I read a post by a friend the other day, in which she stated her excitement for the opportunity to help a neighbor who was sick and asked for help getting her kids home from school. I know that feeling well – excitement that a friend is asking for something they need, because I am much better at following instructions than I am at anticipating needs. It actually made me think of Toni, a woman who, while serving in the infant room, took a particular interest in Grumpy Preschooler. I remember Toni saying several times that she’d love to watch her for us, and I remember only taking her up on it once. I also remember being so overwhelmed with a demanding special needs infant and a husband who worked 90 hours a week that there were days I just sat and cried because I felt like I was drowning. And now that I serve in cradle, I know I totally mean it when I say I would love to babysit, and I know Toni meant it as well.
Jun 27
Obergefell v. Hodges
On June 26, 2015, SCOTUS released their finding in Obergefell v. Hodges; their ruling was that Fourteenth Amendment requires a State to license a marriage between two people of the same sex and to recognize a marriage between two people of the same sex when their marriage was lawfully licensed and performed out-of-State. This changed precisely 13 of the 50 states; the rest had already legalized it.
It was, without argument, one of the most devastating blows to the Christian community I have ever seen.
Not for that reason, though – not because boys can marry boys and girls can marry girls, but because what little community still identified as Christian turned decidedly against each other in a hateful attack of unbelievable proportions. It stunned me and as I sat reading the responses, I became completely incensed, shaking in disbelief. The anger. The rage. The hatred. You know, just like Jesus was. Oh wait a second…
That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!
Jun 08
The Desks Are In…
Sheesh, y’all, I have waited for this day…wow. Long time. As you know, Hubbin’s dad is a woodworking extraordinaire, and I had him custom build desks for the-room-that-just-whatever (it was a dining room, then an office, then a dining room, then a play room, and now it is turning back into an office). So, I asked Hubbin’s dad to custom build identical desks because I can live in total chaos as long as it is symmetrical. THERE MUST BE SYMMETRY IN MY WORLD OR MAMA WILL FALL APART.
Anyway, So at last post, I’d painted the living room a very, very light shade of gray. Today, Hubbin’s dad delivered the desks. And oh…guys. He does such beautiful work. I kind of picture it like this, but without the sad ending and drugs and swearing and all the dead people:
I tend to want to wait to post until it’s all done, but that is really boring and no one else on Earth does that. So, ignore the curtains that aren’t going to stay, the rug that will be replaced, the thing in front of the window that’s going up to my room, and a million other things. And know that there are lots of decorations coming and they are going to be beautiful. But for now, just look at the beautiful work. It is exactly how I pictured it, and Irvin (Hubbin’s father) nails it EVERY SINGLE TIME.
That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!
May 16
Scared
I heard this quote listening to Jen Hatmaker‘s Willow Creek podcast from Mother’s Day, and I immediately thought of how scared I am as a parent. I think I’ve gotten better, I really do, but I have a long way to go.
This was never more apparent to me than
this past summer when my friend Jessica invited Jason and I out on the boat. I watched as her daughter, a year younger than Grumpy Toddler, was fearless with the water. FEARLESS, y’all, in the best way possible. She was FUN fearless. Jumped in, swam, played in the waves. In contrast, Charlotte clung to us in our laps, and I realized that she was the result of a mom who tried desperately to remove anything that could possibly cause her harm or sadness or discomfort. I had bubbled her right into boring.
When I think back to my life, and the moments that grew me, they really were just not all that fun. They were times I would have skipped if given the chance – if God had given me the foresight into the future. The babies I lost, the marriage that failed, the friendships that I walked away from, those horrible decisions I made. Like it or not, though, the bad grows us. And as I scrambled to block impending discomfort from my kids, I robbed them of their ability to be strong, determined women. Strong mothers. Dependable employees. I took away some of the experiences that would have forced them to learn to problem solve. In short, I decided to get their education FOR them so they wouldn’t have to – as if somehow that was a good thing.
That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!
May 11
Kids Are Resilient.
This picture was taken the day we separated.
They are, aren’t they? Kids can withstand so much; they’re just so resilient.
I hear this a lot when adults justify the decisions they make; I actually said it once to justify my own divorce. Kids are resilient; and she’s young! At five months old, she’ll never remember us together, so it’s not like she’ll miss having her mom and dad together. It will be her normal.
Lots of rationalizations, there. In retrospect, it wasn’t actually important that I end my marriage sooner because it wouldn’t actually be better for her. It would actually be better for me.
It hurts just to type that, y’all. To admit it, right there in black and white. Sometimes transparency is for the birds. I convinced myself that The Oldest One would be better if mama was happy. You know what didn’t occur to me, though? Making the best of the situation. Maybe not making it obvious that we were unhappy. Perhaps acting like a grown up. You know what kids don’t do? Analyze their parents to see if their happiness is at an adequate level. Kids are naturally kind of narcissistic, and I don’t think they really care if their parents are happy because I don’t think they notice, unless there is abuse.
That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!
May 08
Fifth Grade Graduation
Lord, y’all, this is going to be a doozy for me. The Oldest One brought home a formal invitation for her 5th grade graduation. In very fancy writing, it says:
With great happiness, we,
the Fifth Grade Class of (I ain’t dumb enough to list her school y’all),
invite you to join us on
Graduation Day
Friday, the twenty-second of May,
two thousand and fifteen
at nine o’clock in the morning.Appropriate attire is encouraged.*
*For those of you that aren’t in the South, that means leave your wife beaters and camo at home.
Let’s talk about these snowflakes, ok? I love my child. She is brilliant (typical straight A’s) and I am proud of her for pulling her C up after I asked her if she liked fifth grade so much she wanted to do it all over again. I think she is sweet as pie and the cats pajamas and all those things. I love being her mother.
But folks, graduating fifth grade is REQUIRED BY LAW. Why are we acting as though passing a grade is something worthy of pomp and circumstance? It is not. I appreciate you brushing your teeth every day, but I am not holding a ceremony over that either. If she does not go on from fifth grade, they will jail me. School is compulsory. SO IS MY WORK, AND I’M NOT USING VACATION TIME FOR THIS.
That isn’t it, y’all. You have to click here to read the rest!
The Lackadaisical Mom
