Tag: moms

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Motherhood Is A Cluster

All winter break my kids were driving me crazy. They were fighting and sassing for what felt like the entire length of Independence Day Resurgence. How can such tiny people have so much sass? I was SO ready for them to go back to school.

Full disclosure: I work from home so the level of annoyance that I felt went beyond simply being annoyed. Nay. This was an annoyance that felt as if several thousand tiny hands were slowly crawling up my body and clawing at my neck. Touching. So much touching. Talking…..so.much.talking.

Moving on.

So why, pray tell, was it so hard for me to send them to school today on their first day back from winter break? Why? Why did I just want to hug my littlest one (in age not size) and make sure he knew I loved him. That I care about him. That he didn’t have to be scared. Why? WHY WAS I SAD?!

Eh-Hem. Motherhood is a cluster. I don’t get it. And frankly, I don’t enjoy the perplexity of emotions that the start and end of winter break can bring to one simple woman who, DEAR GOD, is just trying to live HER BEST LIFE.

Blah. Don’t mind me. I’m just a 31 year old woman who cannot get a handle on what she wants out of life. Ha. Hahahahaha. What a joke.

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Just Thankful.

I’m not sure what’s been happening to me lately.  I can’t seem to go to a bible study, worship service or Wal-Mart without being overcome by the greatness of God. The reason I say I’m not sure what’s happening is because there is really nothing spectacular about this season of life.  Most of us probably recall on one or two hands the number of seasons in our lives where we have felt with no uncertainty God’s good great presence at work in our lives.  Often those seasons exist within times of grief, loss, fear, answered prayer, unexplained miracles or times of great joy – the times we are actively looking for Him; the times we need to give thanks or to cry out.

However, when life is feeling “normal”, we are likely to begin slipping into the habit of taking Him for granted.  The times when your family has enough money, everyone is healthy, relationships are good, you know, the “normal” times. Those are the seasons we begin to assume God’s existence rather than acknowledge it, much less actively search for it.

That’s why I’m surprised and really quite thankful that in this quiet and maybe mundane season of my life, I’ve never been more aware of His goodness. This just might be the best time in life to feel that. I have nothing to point towards other than Him. I’m not thanking Him for a cleared test result, praising him for a healthy baby or crying out to Him at the loss of someone dear. I’m just thanking.

Some might say, Lauren, it’s Christmas – everyone is close to Jesus this time of year. I call bull on that because last year, I was in basically the same place of progress in my life and guess what? I gave two rips about the fact that it was Christmas. I was utterly disinterested in the Christmas to-do list and overall would have stated that I was unmoved by the season. This year, nothing has drastically changed, no traumatic or life-altering events have taken place and yet, I’m simply overcome.

I have sat in church the last few weekends on the verge of tears just because of where I was. Not because of the sermon, the worship or even the time of month. Just thankful. I’m here and so is He and it’s so so good.

Dear God, please let me stay in this place forever. Please God may I keep my eyes on You and You keep your grip on me. Lord, I feel better than I ever have in my whole life. Let me please somehow pass this on to everyone around me. I pray God you could use me. Don’t ever let go God. I love You so much. In Your name, Amen.

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What To Do When The Shower Curtain Falls On Your Head

I didn’t do a great job today.  Everything seemed fine at first, normal Saturday morning at home.  First nice day outside.  In fact, we were playing outside when Jason left to go get a haircut.  During the hour he was gone, the dog got out because Maria was playing with the front door.  {She knows not to play with that door – I’ve told her 6,000 times.  In fact, I had JUST told her not to play with the door.}.  So I ran frazzled down the driveway after the dog wondering if I had a recent enough picture of him on my phone to make flyers with {Also I wondered, has running always been this hard?}.

Got the dog back and was, you know, a little annoyed.  Carmelo of course just HAD to fall off his bike and get an incredibly minor red mark on his knee that prompted him to scream as if I had personally assaulted him.  {Does he not understand that I just chased the dog down the street and have not recovered emotionally OR physically from that?}.

Brelynn was, wait.  What was Brelynn doing?  I didn’t have time to check because Maria walked up to me and said she had to poop.  The problem was that she had her hand holding her rear.  A clear indicator that by “needed to” she meant “I already started to….”.  We rushed inside with the barely caught dog slung under my arm.  I was mad.  Really mad.  This was the 3rd time this week she pooped herself.  She is almost 5 and has been potty-trained since I’ve known her and I know this wasn’t an accident because she looked me clear in the face to tell me she just didn’t want to stop playing.  She willingly decided to poop herself. {What is she, 4?!}  My ability to clearly think was breaking down.  Angrier by the second.  I told her she was putting a pull-up on.  She started to scream in my face {not crying scream – angry scream}.  “Go to your room Maria, just get away from me right now.” I stormed {yes, stormed} past my other 2 kids rolling my eyes and shaking my head walking into the office where I often go to quietly curse.

The remaining 40 minutes was a power struggle of wills between myself and an almost 5-year-old.  Fits of rage from such a tiny body.  40 minutes of trying to be firm about the pull-up but not angry.  Not mean.  40 minutes of having to leave her room because her yelling and hitting were out of control {and so was I}.  When Jason got home she was sleeping.  Wore herself out.  I gave what I could of an exhausted run down of events and excused myself to take a quick shower.

It was a short shower.  Just enough to wash my hair, soap my pits and recklessly swipe a razor across my legs.  I pulled the shower curtain back when it happened.  The tension rod slipped and fell hard on my head.  It was loud.  Jason came rushing in to see me standing in the shower, naked, hurt, flawed and teary eyed.

So what DO you do when the shower curtain falls on your head?  You ugly cry.  Silently.  Into your towel.  And when it stops being quite so ugly and you can finally see through your sadness, you seek the Lord…..and ask him: What the heck?