Good Enough.

It fell right off - this blog, I mean - right off my plate!

Somewhere between Tucker's baptism and 1st birthday, Thanksgiving and Maisy's Advent program, Christmas shopping and house guests and everyday life...

I looked at my laptop at the end of a long day and I thought: I'll blog about it tomorrow.  For about 12 days, apparently.  

Welcome to tomorrow!  

Technically, it is Day 32 of the Keep-Your-Cool 30-Day Challenge.  So...

Was I more patient, especially with Maisy?

Did I show more self-control when angry words wanted to fly out of my head?

Am I officially a perfect mom now?  (Haha)

Here's my answer: Good enough.  

It was good enough.  

This is a time of year when it's easy for me to remember a couple of special "big kids" who lived with us for what we thought would be forever, and what turned out to be just awhile.  

At times anger has burned inside of me for the injustice of it all - the injustice of babies and small children who grow up not knowing whether they would be fed that day, or whether their diapers would be changed, or whether things would be seen that could never be unseen, or whether cries would be met with comfort, anger, or Nothing. At. All.  And the injustice of Fetal Alcohol, stacked right on top. It burns inside of me - the anger, the sadness.  

And I wish we could have been the answer for those two kids... but we weren't.  I wish awhile could have been forever... but it wasn't.  Other parents get to be their answers and their forevers, and I'm a little jealous of those parents, in a way that maybe only people who have been in my shoes could understand.  Maybe more than anything, I wish I could have turned back the clocks and been their mom right from birth, however strange and impossible that may sound.  More than once I have wished I could have been their imperfect, good enough mom right from the start.  But impossible it is. 

 

My point is, when I look back at these last 32 days and beyond, I know that even though it hasn't always been great, it's been good enough.  My two lucky children are safe and fed and loved and cared for and they always have been.  

I fed them when they were new babies, hungry in the night.  I changed the 12th dirty diaper in a day and calmed raging diaper rashes.  I tucked them under warm blankets on cold nights.  I held their small hands in busy parking lots.  

And if I lose my temper sometimes, or make plenty of parenting mistakes along the way, I still know it's good enough.  

My children are growing up loved in this often messy, sometimes hectic, never perfect home, and it's good enough.  

Worth a Thousand: Siblings!

What am I thankful for this year?

Siblings!

Fast 5: Being Mom

1.  It's possible for me to spend hours accomplishing absolutely nothing of value just by walking from room to room and cleaning whatever mess I spot in my peripheral vision.

2.  I relish the moment when Child #1 finally FINALLY finds a way to entertain herself... a few minutes later, I start to worry about what she's up to because it's Just. Too. Quiet.

3.  When I changed my baby's up-the-back blowout this morning, I noticed his pajamas were coated with dog hair even though we actually vacuumed within the past 48 hours (victory!).  It reminds me of why I don't dress my children in fleece when we'll be going out in public.

4.  I suddenly realize I'm like a talking Magic-8 Ball.  I shake my head and out pop relevant, helpful phrases such as "No more buts." and "Because I said so." and "1... 2..........."

5.  I planned to get groceries very early this morning before my husband left work.  I didn't.  It's now 10:50 am.  The baby has been napping for an hour and a half and the preschooler is taking a time out (I got to "3").  It's actually been a really long time out, and it occurs to me that it's Just. Too. Quiet. Again. And by the way, tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  Wait, the baby is awake... and Go!

Say it 5 times fast: NebuchadnezzarNebuchadnezzarNebuchadnezzar

This is what I wanted to blog on Saturday, the day after my "I'm SO humbled" post.  

I've had my battles with Pride.  And even though Friday's post focused on how parenthood has humbled me - and oh, how it has! - I still have my battles. 

I had an email conversation with a friend on Saturday morning regarding my "Humbled" post.  She told a story about a very recent humbling experience of hers.  As I read and replied, I realized that I'm still fighting my Pride.

In the PreK-K Sunday School class I teach, or the Adult ELL ministry I direct, or even keeping my cool when I've explicitly prayed for help with it, I sometimes get so caught up in the details, the planning, the doing, that I forget what it's all about: WHO it's all about.  When a lesson goes well, or someone really "gets" it, or a relationship grows, I sometimes forget... it's a God thing.  Every idea, skill, gift, comes from God.  But I can get so lost in the details that I forget to give the glory to God.  

This is exactly what I was thinking about, and praying about, on Saturday morning.

Then, not 15 minutes later - and why am I always so surprised??? - my Bible reading plan took me straight to Daniel 4 and the story of King Nebuchadnezzar. 

Here it is, in a nutshell:

Nebuchadnezzar dreams about this huge, beautiful, shady tree.  In the dream, a voice from heaven demands, "Cut it down!"

Daniel comes in to tell what it all means.  "You're the tree!  You've got to get yourself under control, or God is going to help you figure things out the hard way."

Not long after, Nebuchadnezzar looks over his whole kingdom and basically says, "I'm awesome!  Look at all this!  It's MINE, and I made it this great."

Immediately comes the voice from heaven, and it happens.  Nebuchadnezzar loses his mind and ends up in the fields for "seven periods of time", eating grass like an animal.  

He finally gets it:

34 At the end of that time, I, Nebuchadnezzar, raised my eyes toward heaven, and my sanity was restored. Then I praised the Most High; I honored and glorified him who lives forever....

36 At the same time that my sanity was restored... I was restored to my throne and became even greater than before. 37 Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and exalt and glorify the King of heaven, because everything he does is right and all his ways are just. And those who walk in pride he is able to humble.

I don't want to be like Nebuchadnezzar.  

I need to raise my own eyes toward heaven and give God all the glory, all the time.   

It's Day 15, and I'm praying for humility, again.

Worth a Thousand: Tucker's Baptism

:)

A hand-painted gift to Tucker from the middle school youth group at church: 

The waters of baptism

And words chosen and read by my brother Jef, 

on behalf of Jef & Jen, Tucker's sponsors: 

9 For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you. We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives,[a] 10 so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God,

Colossians 1:9-10

Amen!

"I'm SO humbled..."

"I'm so humbled...

...to have won this lifetime achievement award today...

...to have been elected as your fearless leader...

...to have been selected as the Most Awe-Inspiring Person of 2013..."

Maybe I'm strange, but when I've won an award or been selected for some kind of honor, I don't actually feel all that humbled.  I usually feel pretty proud of myself.  I might try to hide it, which is maybe what all those Oscar winners are trying to do, but on the inside I'm feeling good, and not necessarily all that humble.  

In some areas of my life, especially academically, success has come fairly easily.  And success and humility are not always the best of friends.  

Humility has been a little easier to come by in the past several years, since parenting doesn't come with a textbook, a syllabus, and a weekly 20-point spelling test.  

Parenthood is more like an open-ended project with an empty rubric that I know needs to be filled with things like "Love" and "Discipline", but I'm not really sure how or what kind or when or to what extent. 

In school, I may have kept track of how many math facts I could whip out in one minute.  

In parenthood, I may keep a mental tally of other things, like how many loads of clean laundry are piled on my couch waiting to be folded.  Or how many dirty diapers Tucker has produced since dinnertime (Yes, folks, I'm a broken record, the yuck is still happening over here.)

In school, I may have gotten a "way to go" sticker or a smiley face at the top of a paper I turned in.

In parenthood, I get a bear hug from my preschooler for that amazing PB&J I made at lunch (way to go!), but this is swiftly followed by my near-1-year-old crawling madly towards me and trying to physically force his sister out of my arms, because no, they are not my arms, they are actually an extension of his body.

In school, I may have smiled to myself when my work was displayed in a hallway somewhere.

In parenthood, I try to laugh at myself when I see the hallway display at preschool: Yes, my daughter was the one thankful for "TV" while pretty much the rest of her class was thankful for "mommy."  

Surely God has his own reasons for giving us the children he does, and I have no doubt that humility is one of them.  

I'm proud of my kids, the bright and funny things they say and do. 

But I'm also humbled - seriously humbled - because I don't actually know how to effectively discipline my high-spirited little girl...

 and I'm actually kind of worried that my son is going to take teething to the next level and start biting (eek!)...

and the responsibility sometimes feels like a heavy weight...

 and I don't feel nearly as old and well-equipped as I assumed my mom was when I was the child and she was the parent...  (Sorry for calling you old, Mom!)

and I've made mistakes, not just with these two little ones, but with our two former foster children who are other places now, with other parents (older? better-equipped?)...

But I think maybe God likes this kind of humility.  All over the Bible, His people talk about giving glory to God.  And what better way to give glory to God than to realize that you can't do it without Him.  You NEED His Daily Bread.

So, for Day 12, go ahead and pray for a little more of that kind of humbled.    

Deuteronomy 8:2-3 And you shall remember the whole way that the LORD your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep his commandments or not. And he humbled you and let you hunger and fed you with manna, which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that he might make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD.

miracles.

I prayed for thankfulness today, on Day 11, but I had a hard time really keeping it in my mind as the day dragged on.  

I don't know why it felt so long.  At 4:55, I looked at the clock and thought, "Not too much longer until Rick comes home, but long enough!"  

My hands smelled faintly like Maximum Strength Desitin, but Tucker was still red and raw.  My hands were cracked and stinging from post-diaper change washes.  

I remembered a quote I heard at MOPS a year or so ago: "The days are long, but the years are short."  

Yes!  Some days are so long.

But tonight we had free passes to a Family Fun Night at The Works children's engineering museum, and Maisy was dancing around in flashing pink cowgirl boots and an oversized Dora t-shirt, with a long, curly ponytail flying behind her as she ran from place to place.  I thought, "She looks so much older tonight that I hardly recognize her!"  

The years are short. 

Tucker is almost one year old!  He is an absolute joy.  By this point in Maisy's year, I had dedicated many a blog post to her, and I don't think Tucker has had any (unless you count the Poop post, poor guy!).  Maybe I'm too busy chasing him from cabinet to outlet to toilet!  As Maisy would put it, "I love him so much I can't even say it!"

We got back from The Works tonight, and as Rick hustled Tucker inside for yet another diaper change, I attempted to bring Maisy in to get her ready for bed.  But there was fresh snow on the ground, and Maisy could not resist its draw.  I wish I could say that I just let her fly through it until she got cold or tired and wandered in with rosy cheeks.  Haha.  Riiiiight...  I let her go for a little while, fleetingly thinking, "cute", then I became impatient.  As she let snow slide off her mittens, I called to her again.  As she dashed around watching her footprints make a trail behind her, I called again.  And again.  Then I counted to 3, at which point I chased her down (as she laughed), hoisted her under my arm, and carried her inside.  If she wasn't tired, I was!

It's after 9 now, and both kids are tucked in.  I stumbled on this video.  Maybe you've seen it.  I teared up and remembered...

my kids are miracles.

So I sign off on this inexplicably exhausting evening with my favorite passage of scripture for tired days, and a video that made me smile through my tears.

28 

Do you not know?

    Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

    the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He will not grow tired or weary,

    and his understanding no one can fathom.

29 

He gives strength to the weary

    and increases the power of the weak.

30 

Even youths grow tired and weary,

    and young men stumble and fall;

31 

but those who hope in the Lord

    will renew their strength.

They will soar on wings like eagles;

    they will run and not grow weary,

    they will walk and not be faint.

Isaiah 40:28-31

Ward Miles - First Year from BenjaminScot on Vimeo.