This Mom Stuff

This mom stuff.  It's hard.  I know I'm not telling any mom anything new, but man!  Sometimes, most of the time, I feel like I am completely failing these kids.  I think, "Lord, what were you doing when you gave these kids to me? You know I'm just gonna mess them up right?"  I've thought that a lot this past week.

When we were in church for less than five minutes and she starts fighting me, because she doesn't want to sit still.  I thought it then.  She wants to get down.  She wants to run.  She wants to tell every person there, "Hi!"  I told her she had to stay there.  She could sit between me and her sister, or she could sit on my lap, but she could not get down.  "NO!"  "Lord, I'm not cut out for this." From there, everything goes down hill.  Fast.  She not only doesn't want to sit still, she isn't going to sit still.  I decide I have to take her to the back of the church.  But I'm the only parent there and I have two kids.  I have to take both of them to the back of the church.  One is happy that she's getting to move...finally.  The other is freaking out because she wants to sit still.  She wants to be in church.  "I'm failing again.  I'm messing this up. Again."  We went home.  Ten minutes into the service and we went home.  Loud tear-filled protests from the back seat, quiet defeated tears in the front.  "Lord, I can't even control my kids for ten minutes.  I'm trying to trust that I'm the right parent for these kids, but I don't feel it.  Not right now."

When that beautiful round face with those round brown eyes looks at me and says, "You're a bad mom," or "You're so mean," I think it then.  Not so much when she says, "That means you don't love me anymore." That one's so ridiculous it can't be true. Ever.  But the first two, those cut deep.  Those are my biggest fears. The very things I hear in my mind at the worst moments.  When those thoughts are voiced by the angry voice of my three year old, it's too much. "Lord, what am I doing wrong? I don't think I'm ever going to get this."

Then there are times when it seems like things might be okay.  I may not screw them up completely.  When I was in bed all day with a stomach bug and that three year old brought me two get well pictures.  "Here, Momma.  I'm gonna put this under your pillow." "Lord, I love that sweet girl"  When the chubby hands of a two year old sandwich my face and in her best growly voice she says, "My yuv you more!"  "Not possible."
 

This mom stuff. It's hard.  It's hard and messy and beautiful.  It's revealing my worst flaws and my biggest strengths.  It tears my heart open in one breath and in the next it's healing it and giving it new life.  In those worst moments when I doubt myself the most and my heart cries out, "Lord, why did you entrust these amazing beings to me?  You know I'm probably just going to mess them up, right?  You get that, don't you?"  I am so grateful when I feel Him whisper back, " I get it.  Alone you probably would mess them up. But you aren't alone.  I'm here.  I wouldn't have lent you my children and then left you to do it on your own.  Lean on me. Parent with me."

I so often forget that they were His first.  I fight for them (or with them) everyday, and think of them only as mine and Adam's. But they were His first, and they are His now, and when it's all said and done, they will go home to Him.  I'll do my best while I'm here with them.  I'll keep my heart open to His whispers and when it gets to be too much, I'm gonna turn to Him and say,  "All right, it's your turn.  Momma needs some me time!"

P.S.  I know the dad stuff is hard also, but I don't have any of those experiences to draw from. ;)

Growing Pains

A few things happened today that have me writing tonight.

1. Aubrey is no longer sleeping in a crib.  My baby is now in a toddler bed.

I'm hoping she doesn't fall out of it.  I put up a little bit of a barrier with a rolled up blanket under the sheet.  If that doesn't keep her in I have the Dora couch strategically placed in front of the bed.  If she falls the two feet, it'll be on something soft.  Mother of the Year right here.  

Warning: If you are offended by the sight of toddler urine, do not look at the next image.

2. Aubrey used the big girl potty!

That's right.  Baby got mad at me while she was sitting on the potty, started throwing a fit and when she started crying, she started peeing.  Adam thinks this is why her diaper is always full.

3. Eva has a new phone friend.  She was having a very long conversation on her phone.  I was curious.  Who could she be talking to?  So I asked.  Normally the answer would be Daddy, Mammy, Aunt Sissy, etc.  Not this time.  Nope, my first born was talking to her husband.  Whaaaat!  I don't think so.  

Too much growing today.  Big girl bed, big girl potty and marriage.

It's amazing to me how you can feel so many emotions as a parent.  I love watching them accomplish new things.  I love seeing how proud they are of themselves.  I want them to grow and at the same time I want them to be babies forever.  (As long as they're happy babies.  I don't want the tantrum throwing babies. They can grow up.)

I don't want to forget these things that they do and say.  So here's January in phone pictures.

I finally got to meet this guy and I fell in love again.  I have the world's most adorable nephews.

We went on a date for his birthday...

...and ended up at Home Depot.  Loved this flooring...

...and this rug.

Enjoyed a warm-ish January day with hot chocolate and

hot coffee.

They had a beach party in Eva's bedroom.

Silly girl with a new hair cut.

Another warm January day. Just me and my bible during nap time.  Glorious nap time.

Aubrey realized coloring on herself was better than sharing the dry erase board.

I realized it will be a while before I can have a rug like the one at Home Depot.

I Don't Want to Be a Teenager

I was definitely a follower in high school.  If my friends thought it was the thing to do, then it was the thing to do.  I didn't realize it at the time though.  In my crazed teenage mind, it was my own original idea that just happened to be exactly like my friend's idea.  Oh my gosh! We're so much alike!  No wonder we're friends!!!!! (Insert present day eye roll)

At one point several girls I knew were getting belly button rings.  Do people get those anymore? Well, since they all had one, I had the brilliant idea that I needed one too.  Actually, what I really wanted was a tongue ring.  I remember telling Dad that.  I was so serious, and I'm pretty sure that was the point he thought I had lost my mind for good.  I was like a dog on a bone with this thing.  I think Mom and Dad just got to the point that they were sick of hearing me talk about it.  They knew it was a mistake, but it was one that I was bound and determined to make  so they were going to let me, knowing it would be one of those moments I look back on and shake my head at.  So, I was allowed the belly button ring on the condition that I didn't talk about getting a tongue ring again until I had graduated high school and was in college.  DEAL!

Well played, Mom and Dad.  Well played.

I don't think anyone outside of my family ever saw that thing.  I wasn't the skinny girl in school so I didn't wear shirts that exposed my belly or bikinis in the summer.  Heck, I wouldn't hardly wear shorts because of my poor self-image! But this belly button ring. Had. to. have. it. By the time I got into college I was over the darn thing (not that I would have admitted that to Mom and Dad) and there was no way I was going to spend my money on a tongue ring.  That would have been just stupid.  I needed that money for cigarettes! (One more eye roll)  I eventually just took it out and never put it back in.  I thought it would heal.  It doesn't.  There is still a hole in my belly button.  One that will always be there.  And let me tell you, this is most definitely an invention for people who have not had babies.  Belly button ring hole + stretch marks from two pregnancies = Oh my goodness, I just lost my lunch!

I can't say it's all bad though.  If nothing else, I may be able to use it as a tool in raising my girls.  Yesterday as I was getting dressed, Eva noticed my belly button ring hole.  With a very confused look on her face she asked, "What's that?"  I looked down to where she was pointing and said, "Oh. Well, when Momma was a teenager I was a little silly and thought it would be a good idea to get a belly button ring.  It's kind of like an earring for your belly button...silly.  Mamaw and Pappy told me I shouldn't, but I didn't listen.  Silly."  She thought on this for a little while and with disgust dripping from her voice she says, "I don't want one of those, and I DON'T want to be a teenager!" Amen, baby girl.

I realized in that moment, as they become older and in their teenage wisdom think they know all, I will have a weapon to fight teenage stupidity.

"Oh yeah, you think you know better than Momma? Well I did too." and WA-BAM! There's the belly button ring hole staring at them!

Their friends are over and they start getting a little full of themselves and mouthy.  "Think you're smarter than Momma, huh?"  WA-BAM! 

"You wanna try out the newest trend, like shaving your head or getting a tattoo of Justin Bieber (I hope to God, those don't ever become a thing)?"  WA-BAM! "So did I!"

Me and my belly button ring hole, we have a special relationship now.  I may never be able to wear a bikini (not that I would have to begin with) but I will be able to disgust and humiliate my children.  And maybe, just maybe teach them that sometimes Mom and Dad do know what they're talking about. 




P.S. You were right, Mom and Dad.  I should have listened.