Okay. Long productive day is done. Took care of my kids, went to the gym, fed them dinner, helped with homework, played on the floor...bath time, story time, prayer time...sleeping time. And, "I have so much to do now." I'm such a Mom.
So, I'm done with preparing for tomorrow. Yet I can't turn off today.
Some people just surprise me. I don't understand. Man, I just want to shake my head (and fist) at some folks. I'm really close to my church family...but some of them, honestly...I don't think I'd want to say hi to them on the street. Ouch. That's wrong, huh? What kind of terrible person am I? God instructed....demanded that I love everyone. But it's so hard. Some people are just knuckleheads. I could give so many examples here. For example Jane. I've known Jane for years. Jane has had a lot of drama in her life. But I've always heard her out. She would call me at all hours of the night...just to talk, pray...or vent. I always supported Jane. If she asked me for an sip, I'd pour her a glass....if she asked for a shirt, I'd give her a wardrobe. It was that kind of friendship. Granted, she never returned the friendship...as in, she never did much for me. But I never asked, nor did I do things expecting her to repay it to me. But, I knew that she only reached out to me when she needed me. I was okay with that. I wanted to bless her. But the last year has been hard. It seems like Jane hasn't grown up at all. I can't talk to her on a more intellectual level because I never know what kind of mood she's in. Will she laugh, get mad, snap at me, or blow me off? I have to walk on eggshells around her. I don't like that at all. But, I continue. So, my question is this...what is the stopping point? Where do I draw the line and say "okay, no more." The last blow up was ugly. It involved several other people and my child witnessed it. That alone is enough for me to get real crazy...I wanted to get in my car and go tell someone about themselves. But...that's not who I am. Nor will I become that person either.
I feel like my area of relating to people is not good. Just today...someone tried to trash talk about my church family on Facebook. Something about....I posted a prayer request and no one commented on it, or clicked the LIKE button....my church family has let me down...boo-hoo.... Okay, I've exaggerated...a little, just the boo-hoo part. But seriously, COME ON. Is this the Body of Christ? Are we now relying on FB to prove whether or not we are praying for one another? RIDICULOUS. Anyway, I commented...oh, you bet it did. I just said, "hey, just cause we didn't comment or click LIKE, doesn't mean we didn't see it or didn't pray; lots of folks just don't leave their 'mark' on FB, or maybe they were bathing kids when you posted (like me)." Anyway...I guess I left a bad taste in her mouth cause she deleted me as a friend. Hmm. Just like that....BOOM....division is created in the church. Wow. Is this really how church is gonna be from now on? Eggshells and FB Prayer Requests? Ugh. I think I might fulfill my childhood dream and become a missionary in China...just to escape this madness.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Exercise
So today I start Pilates. I joined the YMCA on Wednesday. I tried to go workout last night...but I didn't even make it to the gym floor. But I was close. Like 5 feet close. See, I got the kids fed, clean, in the car and in the daycare....I took the boys to the junior gym and I dropped my gear off in the locker room. As I was walking down the hall, building up my courage to workout-feeling good, by the way....a childcare worker meets me in the hall and says "Maribel had an accident. You need to come get her." NOOOO!!! Yup, there was my newly potty trained little angel with a huge wet spot on her pants. She was so upset. She wasn't crying, but I could see the disappointment on her face. I felt bad. For her. I forgot to remind her to tell the workers in red shirts when she needed to go. She was in a new, exciting place....she totally ignored her bladder. So, I retraced my steps. Went to get my bag from the locker room, collected the boys, then got the girls and came home. I was tired. And I didn't even workout. Heehee.
So today I will try again. In fact, class starts in one hour. This is a big deal. I haven't exercised in almost 2 years. I used to run 4-5 miles 3x a week before I got pregnant with Carmen. The last time I went to the gym was the same day I held that stick with the two pink lines. I tried to go to the gym that day...tried to take my mind off of the news I had just learned....but I couldn't concentrate. I was sick to my stomach. So, now that she's here and a year old....and starting to wean herself...I need to get back at it.
I hear a screaming child. I should go check on her now. Although it's not a painful cry, nor is it a hungry cry. It's just the "please come get me" cry. Time to love on my baby girl....I may not be able to later....I might be too sore. :)
So today I will try again. In fact, class starts in one hour. This is a big deal. I haven't exercised in almost 2 years. I used to run 4-5 miles 3x a week before I got pregnant with Carmen. The last time I went to the gym was the same day I held that stick with the two pink lines. I tried to go to the gym that day...tried to take my mind off of the news I had just learned....but I couldn't concentrate. I was sick to my stomach. So, now that she's here and a year old....and starting to wean herself...I need to get back at it.
I hear a screaming child. I should go check on her now. Although it's not a painful cry, nor is it a hungry cry. It's just the "please come get me" cry. Time to love on my baby girl....I may not be able to later....I might be too sore. :)
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Oh, Happiness
Oh, happiness
There is grace enough for us
And the whole human race
(Verse 1)
From the full streams
Of Your care
All who come
Begin again
Hard or friend
Rich or poor
All who need
Need fear no more
Such a thing to give away
(Verse 2)
All regrets
Let go, forget
There's something that
Mends all of that
Such a thing to give away
(Bridge)
Sound the church bells
Let 'em ringLet 'em ring
For everything can be redeemed
We can be redeemed
All of us
David Crowder Band/CD Church Music
I love this song. My kids and I heard it about 10 times on the way home from church tonight. The lyrics speak so clearly. Oh, happiness...there's grace...enough for us and the whole human race. That includes me. And you. Wow. How awesome is that? Makes me want to scream it. Share it. Tell everyone that I meet. "Hey, God's grace is enough. For you. And me. Is that not cool or what?!"
We're studying the book Crazy Love by Francis Chan at church. This book is AWESOME. It hits the nail smack on the head. For real. Today's chapter was amazing. We talked about being in absolute, crazy love with God. For example....let's look at it this way. Food. We all eat food. What do we do when we eat a delicious meal? Do we go back for seconds? Why? Do we stop eating when we're full? I don't. I LOVE to eat. I eat seconds. Why? Cause it's good. Same is true with being in love with God. When we taste God's love, do we taste then back away....uh, no. We want more. We desire more. We want seconds, thirds...MORE. What if food had no taste? Would we eat just enough to survive? Many go through life tasting just enough of God just to get by. Just enough to make it. Is that how you live? I used to. "God, thanks for keeping me safe today; God please help me get out of debt; God save my boogerheaded husband; God fix this; God do that....God help me make this mess right." PUH-LEESE. Quit it already. I'm speaking to myself here. Enough with just getting by. I want to desire Him. Know Him. Feel Him. Taste Him. Why? Because He is good. And what do you do when you have tasted something good? You share it. I want to share Him with everyone. My family. My kids. My husband. My friends. My neighbors. Everyone. You. Your family.
God is so amazing. I can go on and on here. The way He reveals Himself on a daily basis is miraculous. Little things happen here and there; there's no explaining it away. Whether its getting from point A to point B on time or finding a lost binkie in the car...He's there. In the little things and the big things....ALL BILLS PAID ON TIME! Holla!!
Anyway...enough rambling. I'm just excited. And I guess that's my whole point. I want to be on fire for God. That reminds me of another song that my kids sing. It's a Toby Mac song.... one of the verses goes like this:
Fire, I'm feenin' for a flicker
Then we'll fan the flame up into something bigger
Started out and we was hot,
looked up and now we're not
We gonna catch a fire,
catch a fire for God
Of course, when I sing it, it sounds funny and uncool....but TM makes it sound pretty neat. (that's how you know I'm old...I just called Rap "neat.") Anyway...the song makes sense... Catch a fire for God.
I am on Fire. Don't even try to put me out.
:)
Monday, May 10, 2010
Hard Candy
What a day. O.M.G.
I am flippin tired. I woke up super early...Mari had to be at school at 9, Carmen had a check up at 9:15...but before all that, I had to see Marcus to work and the boys to school. Marcus didn't pack until this morning...for a 5 day trip. Yeah, can you say, wait until the LAST minute? I love him. But, I'm happy to say that all when smoothly. Until...later.
Carmen got 3 shots today. I hate immunizations. They hurt. I know the alternative is worse...I mean who wants their kid to get Rubella, or the Mumps, or Measles? But shots hurt. I hate when my babies cry. Stinks. I know there are tons of people who chose not to immunize...well I'm not one of those. I'll hold them down. I'm evil. Heehee. She did fine...even though she almost kicked Dr. Mercer in the face when he tried to look in her throat with the tongue depressor thingy.
I picked Mari up from MDO and her teacher says "Mari didn't want to clean up today, but other than that she did great." I wanted to answer "uh, yeah, she doesn't clean up at home either-that's what I DO." But I just apologized and went on my way. We picked up David and then...this where it gets interesting...pay attention. :) I had to go to the ATM for some cash. I drive up and I'm just about to roll down my window when Mari makes this horrible gasping sound and I hear "I'm choking!"....but it's barely a whisper. So I know she isn't kidding. I slam on my brakes, and run around the other side of my Expedition. Doors are locked. CRAP. David is sitting in the front seat looking at me like "Uh, Mom, what are you doing?" He finally understands my erratic hand movements and unlocks the door. Meanwhile, Mari is grabbing her throat, trying to cry and her eyes are the size of quarters. I feel completely calm for some weird reason, but I feel like I just ran five miles. Adrenaline. I fling open Mari's door and in one movement I unbuckle her pull her out of the car...carseat and all. I felt like I was handling another child...like a patient at the hospital, or a kid in the nursery at church...I definately didn't feel like I was dealing with my own child. I just always thought that in a situation like this I would freak out. But I didn't, that's why it felt like it was another kid. Anyway, my first reaction was to smack her back in between her shoulder blades. So I give her 2 big thrusts. Like HUGE blows. Nothing, she's still obviously choking. I look around quickly "Lord, help me...what do I do? Help me." I see bank customers watching me, approaching. I flip her over, and I wrap my arms around her and right as I squeeze her little body she lets out a scream.....sobbing she says "Mami I swallowed it." OMG. Relief. Confusion. Exhaustion. All at once. I hugged her and she started crying. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. I think I needed to hold it together for her. I'm glad I did. Two ladies had come over to see if everything was okay...one had her phone ready, she had already punching in 9-1-1 on her phone..."Mama, I just had to push send!" I looked around and saw two police officers sitting in their cruisers just watching. Ugh. I'll save that for another blog. ;)
I called Marcus and told him what had happened. He said "wow, the kids keep you on your toes, huh?" "Uh, no....they keep me close to God," was my reply. I picked up Daniel then I let the kids run crazy at McDonald's for an hour and a half.
I feel relieved that all turned out okay. I'm glad she didn't choke. I'm glad I didn't lose my marbles. I might cry later. I may not. I just know that God was with me. Later on I got an email from Marcus thanking me for being a good mom and taking care of him and the kids. I know he wanted to encourage me...he's gone in Louisiana for a week. But truth is, even through all of that...I felt okay. I knew that ultimately God was in control.
And I'm so glad I took that boring CPR class all those years ago....God was preparing me for such a time as this.
I am flippin tired. I woke up super early...Mari had to be at school at 9, Carmen had a check up at 9:15...but before all that, I had to see Marcus to work and the boys to school. Marcus didn't pack until this morning...for a 5 day trip. Yeah, can you say, wait until the LAST minute? I love him. But, I'm happy to say that all when smoothly. Until...later.
Carmen got 3 shots today. I hate immunizations. They hurt. I know the alternative is worse...I mean who wants their kid to get Rubella, or the Mumps, or Measles? But shots hurt. I hate when my babies cry. Stinks. I know there are tons of people who chose not to immunize...well I'm not one of those. I'll hold them down. I'm evil. Heehee. She did fine...even though she almost kicked Dr. Mercer in the face when he tried to look in her throat with the tongue depressor thingy.
I picked Mari up from MDO and her teacher says "Mari didn't want to clean up today, but other than that she did great." I wanted to answer "uh, yeah, she doesn't clean up at home either-that's what I DO." But I just apologized and went on my way. We picked up David and then...this where it gets interesting...pay attention. :) I had to go to the ATM for some cash. I drive up and I'm just about to roll down my window when Mari makes this horrible gasping sound and I hear "I'm choking!"....but it's barely a whisper. So I know she isn't kidding. I slam on my brakes, and run around the other side of my Expedition. Doors are locked. CRAP. David is sitting in the front seat looking at me like "Uh, Mom, what are you doing?" He finally understands my erratic hand movements and unlocks the door. Meanwhile, Mari is grabbing her throat, trying to cry and her eyes are the size of quarters. I feel completely calm for some weird reason, but I feel like I just ran five miles. Adrenaline. I fling open Mari's door and in one movement I unbuckle her pull her out of the car...carseat and all. I felt like I was handling another child...like a patient at the hospital, or a kid in the nursery at church...I definately didn't feel like I was dealing with my own child. I just always thought that in a situation like this I would freak out. But I didn't, that's why it felt like it was another kid. Anyway, my first reaction was to smack her back in between her shoulder blades. So I give her 2 big thrusts. Like HUGE blows. Nothing, she's still obviously choking. I look around quickly "Lord, help me...what do I do? Help me." I see bank customers watching me, approaching. I flip her over, and I wrap my arms around her and right as I squeeze her little body she lets out a scream.....sobbing she says "Mami I swallowed it." OMG. Relief. Confusion. Exhaustion. All at once. I hugged her and she started crying. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. I think I needed to hold it together for her. I'm glad I did. Two ladies had come over to see if everything was okay...one had her phone ready, she had already punching in 9-1-1 on her phone..."Mama, I just had to push send!" I looked around and saw two police officers sitting in their cruisers just watching. Ugh. I'll save that for another blog. ;)
I called Marcus and told him what had happened. He said "wow, the kids keep you on your toes, huh?" "Uh, no....they keep me close to God," was my reply. I picked up Daniel then I let the kids run crazy at McDonald's for an hour and a half.
I feel relieved that all turned out okay. I'm glad she didn't choke. I'm glad I didn't lose my marbles. I might cry later. I may not. I just know that God was with me. Later on I got an email from Marcus thanking me for being a good mom and taking care of him and the kids. I know he wanted to encourage me...he's gone in Louisiana for a week. But truth is, even through all of that...I felt okay. I knew that ultimately God was in control.
And I'm so glad I took that boring CPR class all those years ago....God was preparing me for such a time as this.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
To P or Not to P
I'm trying to get in the habit of blogging. I am failing. There's so much to share. Everyday is different from the previous...everything is always never the same. I wish I could write a book. One day.
So I'll share my latest triumph. Potty training Maribel. Ahh, my sweet girl. We prayed for this girl. Before she was even conceived we wanted her. And she is exactly what we prayed for...and more. She's strong-willed, stubborn, bull-headed, and beautiful. I guess those first three are the same... But really, she's just like me. I can't be mad at her for ruining my Clinique makeup brushes, or drawing on her baby sister with a marker, or punching her brother in the nose, or stripping in public. That's just who she is. Don't get me wrong. She gets her butt whooped. Often. Not all the time, but enough. So, you can imagine that potty training would be quite a challenge. And indeed it was. Here's my story:
When Mari turned two I bought a pretty pink potty. She's my first girl, it HAD TO be pink. I thought I'd buy her some pretty panties, show her the potty and TAH-DAH! She'd be peein' in the toilet. Wrong. Dead wrong. She could care less about the potty. She could care less about having dry, pretty panties. She could care less about my carpet....her carseat....her bed. The girl didn't care. Okay. So we took a break. A long break. I was pregnant with my baby girl and I just didn't want to deal with accidents. So, we put on the pullups again. For a whole year. Now, she's almost 4....in July...that's almost. I hated going to the playground, to church, or playgroup...or anywhere there were other children who were potty trained. I saw kids barely talking or walking straight who were obviously not wearing a diaper. I was embarrassed when my huge, 42 pounder would speak full sentences and yet couldn't tell me she had to pee. So, one day, I woke up. Said a long prayer that went something like this: "Dear Father, help ME. I love that You have given these beautiful children to me. But let's talk about Mari. Help me help her. Give me words to encourage her. But mostly Lord, help me...stick to it, to endure accidents, to praise and not scold her. Lord...just help me. Cause I'm a mess. And I really want to be the Mami You want me to me." I went to Mari's bed and said "Hey, today is the day. No. More. Pullups. Okay? You will wear princess panties and you will pee and poop in the toilet. You will tell me when you need to go. Okay?" My pretty, brown-eyed girl replied "oookkaay Mami." I let her spend 10 minutes deciding which panties she wanted to wear...Disney Princess: Ariel? Belle? Sleeping Beauty? Snow White? or Little Pet Shop: Rabbit? Froggie? I can't remember which ones she chose...but I remember that 5 minutes after putting them on...SHE PEED in them. Ugh. Grab another pair. Another 10 minutes. I was praying all day long. We survived with only 4 accidents. Day by day it got better. Granted, I spent a lot of time in the restroom. But one day it happened. She didn't have an accident at all. Heck, she even pooped in the toilet! Yes! Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition! We ARE POTTY TRAINED!
And I am exhausted. But I am glad. I am glad that we survived without having to replace carpet or bail me out of jail for whoopin my kid. I am glad. And relieved that I waited so long. My little linguist can tell me when she needs to go. I don't have to 'watch' her and look for clues. She's a big girl. She tells me and we go. Success. HIGH FIVE.
Now, teaching her about how much toilet paper can go in the toilet??? That's another battle.
So I'll share my latest triumph. Potty training Maribel. Ahh, my sweet girl. We prayed for this girl. Before she was even conceived we wanted her. And she is exactly what we prayed for...and more. She's strong-willed, stubborn, bull-headed, and beautiful. I guess those first three are the same... But really, she's just like me. I can't be mad at her for ruining my Clinique makeup brushes, or drawing on her baby sister with a marker, or punching her brother in the nose, or stripping in public. That's just who she is. Don't get me wrong. She gets her butt whooped. Often. Not all the time, but enough. So, you can imagine that potty training would be quite a challenge. And indeed it was. Here's my story:
When Mari turned two I bought a pretty pink potty. She's my first girl, it HAD TO be pink. I thought I'd buy her some pretty panties, show her the potty and TAH-DAH! She'd be peein' in the toilet. Wrong. Dead wrong. She could care less about the potty. She could care less about having dry, pretty panties. She could care less about my carpet....her carseat....her bed. The girl didn't care. Okay. So we took a break. A long break. I was pregnant with my baby girl and I just didn't want to deal with accidents. So, we put on the pullups again. For a whole year. Now, she's almost 4....in July...that's almost. I hated going to the playground, to church, or playgroup...or anywhere there were other children who were potty trained. I saw kids barely talking or walking straight who were obviously not wearing a diaper. I was embarrassed when my huge, 42 pounder would speak full sentences and yet couldn't tell me she had to pee. So, one day, I woke up. Said a long prayer that went something like this: "Dear Father, help ME. I love that You have given these beautiful children to me. But let's talk about Mari. Help me help her. Give me words to encourage her. But mostly Lord, help me...stick to it, to endure accidents, to praise and not scold her. Lord...just help me. Cause I'm a mess. And I really want to be the Mami You want me to me." I went to Mari's bed and said "Hey, today is the day. No. More. Pullups. Okay? You will wear princess panties and you will pee and poop in the toilet. You will tell me when you need to go. Okay?" My pretty, brown-eyed girl replied "oookkaay Mami." I let her spend 10 minutes deciding which panties she wanted to wear...Disney Princess: Ariel? Belle? Sleeping Beauty? Snow White? or Little Pet Shop: Rabbit? Froggie? I can't remember which ones she chose...but I remember that 5 minutes after putting them on...SHE PEED in them. Ugh. Grab another pair. Another 10 minutes. I was praying all day long. We survived with only 4 accidents. Day by day it got better. Granted, I spent a lot of time in the restroom. But one day it happened. She didn't have an accident at all. Heck, she even pooped in the toilet! Yes! Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition! We ARE POTTY TRAINED!
And I am exhausted. But I am glad. I am glad that we survived without having to replace carpet or bail me out of jail for whoopin my kid. I am glad. And relieved that I waited so long. My little linguist can tell me when she needs to go. I don't have to 'watch' her and look for clues. She's a big girl. She tells me and we go. Success. HIGH FIVE.
Now, teaching her about how much toilet paper can go in the toilet??? That's another battle.
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