. I know she had them, but she never showed me that she was concerned. I experienced the blessings, never the sacrifices.
I was spoiled. She went above and beyond. I got basically anything I wanted and I did not learn the value of money or how to help out around the house. Her rule was that I had to do well in school - that was my job. She took care of the cleaning, the laundry, the cooking, everything. (I was clueless when I went to college but by then, I had Lowell to help me.)
So now I try to balance my desire to live up to her example while teaching my children about sharing, earning money and helping around the house. I wonder sometimes if I push them too much toward those things simply because I soo want them to get it. Actually, I'm pretty sure I do this. I want them to learn these lessons and so I'm pushing them harder than I should. I forget that parenting is a marathon - not a sprint. When I don't give them everything, I feel guilty, and when they act like selfish brats and don't want to help out, I panic.
I am very thankful I have such a great role model to fashion myself after. Mamie raised me with love and care. She was devoted and selfless. I hope that I am showing her that I appreciate her by doing my best to love my children the way she taught me to. And also because I'm learning to be the best mom I can be, in my circumstances, with my children and my life using the strength and intelligence she taught me.
I've also been blessed to have another surrogate mother. I have a step-grandmother who has never been "step" and was rarely a "grandma" - she's always been more like an aunt or a big sister. She has been an invaluable resource for cooking questions -- especially, the "I don't have any ..., what can I use instead" variety! :) But, more importantly, she's been my go-to when I have questions about how to be a Christian wife and mother. She has prayed for me and supported me and loved me. She's given me information about my real mom, taught me to scrapbook and spoken words of truth into my life. I feel blessed to have her in my life and thankful for all she's done.

External vs. Internal Motivation

I had a conversation with Lowell yesterday about my blog and whether or not I was going to continue it. I started blogging three years ago as a way to try to connect with people. I also just wanted to have a place to write about our family, my life and the lessons I'm learning. Originally, I thought this was only for me but then I started getting comments and realized I loved the feedback from others. And now, I've found myself writing so that I can get input from people who are reading my blog, looking for encouragement, kuddos, a smiley face, anything to let me know that people are reading what I'm sending out into the internet world. Its not longer for me. Recently, I went over two weeks without a comment from someone, thus the conversation with Lowell. His answer - keep blogging because in the beginning, I did it for me; I enjoyed it. He said to keep writing, keep recording our memories and my feelings and do it because I enjoy it regardless of whether another person reads it or not.
So, thats what I'm going to do, keep writing.
I am considering disabling the comment option completely so that I am not obsessed with them. Maybe.

Saturday

Wyatt enjoying his second parade

Nathan is near the middle of the picture - he's wearing a brown shirt, to the right of the boy in the black cowboy hat.

Buckeye Days and 100th Birthday of Arizona's statehood. Nathan walked in the parade as part of his school's band. This is a privelege for only 4th grade and up. Since he was recently given the honor of being "first chair", he was extra excited about today. Lowell met us there on his way home from work and we enjoyed a nice morning. Then Lowell took Wyatt home while the older kids and I walked around looking at exhibits and took in a Wild West Show.
Very fun day and very proud of my star musician.

Mercy and Joy

Almost as if it was an answer to prayer -- and I believe it was! -- I stumbled upon this post this morning... Read it and find grace, as I did.

"Sometimes I wonder if I’ve completely ruined my kids. I see them copying the sin that have tried to lay down over and over again, and I’m certain. I did it. I ruined them.
But here's the really amazing thing about our God. He's bigger than our many {many} failures.
Granted He calls us as moms to train up our kids in the ways of the Lord — continually and purposefully. And our training does have an effect. But we will not do it perfectly. At times we won't even do it well.
But our God is bigger than our failures.
If we depend upon our list of mommy-successes to change our kids, then we flirt with parental-legalism. Only One transforms hearts. And it’s not us, no matter how perfect we try to be.
Our kids growing in the knowledge and sanctifying work of our Lord comes completely by His great grace and undeserved mercy. He allows us to be a part of the seed-planting process. But we can't save them. And our failures aren’t bigger than our God.
When we fail, we confess. We just agree with God that in our flesh we are really stinkified. (Yeah, I made that up.) Then we stand up and move on, continuing with our imperfect reflection.
He graces every moment with new mercies."
from:   http://inspiredtoaction.com/2012/01/maybe-ive-ruined-my-kids/

As I mentioned, I've been sick for the past couple days... I would be woefully derelict in my duties as photographer, blogger and mom if I didn't take this opportunity to share what has been giving me joy recently. Every time I look at him, call his name or walk into a room, this is the expression I am blessed with... I love the huge grin, the drool dripping off his little chin and the baby cleavage!!! Is there anything better than that?

To Add Insult to Injury

I'm sick. And that's bad. I feel miserable. But that isn't the worst part. Because I know that the difficulty of being a mom and being sick is surpassed only by being a sick mom of sick kids, I have been doing everything in my power to keep my germs from infecting the rest of my family. This has meant a "hands off" policy for the past three days. I haven't hugged, snugged, kissed or cuddled any of my children for three days. THREE DAYS!!!  And I have this little guy who is just begging to be loved on... Who could resist this face?!?! This is torture!

My husband is braver and believes in the strength of his genes to protect him. He hugs on me, unaffected by the danger of simply being in my presence. We'll see how that goes.
I think I'd rather have a sick child than a sick husband.
Sounds like I don't have a say in the matter. Oh well.
Anyway, today the older kids are back at school and Boobah and I are alone. Imagine taking care of a mischievous, mobile 7 month old without being able to touch him. Just now I had to have a conversation with him...
Me: Hey, that's no-nos. Knock it off. (He was trying to touch the space heater.)
Boobah looks back and me and grins.
And reaches for the heater...
Me again: Boobah, No!
Again, he looks back and smiles but this time reaches out to touch the heater while looking at me. A challenge. Ok, I'm up for it.
I get up and move the heater and Boobah in opposite directions. Before I sit back on the couch and get the 15 blankets wrapped around me, Boobah has spun around on his belly and taken off at his newly acquired light speed directly for the heater. Apparently he has learned about object permenance because putting something out of his view is no longer enough to dissuade him from pursuing it.
From the couch, with half of my body freezing: Boobah, Com'n. No-nos.
This time he doesn't even bother to look back, he just keeps scooting forward.
I get up again and move the heater. Boobah looks up at me and turns around again to head straight for the forbidden heater.
Listen Mister, I tell him, don't test me. I've outsmarted three of your kind already. You won't break me.

The look in his eyes suggested that I may not be smart to challenge him. He may be the smallest, but his name does mean "little fighter". A sign of things to come?   Ut oh.

Enough

It’s the feeling when I am completely concentrating on the grocery list and then, in a moment of lucidity, look up to count heads… One, two, three…. Wait, isn’t there supposed to be one more of you? I spin around looking, most likely, for a curly headed train wreck, and then call out – Boogie! Boogie?!?! JILLIAN!?!?!?!? 

The panic that starts small and then grows until it takes on a life of its own when I think about singing in front of a crowd.  Or failing.  Definitely when I think about failing. Or remember a time when I failed.   Or, for other people is can be saying goodbye to that relationship you know isn’t good for you. Or getting a shot. Or flying. Or being in the dark.  

Or, another one of mine, giving your precious child immunizations when you’ve been hearing scary stories about the link between them and autism. I think this last one is an example that falls under the heading: When doing the right thing may be the wrong thing and you’re not educated enough to feel prepared to make such a big decision.

There are other parts of parenting that fall under the same purview: homeschooling vs. public schools vs. private vs. charter vs. online; to spank or not to spank; where is the line between giving your children chores they are required to do simply because they are part of the family and then giving them “extra” chores so I can teach them about handling money.. And when I find these “extra” chores, how much should I pay for them? There are so many parts of parenting that I feel unprepared to handle appropriately.
There’s also cold, dull ache that accompanies the aura before the seizure.  When the pain, the discomfort, the embarrassment and the exhaustion seem unavoidable. When the blame and the guilt become oppressive and I begin to fear that my illness is too big a burden for my family. They didn’t sign up for this. And maybe I’m not worth all the trouble.

Then there are the nerves that seem to creep all along my shoulders, up and down my back and into my head until simply moving is painful. The stress and nerves that come from anything. From everything. And from nothing, all at once.      Neck and shoulders so tight with tension that I can’t turn my head in either direction without pain. And bending over gives me a migraine headache. These aren’t as common anymore thankfully. I believe my prayers for peace and perspective are being answered. I’ve also been employing some of my own advice. I’ve been teaching a young girl about grounding and other techniques to free her from her anxiety attacks. My sessions with her are timely reminders of my own anxiety struggles.

Especially persistent are the twin tinges of sickness that settle in my throat and my stomach when I think about all the potential harm I may be doing to my children. I may not be giving them the right experiences. I might be disciplining them too much. Or not enough. I might be creating an atmosphere of anxiety and fear in their lives. (Anybody else see the disgusting irony in that??!) I might be too strict, or too lenient. I might not be able to give them all they need financially or emotionally or spiritually...
I struggle with anxiety that comes from simple things, from life changing choices, from lost children and from imagined threats and possibilities.

It all boils down to one four letter word. Fear.  Fear of not being enough. Not good enough of a mother, a wife, a woman, a Christian, a counselor, a student, a friend, a great-granddaughter, a daughter, a sister…

I watched Wyatt holding his bottle the other day. He is just starting to master this skill. And I laughed as I watching him try with all his might to shove the bottom of the bottle into his mouth. He has the idea down, but not really the logistics of the thing. So, I reached over to turn it around and as I pulled on the bottle, his little fingers clenched down super tight so that his finger tips turned white and his eyes cut over at me accusingly. He was angry that, from his perspective, I was taking away the very thing he was working so hard to hold onto.

This made me think about all the things I hold so tightly to and how, most of the time, I have them completely backwards, upside down or inside out. Or sometimes all three. And, like Wyatt, I get mad when it seems like God is pulling it away. Most of the time, I don’t even consider that He may be pulling my treasured bottle out of my mouth simply to turn it around so that I can get the nourishment and yumminess that I’d been looking for anyway.

There is a blogger I found recently that I admire and fervently wish I was able to write like she does. Reading her posts has me searching for transcendence and perspective in my life but also has me wishing I was, again, more than I am. There are so many other things I wish I was good at. Or so many things I wish I was.  But I’ll get more into that later.

I wish I was fluent in Spanish, better at cleaning regularly, better at playing with my kids, good enough at writing to be published, an admired – well, an admired anything.  Unfortunately, I believe this desire for admiration is at the heart of the issue. I am seeking worth through the approval of other people and through the experience of being appreciated and recognized. The problems with this plan are that, first of all, people are fickle and its impossible to please everyone and secondly, praise and approval are temporary. They are never permanent and because of their transience, they are never enough.

One of my goals for this year is finding my identity..
Because I’ve struggled with this issue, I always ask the kids if they’re beautiful, if they’re smart, if they’re exactly who God created them to be. It is my prayer that if they get a strong foundation of their worth now, it will be easier for them to navigate through the experiences in life that will seek to show them they are not enough.  Along with teaching them, I am seeking to find for myself an identity that is rock solid, insusceptible to the whims of public opinion.

The Bible says I am God’s beloved child. That is a jacket I don’t really know how to put on. I don’t even really know what it looks like. That is the ultimate irony – I know that my children are God’s beloved, His precious children who He has created in His image. I just can’t believe that I am. This comes from a place of insecurity and extreme arrogance. How can I possibly believe that I am the one, the only one, to have been created unlovable? I’m working to fix this flaw in my thinking and, to this end, I’m clinging to a new song I heard:

“Tell me, once again, who I am to You, who I am to You. Tell me, lest I forget, who I am to You, that I belong to You.”  This has become my prayer. Open my eyes Lord, that I can see myself as You see me. Broken, afraid, insignificant – and enough.
http://youtu.be/eKyY8zfjBMQ