Good Intentions

I had every intention of getting some good cleaning done tonight.  The back area of our kitchen has never recovered from the move...there is a perfectly good countertop back there piled high with all manner of random junk:  a brown grocery bag of light bulbs, washing machine hoses, a bag of those safety covers for long blind cords, felt stickies for the bottom of furniture legs, a level.  The list could go on, but I think the point is made.  Most of it was in our laundry room in the other house, and it just needs to find a good spot to live here in this house.  We also have a laundry sorter that keeps laundry separated into three piles.  It sat in the middle of the floor back there, taking up so much space.  And it never accomplished its purpose of sorting; our laundry just got dumped in helter-skelter with nary a thought to lights, darks, whites, towels, rags, or however we might have come up with a system to organize our dirty laundry.

Do you know when we were first married I drove our laundry to Mike's campus where there was a big laundry room and just did it all at once every so often?  I would do 8-10 loads at a time.  And I folded all of our dirty laundry in the baskets so that it would all fit nicely.  I had a lot of time on my hands back then.  I cannot even get our clean laundry folded and put away, much less fold up our dirty stuff.

Anyway, I was trying to get that sorter out of the kitchen and had just started cleaning the floor, on my hands and knees with a soapy rag, when Eliana started crying.  It was a little after 9:00 p.m.!  This was way too early!  I pretty much told her to get out of her bed on her own (which she can now do...help me, please!) and she followed me around while I finished wiping the floor.  I got her settled again, and tried to start in on the kitchen once more, but soon heard her little feet patting my way.  She was crying.  I asked her if she was okay, washed my hands up, and changed my clothes so that I felt cleaner.  I finally picked her up and she seemed fine at this point.  She looked at my face intently and said,"Hi, mom.  Kiss?"

How can I stay upset when I am faced with that?  Will you please tell me? 

I can make whatever plan I want to make, and I can get so irritated that it doesn't go the way I was hoping that it would, but if what I'm supposed to do is hold my baby girl (yes, yes, I know she is technically not a baby anymore, thank you for informing me of that, accuracy police) and give her a little snuggle before she settles back down to sleep peacefully for a while, then I can do nothing except just that, and gladly, in the end.

I'm so sorry to have just made you read through one of the longest and twisty sentences in the history of the world (or my blog).

It also afforded me the time to sit and read in a book that I started a while ago, as well as in my B-I-B-L-E.  I sat with her while she went back to sleep, and had a moment to get quiet myself.  It had been a while.

So, here's to a sweet snuggle earlier than usual and a good read.  Perspective shifted, and to all a good night.

See It, Say It, Do It

You know how you can start not to see things the way they really are?  Oh, you see them with your bodily eyes, but after looking at something for long enough without taking any action you begin not to see it. 

I have been looking at, complaining about, and ignoring the mess the disorder the chaos in our home for quite a while now.  I would love to say that it's just since we moved, but that wouldn't be true.  The fact is that it's been that way for a long time.  I also would love to say that this chaos just happened to me.  I am an innocent bystander!  I was waylaid!  I'm a victim!

A victim of what?!  Has some thug come along and tied my hands and feet together and put me in front of a speeding train?  Am I powerless to do anything around here?  Honestly, sometimes it feels like that.  I can feel so overwhelmed by all that needs to be done that I give up before I start doing anything. 

Having my friends here recently and having my parents here right now have been enlightening experiences...I have been looking around at our house through different eyes, someone else's eyes.  What do people see when they come in the front door?  Clean laundry waiting to be put away. (Not your normal amount, but more like a criminal amount.  I'm not sure what that means, but it sounds serious, doesn't it?)  Toys scattered all over the floor.  Books in piles EVERYWHERE.  Socks at the bottom of the stairs.  Mail piled up on the bookshelf.  An ironing board, for crying out loud.  It's getting worse by the day!

I feel like I'm this pot of water that won't boil, but someone has just turned up the flame.  Now there's some major heat coming by way of total humiliation at (just the thought of) someone, say from church, stopping by.  I don't want to feel that way!  I want a home that I can be happy and content to invite someone into.  (I tried really hard to make that sentence more grammatically correct...but dangit, what I ended up writing is what I want to say.  So there.)  I've written about this before, and I always come to the same conclusion-this time, I'll do better!  I'll wake up tomorrow and there'll be a fresh start waiting for me!  In many ways I think that can be true.  School is getting ready to start.  I can use the time up until then, while my parents are here, at least to begin to get a handle on things.  It would be so much better for the kids to have an orderly home, to grow up in a home where things have a place and they get put there.  We all need to work together.  Oh, these habits are so hard to start when things have been so crazy for so long. 

What got me thinking about all this tonight goes back to my longing to declare,"This is not my fault!  It is out of my control!"  I know that's just not true.  I do have some control.  I have choices to make.  They are just not easy or fun.  I suppose I have to grow up.  (Imagine me stomping my foot right about now and whining,"But I don't want to!")  My kids need a grown-up parent.  My husband needs a grown-up wife. 

Pppptttthhhhbbbttt!

I have to get it out of my system, all right?

So, I have a mini-plan for tomorrow (you know how much I love a plan, yes?)...I will put the ironing board away.  I will put the clean laundry away.  I will ask the kids to help me put away the toys and books (and pray that Eliana doesn't come following behind us undoing all that we just did), arrange the furniture in its proper place, and throw away all the trash that is in the living room.  That will be a start. 

Now, my eyes hurt from all this seeing, and my brain hurts from all this thinking and planning, so I've got to go to bed.  Plus I need to rest up for all the hard work we're going to do in the morning...starting with getting my feet on the floor and getting breakfast for the kids.

Growing Pains

My children are growing up so quickly.  Long ago I laid Eliana down on this changing pad and her body took up half of it when I changed her tiny newborn diapers.  Now it is a recliner.  Not only that, but my first baby that we brought home from the hospital just yesterday is now big enough to make a changing pad into a recliner, strap her baby little sister in it, and read to her.  How are these things possible? 

I have been going through clothes in an effort to get rid of stuff we don't need (and give it away to folks who can use it); I had piles of Eliana's baby clothes on our bed.  Things like this...

That is so small.

My mom and dad gave this to me before Eliana was born.  We lost two babies before she came along.  The story of her beginnings is one for another post, maybe...it's a miracle.  And she was totally worth the wait.  And the weight.  (Mom, I'm keeping this one.)

This used to be so big on her!  She'll always be the little sister though, no matter how old she is.

This is also a keeper...she came home wearing this.

She might be able to get her left leg in there now. These are the things I'm keeping, but I have two garbage bags full of clothes to give away.  There are other little girls who need sweet, teeny, pink outfits with bunnies and fruit and stripes this summer.  The only thing Eliana needs this summer, really, is her bathing suit.  She has been obsessed with her swimsuits for a while now.  She wants to live at the pool.

Let's try this again...

When all else fails, get creative...make it a purse...

She learns so much from Michaela and Christian...she always wants to do whatever they are doing.  They got into the Legos the other day; I said,"Show me what you're doing."

So she showed me...

Sandwiched in between these two girls we find Christian.  He, too, refuses to heed my instructions.  "Stop getting bigger!" I say; I shake my finger at them, but no matter how stern I am they keep on growing.  One of his favorite things to do is read to Eliana before she goes to sleep.  This works out well, because one of her favorite things to do is sit next to Christian in her bed and listen to him read.

I just sighed because the kid who used to be my baby is now reading to another kid who used to be my baby.  Next thing you know she's going to be reading!  Will this madness never end?  And no, to the funny jokester who is amending my sentence to read,"She's going to be reading to the new baby!"  I'm done having babies who insist on growing up...it's too hard. 

I have these thoughts, these "How can my little ones be so big?" thoughts, and I know my mom must think the same things about me.  "How can my baby girl have these three kids?!"  I know she loves being a grandma, but it's got to be weird.  An older generation watches a younger generation, teaches them, raises them.  This is life.  It is bittersweet.  Mothering is filled with heartache, a longing for those treasured moments snuggling with a newborn or watching older siblings with the new babies.  But it is filled with so much joy.  I'm happy to find that things often come full circle...

The onesies she wore when she first came home from the hospital don't fit anymore, but they still bring a smile to my face.

I'm a Poet, Not a Planner-Herein Lies the Evidence

My sister-in-law asked me tonight how last night went...she wanted to know if I accomplished what I had planned.  The truth is I did something that was much more important.  

I've written about how I feel about making plans.  It's not my favorite thing to do.  I really rebel against schedules (I took a family a meal this afternoon even though I didn't sign up on the online calendar to do it and someone was already bringing them a meal for tonight-mine was frozen, homemade, but I didn't want to sign up on the calendar and feel locked in, committed!)  And usually if I do make a plan and things don't go how I thought they would for some reason I get frustrated.  Or even mad.

Yesterday I made a commitment to stay off of the computer in the evening so that I could work on a few areas in the house that have gotten a wee bit out of control.  The desk where our computer is would be one of those areas...did you know that if you leave your papers alone for long enough they begin to multiply?  Yes, they are very naughty.

I did not get around to cleaning the desk last night, nor did I put away or even fold the laundry, but God knew that I would need the time to connect with someone who is important, someone I needed to talk to.  He had a plan that trumped mine, but used my plan at the same time.  I'm so grateful that He is in control, that I can rest in His grace, and that one day my plans will line up perfectly with His and I'll no longer be a rebellious child.  I'll always be His child though.  What blessings are mine!  

I'll take one day at a time, and one mess at a time.  I'll take comfort in knowing that my heavenly Father loves me even though I have a hard time keeping house.  I'll try to be cheerful rather than weighed down by my own feelings of failure. It's so easy to recognize how important the relationships in my life are when it's late at night, quiet, and peaceful, when I can reflect and focus on the sweet moments of the day rather than the unpleasant ones.  It probably seems like I'm writing haphazardly...in some ways that's true.  A bit of stream-of-consciousness. 

It started with a plan.  But the plan didn't stand.  Still it didn't hit the fan.  I'll tell you what, man.  You just do what you can.  Love on your clan.  Clean up your van.  And keep makin' plans.

What can I say?  I live to rhyme.  I do it all the time.

All right, all right, now I'll say good night. Sorry, sorry.  I'll stop. 

Really I will. Do you love me still?

Foul Ball-It Doesn't Stink in the End

Today Mike and I sat on the sidelines of one of the saddest, most embarrassing softball games we had ever seen.  Michaela's team played this morning, and the first thing I want to say is that she is on a team full of girls who have been encouraging, kind, and friendly from the start of the season.  You see, she is an outsider.  All of the other girls know each other from school; not only do they go to school together but they have played ball together for several years.  She was on this same team last year, but from one spring to another I'm not sure that they remembered her.  A lot happens over the summer and during a school year.  As a mom (especially one who struggles to make friends with women who are already in well-established circles of friendships) it has been touching to see her teammates treat Michaela as one of the girls.  Michaela is not a strong player, but they (and the other parents) cheer her on, yelling,"You can do it!" from the side.  One of the girls was on second base today when Michaela went up to bat and as she waited for her final pitch this teammate hollered,"Go, Michaela!"  I almost cried.

These girls are decent softball players.  A lot of the time they get a hit, and often they make it to the next base.  They've scored plenty of runs.  They've both won and lost games this season.  The fact that they lost their first of two games today is not what was embarrassing.  What was so shameful was the way the other team's coaches were directing those girls.  They were unabashedly teaching them to take advantage not only of someone else's weakness (as in the case of overthrowing the ball-it's pretty standard to take one base when the team on the field misses a catch and has to run to get it and then throw it to the pitcher...this team sent their girls home time and again, even if the ball was on its way to the pitcher and even if the runner had already taken second and/or third), but they were also teaching them to take advantage of mistakes made in their favor (like when one of our girls made it to second, at the same time the second baseman-girl, whatever- caught the ball but stood just short of the base...the referee signaled our girl out, and when two of our coaches asked about it the ref maintained his call, amidst a collective,"What?!" and groan from our team's parents; it would have been clear to the other coaches had they been watching the game, and to the girl who caught the ball but was not on base, that a mistake had been made, yet no one said anything...our coaches did not get into an argument about the call, but let it go).  These things were so sad to see.  Mike said later,"They're not playing softball, they're just taking advantage of people."

The heartening thing about the situation lies in the response of Michaela's team.  They didn't complain.  I won't lie and say that no comments were made by the parents to one another (once our girls were on the field again, one dad yelled out,"Just stand close to second!"-I don't know if anyone else heard him but one other dad and me...and darnit, I laughed), or among the coaches and dads.  But it was lighthearted, a what-are-you-going-to-do-but-let-it-go kind of attitude.  The girl who was called out, even though the folks at the pool next to the field could see that she was safe, came off of the field easily, even with a smile.  Her mom came over just after and she turned to talk to her; I didn't hear their whole conversation, but understood her look to say,"Did you see what happened?!"  I heard her mom say that everyone saw it, but that these things happen, that she did a good job, and everything was okay.  When the coach questioned the call and the ref signaled "out" again, he lowered his head and spread his arms with his hands palms-down as if to say,"You got it; you make the call."  He told the girls after the game that yes, there had been some tough breaks, but they did well, and he encouraged them as they looked forward to their next game later in the afternoon.

You know what?  They won that second game.  I was at home with Eliana for her nap, and I wish I could have been there.  I bet they worked hard and played fair, and their reward was a win.  I don't really care about winning and losing so much; mainly I want Michaela to have fun with other little girls.  But I want her to learn about good sportsmanship, teamwork, and honesty.  I'm grateful that she is on a team that works to instill these things in the players.  As the end of the season nears, I'm making a call myself...whether they are dashing to first or running down the line headed home, I think these girls are SAFE!