Too Much

How much is "too much"? What exactly does it mean?

It isn't a precise measure.

It is just a phrase we throw around.

But, yesterday "too much" was thrown at me when I least expected it.

Being in the stage of life that I am in and being the weak vessel that I am, there is a lot that seems to be "too much" these days.

Like taking 3 children (4 and under) to the mall or to Wal-Mart. . .

Last night at dinner, too much was holding a fussy baby, rocking him, standing beside the dinner table while my family ate, all the while listening to my two year old complain about his dinner and my four year old ask the same question over and over and over and over again.

But, after dinner something magical happened. I was putting my sons to sleep, tickling their backs and loving on them. I picked JCT up to put him in his crib across the room, and I asked him:

"How much does Mommy love you? How much, baby, do you know?"

And, his response came in his usual way, very matter of fact but with a smile:

"Too Much."

And, I suppose he may be correct.

Lessons from Flying Solo

When my mom and I first saw this picture, we laughed and decided that it should be labeled, "And, reality sets in." The reality that I am the mother of 3 boys! The reality that my house will be filled with cowboys running wild! No doubt, my journey will be one filled to the brim with constant motion, curiosity, noise, and general chaos. But, fear not, I am 100% on board and excited about the road ahead! Little cowboys, take me away!!!!!

This was my first week alone with the boys. My mom stayed with me the week Elijah was born, Erik the week after, and his mother the week after that. And, though some (a.k.a. Joshua) doubted me, we have made it quite well. One day last week while Erik's mother was with us, I was tucking Joshua in bed, and he asked, "Mommy, how will you do it?" Confused, I asked, "What do you mean?" To which he answered, "What will you do when Grandma leaves? How will you do it all?" Beginning to feel a little insecure, I asked, "How will I do what all? What do you mean?" He answered, "Like washing the dryer and all that. How will you do it all?" I reminded him that I had a very special helper boy that would help me, and I assured him that we would make it just fine.

And, so we have. I have even "washed the dryer" - 8+ loads of laundry have been done this week alone! I have come to the realization that even my 2 year old can be a great little helper! And, they both love to be helpers, so I have allowed them the privilege. Who knows how long it will last, but I am enjoying the aid!

I tend to over do it the month or so before a baby comes. I work so hard to get our entire life in order so that when the baby comes I can simply rest and focus on our family alone. And, even though I drive myself and my husband crazy in the last months of each pregnancy, the reward is sweet. When the baby comes, a peace comes over our home, and I am feeling that peace right now. Like a soft sweet breath of fresh air blowing through the house, the baby brings in a time of tranquility. We lay low for 2 months after having a baby. Erik doesn't let me take the baby to public places, etc., so we are virtually homebound for 8 weeks. And, though that sounds boring to most, to someone who has been running nonstop for the past 10 months, it is heaven on earth.

And, since I have had some time to be still and listen, I have heard God whispering sweetness to my heart. And, there is nothing more wonderful than that! I have finally slowed down enough to see that in my busyness, I was missing so much. . .

I'm not sure whether it is because Elijah looks so much like Joshua or what it is, but I have been awestruck by how big Joshua is getting. It is as if I have completely missed the last 4 years. Where did they go? Just yesterday I was holding his little newborn body, and now he is 4 years old, long and lean and growing like a weed. There is nothing baby about him. He is all little boy now. Erik and I are praying about whether or not to homeschool our boys. If we do send them to school, then I only have one more year at home with my Joshua. One more year, to be with him during all those wonderful morning and afternoon hours. One more year, to make him PB&J's and to sit down and enjoy them with him. One more year to spend the afternoons blowing bubbles, drawing with sidewalk chalk, and reading books to him before naptime. Where, oh, where has the time gone?

So, slowing down has reminded me that I need to live each moment to fullest with my children because these moments will soon be memories. Just like all the older ladies at the grocery store stop and tell me when I am about to pull my hair out because my boys are being disobedient and hyper, and I just want to. be. done. shopping. . . "Enjoy these days, they don't last forever. . . They'll grow up before you know it. . . Enjoy them while you have them. . . You'll just turn around one day and they'll be all grown up. . . Enjoy them. . ." They are growing fast. . . And, the last thing I want to do is miss it, or should I say to miss enjoying it.

So, in this, my first week flying solo with 3 little ones, I have been challenged once again to "stop and smell the roses." For years, I have said with all confidence, "I can have a clean house later, I want to focus on my children now." But, just as soon as I said it, I would bury myself again in organizing, cleaning, and list making. Because I am type A, it is so incredibly hard for me to let go and play when there are clothes sitting in the dryer getting all wrinkly or when there are dishes sitting in the sink waiting to be washed. Not only that, but I tend to find myself sitting in one of our Adirondack chairs by the swing set making to do lists (one of my favorite past-times), instead of joining my sons in their games. And, I, also, tend to put a movie on in the car so that I can call my friends and talk while we run errands. You know it is bad when you hear your two year old say, "Get dat phone off yo ear, Mama." Conviction.

It is an honor and a privilege to be able to stay at home with my children, but if I am constantly trying to engage them in activities so that I can do what I want to do. . . What is the point of that? Now, I am not saying that I should drop everything and play with my children all day. That would not be right at all. There would be no dinner, no clean clothes, and scary things would be growing in our toilets and showers. And, to be quite honest, right or wrong, I am a better mother, wife, friend, and person when there is less clutter on my counters. That is just a fact. If there is a phobia of clutter, I have it. So, I guess what I am saying is that slowing down has made me realize the value of these days. It has made me realize that the balance between doing what I want to do and playing with my children has been off in my life. The scales were tipping toward my own selfishness, and I had not realized it. I have been a different mama this week, and I pray that this new mama remains.

Now, my house is cluttered. And, no doubt, there is little boy tinkle around the rim of the toilet seats that needs to be Clorox wiped (a daily chore for a mama with little boys). But, I am satisfied. I am satisfied with this week. It was truly a week well spent.

Motherhood

I love my mom. Really, I love my mom. When I was young, she began traveling for a ministry teaching women to study the Bible inductively. Once a month my dad and I would take her to the airport and see her off on another week long trip. I hated it with a passion. I missed her terribly. We had a little routine we went through when we said goodbye. I am and always have been just a bit dramatic. I would grab her face - one hand on each cheek, stare deeply into her eyes, and say, "Promise me that you won't die. Promise me that you will come home safely to me." And, she would say, "I can't promise you that I won't die - that is in God's hands. But, I will do all that I can to return home to you safely." That answer never satisfied me because losing my mom was the worst thing imaginable to me - worse than nuclear war or an outbreak of smallpox.

My mom is an incredible woman, and I owe so much to her. She made growing up fun. She taught me that doing things for others is fulfilling. She taught me to enjoy homemaking. But, most importantly, she modeled daily for me selflessness and an unquenchable love for Jesus. And, for those two things I am so grateful to her. Thank you, mom.

When I was a senior in high school, we were asked to write a poem that would be entered in the state poetry contest. I decided to write a poem about my mom, and believe it or not, it won the state poetry contest. I'll never forget the day I had to accept my award. I was, you know, 18 years old and having a bad hair day. And, on top of that, I could not decide what to wear. To say the least, it was a stressful morning. My mom decided to throw in her two cents about what I should wear or do with my hair or something somewhat related, and I didn't appreciate the unasked for advice. So, I did something completely uncharacteristic of me, something my mother will never let me live down. . . I growled at her. Like a bear ready to attack, I growled at her and raised and my hand like a claw. I actually did this into the mirror in my bathroom, not to her face. But, when I heard her roar with laughter in the hallway, I realized that she had seen me.

I was not amused.

I can't remember if I stayed upset with her or not. But, the next thing that I remember from that day happened when I got on stage to accept my award. The announcer asked my mom to stand, handed me a copy of my poem, and asked me to read it aloud for the audience. But, to me it was an audience of one, and she was standing near the back of the room. I think we were both in tears by the time I finished reading my poem.

So, here's to the love between a mother and her children. Love that can withstand growling, whining, and outright disobedience. Fierce love, sweet love, secure love. . .

This is my little poem. I had to dig a bit to find it, but here it is. . .

I Call You Mother

I've felt your arms hold me up

when I was too weak to stand by myself,

I call you strength.

I've seen you're eyes shine

and your smile light up the dark,

I call you joy.

I've watched as Daddy looked at you

with eyes full of pride and affection,

I call you love.

I've heard your voice soothe my fears

and encourage me in love,

I call you hope.

I've felt your hand gently wipe away my tears

and calm my anxious body with a touch,

I call you precious.

I've confided in you knowing always

that your heart was open and listening,

I call you friend.

I've sat many a night in your lap

and cuddled my troubles away,

I call you security.

I've watched you smile lovingly

as your children grew up,

I call you proud.

I've watched you bow you're head in prayer

as walls fell all around you,

I call you faithful.

I've always loved you dearly

and am grateful to you for giving me life,

I call you Mother.

I love you, Mommy!!