Sunshine and Chocolate

Do you ever feel like it's hard?  Like the day at hand is just...hard?  I keep thinking of that song Walking on Sunshine, and how I'm not walking on sunshine.  I think of people like the Pioneer Woman, who keeps a blog about her life out in the country, and she never really complains about things.  Sure, she "whines" about her hubby getting her up at 4:30 in the morning to go work the cattle, but I can tell she's not really complaining.  Don't get me wrong, I love reading her site (I'm addicted, in fact) and she's a wonderful story-teller, but can her life really be all sunshine and chocolate cake?  It's just not like that here.  Well, the chocolate cake part, yes, but the sunshine part, not so much.

Today has been the kind of day that just feels like it's pushing you down from the get-go.  I hurried Christian to school just on time because everyone woke up late this morning (oops, I didn't set an alarm for myself).  I found out school was closing early because of some bad weather that was coming.  I raced to two grocery stores with my girls in order to get bread and stuff for Christian's birthday (which is tomorrow!) all the while thinking about how we had not been able to make a great birthday party plan for him this year-and feeling bad about it.  Once home, I threw the cold stuff into the kitchen and breathlessly asked Mike to put it away so I could run over and pick up Christian.  I'm super paranoid about the icky-sickies that seem to be going around the school, and worried about the household becoming a vomit factory.  We did lunch, which went smoothly, and then I could not get Eliana to go to sleep for her afternoon nap.  The child refused to sleep.  R-E-F-U-S-E-D.  I finally left her in her bed (I was in there with her, because she has been going to sleep in her bed lately, while I stand there quietly and it wasn't taking very long, so I thought we were on to something new) and she was howling.  I could only stand that for about 15 minutes, because she definitely wasn't toning it down.  So, I went in and got her, and put her in the high chair with some yogurt...maybe she was too hungry to go to sleep?  She was sitting there with Michaela in the dining room, and I went to unload and reload the dishwasher in anticipation of dinnertime.  I discovered this when I returned a moment later to the dining room...

She finally gave in...the poor girl had her head down on her tray with one hand in her yogurt; some of her bangs were in there too.  It was sad and funny all at the same time.  I cleaned her up gently and leaned her seat back and she slept for about an hour.  This was actually one of the most pleasant parts of the day.  Maybe I should reflect on that a little bit. 

Christian was busy with a Lego project and Michaela was reading on the couch.  I looked at some emails, finished a couple of things in the kitchen, sat with Christian a minute.  He wanted a snack, so I got him cheese and crackers.  All of these things were so peaceful.  That was nice, now that I think about it.  On this very gray, dismal, cold, true winter day, there was a little sunshine. 

Things really were fine for the rest of the afternoon, as we headed toward the dinner hour (or two).  The (big) kids played together in our schoolroom/playroom, and worked on thank you notes, and were sweet and silly with Eliana.  Christian had a couple of moments grouching about having to write.  I just let him be for a while.  Then he brought me this...

Is it getting warm in here, or is it just me?  I think I need to go get my sunglasses...

Bedtime was a little trying.  Eliana again refused to go in her bed (which, at night, she has been doing beautifully for a LONG time now-so this was very weird).  I was attempting to be compassionate, thinking something might be up-teeth coming in, new separation anxiety phase, having to poop.  Yep, that's the one.  She pooped, at 9:00 p.m.  Very odd.  So, I got her out of her bed and changed her diaper and took her back to bed.  Meanwhile, the other two, shall we call them "Frick" and "Frack", were trying to avoid going to bed because of all manner of ailments.  Which actually happened to be real ones, although strange.  Finally, everyone was in bed and the house was quiet; the steady whir of the dishwasher, and the quiet tumbling of the dryer were music to my ears. 

I want to add a little bit here about my husband, as he is strangely missing from my synopsis of the day (oh, except for rescuing me in my getting-cold-groceries-put-away moment)...he is finishing up his dissertation.  Enough said, eh?

So, we all managed to survive this day that at first glance seemed so tough, and what with all this apparent sunshine I think I will enjoy some chocolate cake as I bask in it.  Actually, it's chocolate chip cheesepie, but that will do.  And from now on, you can just call me...

Check Yourself

Actually, check myself.  I've been having a bad attitude because things aren't "going my way."  I've been trying to put up a blog post for a couple of days, and I have not been successful, mainly due to technical difficulties (like, technically, I'm an idiot when it comes to the computer).  And my sweet husband has put in hours (it seems) trying to help me, and I just can't be helped this time.  The truth is, there are solutions to my problem, but they will take a looooooong time, longer than I want to take.  So, I must tell myself that I am making a choice here. 

I miss it though.  Silly, no?  I like sharing our mundanity (that ought to be a word).  I have no illusions about the impact this blog is having on the world.  My mom likes to read it a lot.  I like making her laugh with our antics.  I think it will be neat to look back on it one day, and have a record of some of the things we did and experienced as a family.  

I have been frustrated that I haven't been able to do what I've wanted to do for several days. 

But I'm sitting here looking at the Christmas tree, and it's so lovely.  The lights are very low, everyone else is asleep so it's very quiet.  And I'm thinking of what Christmas is, really, and my priorities are in need of an adjustment.

(squernk, squernk, squernk) (rhehnt, rhehnt, rhehnt) (tap, tap, tap) (swish, swish, swish)

Well, I wish it were that easy...a few turns of a loose screw, tighten the bolt, a little polish at the end and voilá!  The new and improved Christina!   Let's say it's a start...

A Mixed Bag

I have to be honest...tonight ended on a slightly sour note.  Things were going along just fine, and then all of a sudden, minutes before bedtime--KAPOW, BANG, KERPLUNK!  Something ugly got a hold of us, and I sent the kids to bed all in a hurry so that I could go start a load of laundry and shed a couple of tears and then be just fine.  (Sigh)

They are in the bedroom now, quietly talking, while I sit here thinking about my own struggles as I try to be a good example for them and fail each day at least one (hundred) time(s)...  and at the same time I am thinking about how for the last two weeks they have been listening non-stop to Christmas carols, reading about them in some very neat books we have about hymns, playing so nicely together (today, for hours), and cleaning up after themselves.  I love listening to them sing along with the carol CD.  It makes my heart swell when I hear their sweet voices sing things like,"While shepherds watched their flocks by night, all seated on the ground...The angel of the Lord came down, and glory shone around.  And glory shone around."  And if you could hear the lovely music in the background, the bagpipes and other instruments along with their voices, you would know why it affects me the way it does. 

So, there are these two sides, right?  The wonderful, grace-filled picture of the children (even Eliana will dance and move her arms so sweetly to the music) singing praises to our Lord.  The nasty, crazy ending to an otherwise very pleasant day which leaves a bad taste in my mouth and makes me want to eat a brownie to get rid of it.  This just leads me to affirm my belief that, indeed, I need a Savior, and praise the Lord, One has come. 

Advent...a season of preparing.  I'm going to go tell them that I love them.

Cleaning Up

I made a cake tonight (pumpkin spice, in honor of fall and its gloriousness); I placed my mixing bowl on the counter after I had put the batter into the dish and I thought to myself,"I need to rinse that out before it gets hard and really stuck on and takes forever to scrub off."  I started to think how it's so much easier to clean the batter out of the bowl before it has a chance to dry and practically become part of the bowl.  It just rinses right out, with almost no effort.  The times when I have just set it aside for later, because I'm in a hurry or because someone needs me for some reason or because I'm being lazy, the traces of batter that are left harden, and then require a little more strength to scrub out.  This made me think of my sin, those things I do that displease my heavenly Father.  Or dishonor him.  Or sadden him.  But if I realize quickly where I've gone wrong, or the mistake that I made, or even what I've not done that I ought, and tell him I'm sorry, his cleansing comes right away.  His forgiveness washes over me, taking away the raw, unwanted garbage.  But it is also true, for me, that if I don't "come clean" right away, then those things that I have done or not done hang on, and harden, and cling just like that batter.  They are stuck and feel like a part of me that will never go away.  Sometimes they are around for so long that a habit develops, or a mindset, or a perspective.  Miracle of miracles, there can always be cleansing.  But it can seem like it takes a little longer to get rid of the mess, it's harder to scrub out, and clings more stubbornly making it harder to remove.  Looking at that messy bowl just reminded me that "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."  (1 John 1:9)  "Batter" to confess sooner rather than later, don't you think?  God is so good.

A Heart

I'm having "one of those days."  You know, the kind where everything and everyone irritates you, you are sad for no apparent reason, and you feel like Emmy Lou Harris is singing your life story?  I can always blame it on some hormone (isn't that a wonderful thing about womanhood), but who knows really.

Now that the kids are in bed and it's gotten quiet and I'm by myself (supposed to be cleaning up!) I'm reflecting on my day.  It seems like I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but the reality is that I ought to have had a great day.  Mike let me sleep in a little with Eliana while he took the two older kids out to breakfast before getting ready for Sunday School.  So we didn't get up until quite late (I will add we had a terrible night as far as sleeping goes...), and went to church and came home and I made a nice lunch.  It was a bickering day, though.  What causes a bickering day?  Is it a virus?  Is it something they ate?  Or didn't eat?  Was their underwear pinching them?  Should I have given them more hugs and kisses?  Ah, one of life's mysteries; we may never know the answer. 

At any rate, my own attitude today makes me think of another day many years ago.  That day just might be one of the worst days I've ever had.  I was supposed to make a birthday cake for a friend and needed my trusty recipe that I used frequently and knew exactly where it was.  Only it wasn't there!  I looked high and low for it, wasted a lot of time searching, and finally decided I would try to wing it and remember the ingredients and order the best I could.  I was frustrated with everyone in the apartment because no one was doing what I needed them to do (and they weren't reading my mind either, to know what I wanted them to do-I was being stubborn and not communicating with Mike in particular).  Christian was sitting on my feet in the kitchen and fussing while I tried to make up this cake recipe.  We also had to take a side dish to another couple's place for dinner before the birthday party.  I was EXTREMELY cranky about all of this.  And fuming inside. 

We went to dinner, and along the way things got worse.  Inside I was getting angrier and angrier, but not saying anything to anyone.  After dinner I dropped the kids off at the "party house" so I could get the cake, and my daughter peed on the bathroom floor.  I burst into tears.  My friend took me aside, I said,"I'm fine, I'm fine."  Went to get the cake, had a fun time at the party.  We got home and everyone went to bed.  I think even Mike was lying down with one of the kids. 

I decided that my day was so horrible that I wanted to read the Bible a little.  So I picked up my favorite version that we have and I opened it up, I was looking for a Psalm that I could read through.  I found my recipe.  Yes, that recipe, the one I needed 10 hours ago.  I heard a voice say,"Come to me..." as in Matthew 11:28 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."  I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. 

It was pretty clear at that point what area of my life I needed to surrender to the Lord...all of it.  Well, that was probably four years ago, and talk about a work in progress.  I think that today is a day kind of like that one.  I had nothing to offer because I had nothing to offer.  I actually did mean to write that sentence.  Since I have not been living a life of real devotion to God, where I'm thinking about Him in all things, praying and thanking and worshiping Him, offering Him my own life as a sacrifice, I had no resource for dealing with what I was encountering all day.  I know that the truth is when we give Him our own hearts, He fills them up with Himself, graciously and unselfishly, by His Spirit, through His word.   Whether it was a sleepless night with Eliana or a battle over a magazine between Christian and Michaela or a thankless lunch effort I wasn't prepared to deal with it wisely.  I suppose that when we aren't giving Him our all He will remind us of this just by allowing things to fall out as they will.  I long for order and only He can provide it.  Otherwise,  inside and out, it will be chaos.  I'll be getting some things straightened up tonight.  And one of those things will be my heart, that vessel that needs daily attention.  The "daily" part is of utmost importance...

P.S.  Thank you, Mike, for the things that you do to help me with the kids when I am so tired.  It means even more, because I know you're tired too.  Oh, for sleep one day...