We Do Hard Things: And we live to tell about it

Last week I was sitting on my bed just in awe over this battle that I had fought and won with the school to get Elijah a printer for his ipad. You would have thought it would be easy, but the amount of red tape I had to cut through was alarming and after 6 months, and weekly meetings he finally got that printer! It was a sweet victory and I was reflecting on that when Elijah walked in.

He said, "Mama, I'm sorry that you had to fight so hard and that it took so long just to get me a printer." I smiled at him and said, "Buddy that's okay, it was a hard fight but it was worth it and you got what you needed and do you know why?"

Elijah looked up at me and said, "Yeah mama, I do. It's because We Do Hard Things."

And just like that... my work was done.

Over the past weeks, as I've been sharing with you this family motto, I have been amazed at how many of you have been using it. You've told me about your little victories and your massive life struggles. You've laughed, you've cried, you've opened up your heart and you've done it all in the name of 4 powerful words.  These words are the battle cry I'm hearing as some of you are heading to the hospital or just simply making it through the day.They are the words that you whisper when you feel near defeat or that you scream when you've finally seen the light at the end of the tunnel. It's not just what we say to ourselves, it's what we say to each other.

It came to me so clearly through a text message I sent to a friend of mine. I was telling her about having to put our beloved dog Sadie down. It was gut wrenching and terrible. And her response to me was "We Do Hard Things." I could just laugh and cry at the same time! When there is no right thing to say; what a response, what an encouragement.

And after that, I just knew I couldn't go another moment without it being on my wall for me to look at when I need it the most. A little 4 word pep talk on my wall. So I searched the internet over and came upon a lovely little etsy shop named RustiCreations owned by a doll of a woman named Laura. She made a custom, hand painted sign for me that I just absolutely love! Once she heard my story, OUR STORY really, she went even further and offered all of the warkymom followers an opportunity to get a custom made sign just like this one at HER SHOP.

Not only a custom sign, but also a 20% off coupon code for all you warkymom followers on ANY ORDERS in her shop. And guys, let me just tell you, there are some really amazing pieces in there!
She's a sweet mama from Nevada who's just doing hard things like the rest of us.
The coupon code for this amazing deal is: warkymomblog20 and it expires May 31, 2015 so if you need a little pep talk on your wall, now would be a good time to get one. P.s. Mother's Day is so close!

As you can see, I hung it up in a place of honor in my livingroom, where I fight my hardest battles and need the extra encouragement.

I just wanted to say Thank You to all of you who have shared your battles with me. There are moments in every person's life when they are in the trenches and it's been amazing to see how many trench buddies I have and how many of them are carrying their flags to victory! You guys truly inspire me and I am in awe over your love. Keep fighting guys... We Do Hard Things... we just do.

We Do Hard Things: ending the whiny mommy bloggers

Greetings readers!
I have been on blog radio silence for a while. I'd love to say that it's because I'm so "terribly busy" but the truth is, it's because something has been stirring inside me that I've been wanting to write about for months, but haven't had the courage to. You see... I have a bit of a confession to make and it's a little controversial and a whole lot self incriminating. Here goes. I can't stand mommy whiner blogs.  

But Erin, you are a mommy blogger. Oh yes, I am fully aware of it. Hence the blog silence. Let me back up a minute and say that I don't dislike mommy bloggers and I do think that there are some blogs out there that are very helpful to mothers  searching for someone who feels just like them, someone who can validate their feelings. To those blogs, I bare no ill-will. No, I'm talking about a specific group of mommy blogs: the mommy whiner blogs. 

I am a believer in empowering each other, encouraging people. I am a believer in giving voice to your thoughts and feelings, I am a believer in being real about your life and in giving grace to others who are real about their lives. What I am NOT a believer in, is when you use your life's circumstances to excuse your unwillingness to move forward; to work on being a better you.

This whole thing started on facebook. I had gone through a particularly bad couple of weeks in the trenches of motherhood and as I would scroll through my newsfeed there would be blog link after blog link with titles like "Why I don't take my sensory kid to church" and "What not to say to a mom of special needs". For some reason, this really irritated me. 

Some facebook friends would post things like "This is so me guys." And then would link to this lady who was just making excuses about how hard her life was. There was no epiphany at the end, there was no challenge to work on, there wasn't even a way the writer would let you relate to them. It was all very much, a "this is why you will NEVER understand why it's so hard to be me" alienating diatribe.  I mean, I have 2 kids with special needs, I could throw down a whiner blog like nobody's business. Maybe I had done that. Had I done that? Suddenly I felt icky. Oh no, had I unknowingly become a mommy whiner?

 I thought about the whole reason why I started blogging in the first place. It wasn't to get thousands of hits, to make money,  or to go on trips. It wasn't to be featured in magazines or exalted for the most amazing and wonderful person that we all hope people think we are when we blog. I started writing because I enjoyed being authentic, and raw and real. I am terrible at talking about my feelings to people in real life. But somehow, alone  (or sometimes in a room full of kids) on a computer, I could say exactly how I felt. I could be exactly who I was. My blog gave me the freedom to say what was on my mind and to talk about the struggles I faced as a human being. Most of the time, those struggles are about being a mom because.... well that's what is important to me. There are challenges as a mother, there are obstacles. You never know if you're doing the right thing, or if you're making huge mistakes. You feel isolated, you feel doubt, you feel joy, you feel incredible love. Those are the things I like to write about. All of it.What I don't like about whiny mommy bloggers are the fact that they tell you how hard it is to do certain things and THAT'S why they don't do them.

 In my family we have a saying: We Do Hard Things. How can I look at my son who has trouble buttoning his pants, or tying his shoes and say to him "Son, I know those things are hard for you. It's so hard so just never mind. Don't do it."? I have to lead by example. I have to show him that whatever you find challenging or difficult, you still have to DO. Because the world will not just give you grace because things are hard. We do hard things. 

Fact: Taking my sensory kid to church is one of the hardest things I do all week....but I do it anyway. Fighting for my kid to get all of the therapy and medical attention he needs is hard....but I do it anyway. Sometimes getting up and getting your kids dressed is the hardest thing... but you do it anyway. Maybe going to work and kissing your babies goodbye is just the hardest...but you do it anyway. Why do you do it? Because...well because you have to. You can't just give up. It's ok to be upset about it. It's ok to want to quit. It's ok to even whine about it. But eventually, you have to put your big girl blog panties on and...do it the freak anyways.

I have a whole bunch of bright hot pink business cards. Right now they say:                     Erin Warkentin
                           freelance writer * blogger

Perhaps I need to be more specific, maybe a reprint is in order. What it should say is:           Erin Warkentin
                              freelance writer * whiner blogger

Forgive me if I've whined without giving hope, without trying to better myself, without picking myself up and continuing to just keep swimming, just keep swimming. If I've been that to you, I'm sorry. It has become one of my biggest pet peeves and I refuse to let my blog become my crutch for inactivity or lame behavior. 

Let's not settle for whineyness (is that even a word?) Let's become cheerleaders, and motivators. Does that mean that I will only ever write positive blogs from now on? Heck no. That wouldn't be real life now would it? It means I will write the good with the bad, as it comes wave on wave and that I promise not to enable my readers; my friends, to be inactive or to use their life circumstances as excuses. 

Chant with me friends:

Life is Hard...we do it anyways. 
We Do Hard Things.

The Lies my dirty house told me

Last week I had the most company over I have probably ever had in my life. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I never have people over, it's just that I've never had quite so many different visitors in the span of 7 days. I blame my husband who went out of town, and my absolute dislike of being alone. But in the midst of all the company, I also had a lot of freak out moments.

A little secret about my house: it's dirty about 86% of the time. Why? Oh there are lots of reasons why. I have 3 small children, I am out and about a lot, I have 3 small children, there aren't enough hours in the day to clean, I HAVE 3 SMALL CHILDREN.

Here's the thing, everyone that I invite to my home KNOWS the chaos that is my life. So why do I feel the need to immediately apologize to them that I didn't get to vaccuming, or that I didn't empty my dishwasher? It's because my dirty house is telling me lies:

"You're not a good enough housekeeper" says my pile of dirty dishes. "You aren't sanitary" says the little boy's toilet that I did just clean an hour ago, but now has dried pee all over it. The mounstrous basket of dirty clothes says"You are a laundry failure".  The fingerprints all over my sliding glass door tell me, "Clearly, being clean is not a priority for you."

"Quite frankly, you disgust me," says the long drip stains from an unknown origin on my walls. The stack of paper plates that I use to feed my kids each day whispers, "You don't have nice things, or maybe you're just lazy. Or maybe a little of both." The disgusting rice crispies that I can't seem to ever fully chisel off of my diningroom table secretly judge me and the dirty kitchen floor is rolling it's eyes at me because it knows I haven't mopped it in over a week. But the toys scattered all over my livingroom floor, hallway and at the foot of my bed greet me warmly; we're old friends now.

Probably the biggest misconception about being a stay-at-home mom, is that you will have all the time to keep your house in order, and spend time with your kids. You will have time to finish books, make beautiful art pieces, perhaps get a new hobby, or 5 because hey, you stay home all day and you will have plenty of time to fit it all in. I cannot tell you how many times when my husband has walked through the door and I have jumped up and felt the need to give him the list of things that I did today, and that the children subsequently spent the rest of the day "undoing". He doesn't even bat an eyelash. He's not phased. You know why? Because it's not him that is judging me. He's not holding me to a standard, or expecting perfection. But if I'm being honest I expect perfection.

It's me that wants the sparkling clean kitchen, and the laundry neatly folded in drawers. I want the baseboards wiped down and not a spec of dust anywhere in my home. I want the prestine carpets and the glorious china dishes to serve my guests with. But that's my hang up.

My mother once told me that she spent the better part of her life holding her house to a state of perfection that it almost never was. She wouldn't have anyone over unless her house held to the standard, and as a result, she never had anyone over.

So why do I let the dishes and the laundry and the dust bunnies judge me? Why is it that I feel so condemned by them? Because I let them guilt me. I let them make me feel bad for reading my son a book when he asked, or for teaching him a lesson in sharing, or answering a question that's been bothering him. I let them whisper mean things to me when I'm playing dress up with my daughter, or just holding her because she's had a hard day.

 

Sometimes I believe this guilt is exactly why there was a Mary and a Martha in the bible. Mary: great friend, follower and hostess. She sat with Jesus, talked with him and really listened to him. Martha: worried about the meal she was feeding him, if her table looked alright, if her house was presentable enough, if SHE was good enough. End result: Jesus and Mary were tight, Martha... well... Martha had a very nice house.

I couldn't say with certainty that if Jesus came over to my house, that I wouldn't apologize for this morning's cereal that was underneath the table, or for that sticky toddler residue that was all over the lightswitch in the bathroom, but I'd like to think that I would talk to him and really listen to him and possibly serve him store-bought pizza on paper plates and that he could really care less about it. Because, quite frankly, I'm no Martha.

My father, who art in heaven

Heaven is such a strange place to think about. So many people, in trying to comfort me about my father's recent death, tell me "He's happy and in a better place." And as much as it is comforting that he isn't in pain anymore, it's hard to be comforted by my dad being in heaven. The truth is, we really don't know what heaven is like.  We are told that heaven is a wonderful place, with streets of gold and your own mansion. We are told that we store up treasures in heaven, and that there is a great choir of angels who sing praises to God. But we don't know, not really for sure. And when I close my eyes and think about my dad, his voice, the way he laughed, his infectious personality, it's hard to think that all of those things don't exist in heaven. He's in a new body now, in a new place, and sometimes I wonder if I would even recognize him or if he would recognize me.

When I was a little girl, I used to ask my dad what heaven was like. He would say, "Erin, heaven is like a giant church picnic. All the people that you love are all in one place and you can eat all kinds of amazing food. You can have steak, and chicken, and chocolate pie and all the coke you can drink." As an adult, I'm not surprised that my dad associated heaven with food. But even now that I'm old enough to know better, I still can't help but picture my grandaddy, and my grandpa, and my friend Esther, and my Uncle Oc and my dad all sitting on a big blanket somewhere, eating an amazing spread of food and laughing at a funny joke my dad told. I imagine God, and Jesus and the Holy Spirit all sharing one enormous piece of cake.

But my view of heaven, and what I've been taught about it still leave me with this amazing sadness. It's hard to look up into the heavens and praise God sometimes. To praise him singing a song my dad loved, or taught me how to sing. It's hard to deal with the fact that now both my daddy's are in heaven. And sometimes, when I'm alone and I'm talking to God, I also talk to my dad. It's a confusing business having 2 heavenly fathers, and I admit that I am not at all used to it.

My baby boy accepted Christ into his heart last week. It was a moving and wonderful thing, and I had absolutely no one to tell. So I sat there, bawling my eyes out and thanking the Lord and trying to imagine the party that was happening in heaven. And all I wanted to do was call my dad, and hear what he thought. And I hoped, I really hoped that he was a part of the party. That he was standing up there just crying, the way he always did when moving things happened.

I don't know if he can hear me, or if he can see what's going on. I don't know if he hears Elijah plead with God to give Guy a parachute so he can fly back to California and live with us. I do, and it breaks my heart to have to tell him that there is no balloon that can go up and get Guy. But I'll keep talking to him, and we'll keep going on with life. And I know, that one day, I will see him again.

 
                                I know heaven must be a great place, because it's where my dad is.

Dream Big or Go Home

 It's no secret that in my life I've seen God to do some pretty miraculous things, things I really never thought possible. But this past week, God has taught me even more about his provision. My friend Ronda is a fellow mommy and believer. She, along with her husband and 3 kids, have moved around a lot over the past few years and this last year they moved to a very nice house in a new town that they love. Because they had recently moved, I was a little surprised to hear her say that she had found her dream home one day while driving. I thought about it for a minute and then thought, well hey God can do anything, why not? So I told her that I couldn't wait to hear how God gave her that house.

Weeks and even months went by and I had all but forgotten that comment. Until last week when Ronda emailed me to tell me a crazy amazing story. Through a series of incredible events and circumstances that can really only be deducted as God's plan, she was given the money to be able to build her dream home. PRAISE THE LORD!

This absolutely challenged me. I guess because I am such a practical girl, I am only ever asking God for what I need. I never feel like I deserve what I actually want. But watching Ronda's faith, hearing how every T was crossed, every I was dotted; how everything she ever NEEDED and DESIRED God gave to her, because she asked, I felt like I had been limiting God all this time. I never think of God as the one who supplies our every want. Mostly because, we're taught that he supplies our every need. I think of the woman in the bible with the jars in her kitchen enough to make food for a few days and God supplying enough each day for her to be able to eat. I think of the mannah from heaven God sent to the Israelites when they were in the wilderness. The lesson is always the same: be content with what you have and grateful that God provided. I have always tried to live my life that way.

But I was looking through a foggy window. God is our father, our daddy. He doesn't just put food on our table, or provide the amount of money to pay our bills. He loves to see his children happy, to inspire them, to encourage them, to stand beside them as they grow and dream. I never thought of God as a God who provides for our dreams. And it was like He was telling me, if you ask me, I will give it to you. So it dared me to ask God for the impossible, like really really impossible: to be able to own a home that I love in a wonderful neighborhood. This is an outrageous request, but I'm no longer going to limit my God or his desire to see my dreams come true.

I don't know where you are in your faith, or  what you've been going through, but I encourage you to DREAM BIG DREAMS. Don't let the reality of your circumstances limit the almighty.I challenge you, just as I was challenged, to not be afraid to dream or to ask for the impossible. He wants you to succeed and he's calling you to have the faith to ask, just as Solomon did:

1 Kings 3:5-15
At Gibeon the LORD appeared to Solomon during the night in a dream, and God said, “Ask for whatever you want me to give you.”
⁶ Solomon answered, “You have shown great kindness to your servant, my father David, because he was faithful to you and righteous and upright in heart. You have continued this great kindness to him and have given him a son to sit on his throne this very day.
⁷ “Now, LORD my God, you have made your servant king in place of my father David. But I am only a little child and do not know how to carry out my duties. ⁸ Your servant is here among the people you have chosen, a great people, too numerous to count or number. ⁹ So give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong. For who is able to govern this great people of yours?”
¹⁰ The Lord was pleased that Solomon had asked for this. ¹¹ So God said to him, “Since you have asked for this and not for long life or wealth for yourself, nor have asked for the death of your enemies but for discernment in administering justice, ¹² I will do what you have asked. I will give you a wise and discerning heart, so that there will never have been anyone like you, nor will there ever be. ¹³ Moreover, I will give you what you have not asked for—both wealth and honor—so that in your lifetime you will have no equal among kings. ¹⁴ And if you walk in obedience to me and keep my decrees and commands as David your father did, I will give you a long life.” ¹⁵ Then Solomon awoke—and he realized it had been a dream.

Sweet gifts

As a mom, I put a lot of pressure on myself to teach and encourage my kids. This is truly important, but what they have taught me along the way is that it is equally important for them to have each other to teach and encourage. I see it in their everyday play, just how much they affect one another. I hear it when Elijah teaches the baby a new word and then praises her when she says it correctly. Or when Noah says "Good job Wijah" when he goes potty all by himself. I hear them say "excuse me" when they want to get by, thus passing down the manners to one another. I even see it in Olivia when she claps for Noah who quietly sings a song or does a dance for her. 

I can recall, not so long ago, when I was pregnant with my third baby, seeing all the stares people would give me when I told them how close together my children would all be. I'm sure they thought I was crazy, and frankly, I kind of thought I was too. The amount of work, the amount of needs, the amount of attention was dizzying. But as I sit here in the quiet of my living room and listen to the sounds of them playing together; tiny giggles, little words of encouragement and love I think.... what a gift. Just as they are a gift to me, they are also a gift to one another. I am so glad they are a little clan of people that all get to grow together through the same stages at the same times.

My prayer for you my babies, is that you have such a strong bond. That you won't let time, or distance get in the way of the precious gift you are to one another. I pray that even when I am gone, you will have each other to lean on, laugh and cry with. That is my gift to you, as you each are gifts to me.

A bible blog

I've struggled a lot with teaching my kids about God. The concepts are so difficult to explain to toddlers. I sing all the songs, and attempt to answer the questions, but thus far it's been a challenge to get them to understand. I know they learn things at church, but each week when I ask them what they learned their responses sounds something like, "We had a snack" or "I played with my friends." Without knowing what the lesson plan was, I have no way of reinforcing it throughout the week.

But let's face it, when it comes to teaching my kids about Christ, it's really my responsibility. and I wanted to take ownership of that. Recently I stumbled upon my friend Rachel's blog about the Jesus Storybook Bible. It was pretty interesting and several of my other friends had been talking about it. She had a giveaway contest on her blog and I entered. I was so excited when I won! We got it in the mail today, and immediately the boys were interested in reading it.

We started with the creation story and I was blown away by how well they grasped the concepts. In the end, even Noah was somewhat understanding what we were talking about. I just love listening to their little voices talking excitedly about God, and what He made. They were so thrilled they didn't want to stop with just one story!

Though we have a long way to go, I feel like this bible is a great tool in stepping towards that direction. I'm really looking forward to our reading times.

Potty Bootcamp: Where only the brave survive

So I have been dragging my feet on this whole potty training thing for a while now. Elijah has had some complications with it due to his hands and his development, so I decided to wait until it was summer. I was going to just train Elijah but then I decided to train Noah as well. People have commented on how crazy this is, but bare with me.

My boys have ALWAYS been competitive. Elijah is constantly spurred on by his brother trying it first. I have no idea why, but hey why fight it? So I figured, I try it with potty training. That why today I decided since it was 84 degrees outside, and I was SICK TO DEATH of changing diapers, that I would try Potty Bootcamp. It's not from a book I read, or a video I watched, or even a friend I know. It's more like a frame of mind. I gathered the potty up, every fun toy I could find and brought the baby out there while we had a potty party.
Within 2 minutes of Noah's diaper being off, he went in the potty... I was stunned. I had no idea he was even ready. Ofcourse, as predicted, Elijah could not be outdone and so the competition began. I let them run around naked all morning as we danced to Disney music and drank lots of juice. Ofcourse, we had our laptops out for when things didn't come out very quickly. I couldn't resist snapping pictures.

Even the baby got into it in her bouncey toy. She just loved being a part of the excitement, though she had no idea what it was about.

I am officially marking Day One of Potty Bootcamp a success. Now, to stay motivated. (Stay tuned for that one)

And sometimes God uses iphones

I admit it, I am that grouchy lady in church who growls at the people who pull out their IPHONES and use them as a substitute bible. It has always bothered me. Which is why it came as a complete shock that I actually used my bible app this week. I just recently purchased an iphone 3Gs. I know, how dare I purchase the older, non high-tech version? But it was cost-effective and I really wanted an iphone. I downloaded the classics like Angry birds, and tried a few new ones for recipes, a nice little GPS app, I was all set. Then, because I am a christian and it seemed fairly un-christian-like (is that a word?) to NOT download the bible, I caved and did.

BACKSTORY:

So, I have had a really tough time doing my devotions lately. I mean, during the day I try really hard to sit and read a chapter or two, while I put the boys in front of the tv and the baby down for a nap. My prayers always seem to sound something like, "Dear God, please speak to me in the 3 1/2 minutes I can get uninterrupted to read this passage of scripture." Sometimes it works, sometimes I have to stop everything and break up a boy fight.

CUT TO LAST WEEK:
I was feeding the baby and browsing through apps and came acrossed the bible app. The boys were outside, and it was somewhat quiet, so I thought I'd take a gander. That's when I discovered a very cool "recorded" feature, where a nice man reads each passage to you. Since Olivia's constant need for spoonfuls of food was distracting me from reading, I tried listening. Ofcourse, I hit the King James Version and some british dude started talking, which totally distracted me because I got to thinking about how strange it is that most movies depict Jesus having a British accent. And I quickly had to change the version to something with an American accent.

And as I sat there, watching the boys through the sliding glass doors, feeding my baby, sitting in my pajamas, the Lord spoke to me through an iphone app. Call me crazy, maybe a little bit of a hypocrit, but I actually got something out of a morning devotion I heard through a telephone. How strangely fascinating.

Hello World

To say that life's been difficult over the last few months would be an understatement. I really thought that by 4 months, I would have a better hold on things. But I find myself in a slump that reflects this winter weather. The same old thing day after day, the constant battles, behavior modifications, and sleep deprivation. It feels like wave upon wave of sadness, and exhaustion and sometimes it seems like it's difficult to have empathy and compassion.

So I put all 3 kids in the van today, and drove to the store. I turned on my new country craze Lady Antebellum and skipped to the 4th track. It's as if they took everything my heart was saying, and put it into a song.

Sometimes I feel as cold as steel, broken like I'm never gonna heal

Sometimes I forget what living's for and I hear my life through my front door

I see my wife, my little boy, my little girl.. hello world.

Oh the empty dissappears, I remember why I'm here

To surrender and believe, I fall down on my knees

That's when I looked in my rearview mirror and saw all that I'm living for. I love when God reminds me of that.

Things they never teach you in college

When I started my college career, I was a young and naive 18-year-old. I was told that I needed to go to college to make something of myself. So I obeyed and signed on the dotted line, not thinking about the amount of money I was agreeing to one day pay.

I, like so many other suckers out there, was decieved into thinking that Sallie Mae was a great loan company willing to take a chance on a young girl with no credit history at all. Here I am 10 years later, very very sorry I ever signed that document.

Because of that signature I have had to endure years of constant calling, harrassing, and verbal threats from good Ole' Sallie mae. They have screwed up my bank account and my credit. They have done irreprable damage to me, but all that was nothing compared to the message I got tonight.

As some of you may know, I have changed my voicemail to reflect my current pregnant state. In it, I explain that sometimes I can't always get to the phone because I'm 8 months pregnant and have 2 kids. So, when Sallie Mae called me tonight, like most nights they call, I saw that I got a voicemail. Now usually I just ignore it, but tonight was something very different. Tonight one of Sallie Mae's little minions proceeded to mock me, insult me, and threaten me because of my pregnant voicemail.

I really am unsure how in the world people like that can get away with being horrible little monsters, but for some reason...they do. Why Sallie Mae couldn't have gone down in flames like all the other companies over the last 2 years I don't know. But now instead of being annoyed once again by their phone call, I'm insulted, hurt and a little afraid.

This is the Day...

I'm NOT a morning person. Actually, that's really quite an understatement. In fact it takes every ounce of patience and love I have to wake up every morning with a smile on my face and listen to the little chatter around the kitchen table. Usually, every morning I make toast, or oatmeal or something for the kids and complain and grumble in my head the WHOLE time.

Lately, Elijah has really been on a singing kick. And every morning while I am standing at the counter, grumbling in my head I hear a sweet little voice singing "This is the day, that the Lord has made. I will rejoice in be glad in it."

I think it's God's little way of reminding me to check my attitude. I mean, how can you be in a bad mood when you hear that? Really? It really is the day that the Lord has made, and I really should be rejoicing and be glad in it. I love it when God teaches me things by using my kids. It really kicks me in the pants.

Not quite the Target I had aimed for

We ran out of diapers this morning, so this afternoon I reluctantly took both children to Target. Now under normal circumstances, they aren't usually a problem, but today I happened to go right smack dab in the middle of naptime. Yeah, bad idea.

So there I am crawling around Target with a screaming baby in one arm, tugging a tantruming 2-year-old with the other arm, and trying to push the cart with my stomach muscles. I think there should be an ironman for this sort of thing because it takes real physical endurance.

I am taking this Love and Logic Parenting class where I am supposed to enforce consequences on my children when they misbehave. Unfortunately, they decided to do it in the middle of the toilet paper aisle. So there I was counting to 3 and I realized I had to enforce that discipline. So I plopped him on top of some Charmin ultra and told him he was in time out. It was quite effective actually because while I was maneuvering around the crowd that was now forming in the toilet paper aisle all staring at me disciplining my son, Elijah thought I was leaving him. And he promptly stopped screaming and gave me a big toothy grin. YES! Crisis averted. Though the stares from people did not stop.

Of course, Noah is not quite as easy to discipline, being 8 months old and all. And I managed to have all of Target in an uproar whilst waiting to check out. So if you were at Target this afternoon and heard a lot of temper tantrums and screaming- sorry that was me... or rather my children.

My Resolution: Part One

So, it's been a bit since New Year's, but my resolution was so complex it took some organization. So here I am, 2 weeks later blogging about it.

A major thing I hate about myself is my lack of motivation in the kitchen. I have never been that great of a cook, and was not cooked for growing up. So I am always stumped in the kitchen and usually just give up. This year, I decided that my New Year's Resolution would be to become a better cook. And in essence, a better wife and mother.

In becoming a better cook, there were a few things that I had to change, or rather that I am still working on changing. The first thing I had to change, and the subject of my blog today is where I grocery shop. Now if you know me well, you will know that I am a frugal lady. Any way to stretch a dollar. With Noah eating solids, our food bill has gone up and we have really had to pinch pennies. Which has forced me to be a Winco girl. Unfortunately, quality food is not their motto. So I have decided to challenge myself to be a coupon clipper. And to shop at Safeway.

Cool thing a friend taught me about Safeway. You can go online and type in your zipcode which will give you all the weekly specials in your area, and also the coupons. You can actually load it onto your Safeway club card so that when you go shopping, all you have to do is scan your card through. You don't have to go through the hassle of actually cutting out the ads. Virtual coupon clipping is AMAZING!

So to begin step one of a 3 step process of becoming a better cook, I took the plunge yesterday and started shopping at Safeway.We loaded the cart with things that I had deligently searched through coupons for and then we went with what the weekly specials were. I was impressed with how well we did. Of course, for the box things we still ended up at Winco, which made for a REALLY LONG day with 2 toddlers. But I kept telling myself it was worth it. And I really hope it is.

Today I impliment Step 2 of my 3 step plan. I'll blog on that tomorrow.

Yup... like I said.

This is a response to my previous blog about God being "Crazy
Amazing"...... yeah, He really is!

Last week, I stepped out on a limb and wrote a blog about how I knew God would provide, I had no idea the kind of response HE would give me.

That night I prayed all through the night about the hospital bills, not knowing what to do next. The next morning, I received the best gifts. My friend Jaimie told me about a financial aid program the hospital provides, my friend Bethany wrote me and encouraged me, and my friend Imaya explained how she too drove a jalopy and could sympathize with me.

God was already encouraging me. Then, Tim walked through the door with a smile and a check from the IRS that we had not expected. God gave us enough to pay a good portion of our immediate medical bills.

God was already providing for me. Then my friend Imaya told me that God unexpectadly gave her a check to buy a new car! I knew God was speaking, not only to me. Somehow it really encouraged me to think that if He could provide Imaya randomly with a car, then He could also provide for our automobile needs.

He IS good, and so very "crazy amazing". When I said I was going to be able to write a blog praising Him for meeting my needs, I had no idea it would be a little over a week later.

God works in mysterious ways, I have always known that. But I just could not have imagined how he would use a blog. Wow, I am in awe.

Jon minus Kate plus 8

Last night I, along with millions of Americans, tuned in to watch the deterioration of Jon & Kate's 10 year marriage. It was a very sad thing. But it made me think a lot about marriage. It is such a fragile thing; the relationship between a man and a woman. It's not something to be taken for granted or put on the shelf. Marriage is a commitment that takes constant maintenance and work and perseverance.

The show last night made me think of my own relationship; the ups and downs. I thought of the times that I have failed as a wife. That I hadn't encouraged him, or that I de-masculated him. If anything, last night's show made me want to work extra hard on my marriage- to fight for it.

Jon and Kate talked a LOT about how everything was for their kids and their kids were the most important thing. The problem with that is that the best thing for their kids is to have a mommy and daddy in a committed relationship, staying together and working at their marriage. When you put your kids above your relationship, it's easy to get side-tracked and to lose focus on your marriage. Too many times I have seen this happen. And while the premise of "My kids always come first" SOUNDS good, it doesn't make for happiness in the home.

I'm not an expert, especially in OTHER people's relationships. But I believe that by honoring my husband, I am loving my kids and doing what's best for them.

The Passion of the Christ

On Good Fridays, Tim and I have always tried to observe the holiday in some fashion. We've gone to church vigils and musicals. We've even observed it in our own home. One time, a few years back, we went to a screening of the movie The Passion of the Christ.

It was held at a local church and we were excited to finally see the movie to help us understand just how much Jesus went through. What we soon discovered though is appearantly Jesus went through some things that were "too graphic" to watch. So at each of the really graphic parts, the church would put the screen to black and use a bible verse to depict what happened during that scene. They did this periodically throughout the movie.

It struck me as odd that on a day when we observe Christ's ultimate sacrifice for our sins, we were kept from the most gruesome parts of his murder so as not to be exposed to how "graphic" it was. Christ's death was not a PG kind of thing. It amazes me how we have made it that way.

Well, after the service, I was so curious about the missing parts, that we rented it and offered to watch it with my family. "It's too gorey" is the response I got.

My response "ummm... yeah... that's kind of the point."

Thankyou Lord for dying for me. Not a glamorous death, or a quick and painless one. Thankyou for dying a horrible, bloody, awful, too violent for me to watch death. It reminds me of just how much you love me, that you were willing to go through it, even when you had the power not to.

The really good Christmas idea

I already blogged about the really bad Christmas idea I had, so I thought I'd write about the successful one this time.

Elijah is all legs. He's not a walker yet, but he can kick at ANYTHING within a 30 mile radius. This concerned me as I knew he would go straight for the Christmas ornaments this year. My solution: I decided to buy him a plush Christmas ornament, something that looked more like a toy and would catch his interest. I hung it on the lowest branch right in his eyeline. Sure enough, as soon as he was mobile, he went straight for his Christmas elf ornament. It was fun to watch him bat at it all night- almost catlike really. As this picture demonstrates, it entertained him for hours and my breakable Christmas ornaments have managed to survive another year- yay!

A true friend

This is my friend Lauren.

I feel like to say that she's just my friend doesn't really do her justice.

We have been friends for a long time, but it wasn't until Elijah was born that I knew just how good a friend she was. Since day 1 she has always treated him like a nephew, never seeing his obvious weaknesses, always enamored with his personality.

She's made him cast covers when I was too nervous about showing his cast in public, created a blanket for him to snuggle with in the hospital. She has pretty much been a constant through this whole process. Recently, she has cleared her schedule to go down with me to Shriner's each week, so I wouldn't be alone.That has been such a blessing to me.

Last week was a scary one. Eli's pain level increased and his doctor wanted us to go down for an emergency consult. Because most people work during the day, or have kids, I couldn't really find anyone to go with me and was really nervous about the trip. I didn't want to bother Lauren because I knew it was her day off. At 11pm the night before I texted her to tell her about it. Her reply "What time are you picking me up?"
I cannot tell you what that meant to me. All I can say is, I know God put Lauren in my life. Her friendship and faithfullness has been AMAZING.

I don't know what kind of friend I am to people, but I can only hope that in a time of need, I can be the kind of friend that Lauren is to me.

The really terrible Christmas idea

This year I wanted to start some Christmas traditions that specifically involved my son. I chose to do an advent calendar. Growing up, I remember the anticipation of each day getting a new chocolate treat. I can remember getting closer and closer to Christmas with each bite. It was a great tradition that I really wanted Elijah to experience.

What I didn't think about: this particular tradition teaches the virtue of patience. While this is a great thing to learn, it is totally lost on a 1-year-old.

I missed the first couple of days and so by day 4, he got to have 4 chocolate pieces. This suited him fine. Until the next day when he only got 1. A fit of rage ensued. Suddenly there were frantic little fingers clawing at me, trying to take the advent out of my hands. Once he realized he was only getting 1 today, the screaming began.

So much for Christmas traditions.