The Back to School Gift To Give Yourself

I can feel it. Lazy mornings are down to a handful. Unstructured days are going extinct. The shaking ceilings and echoing voices in the house will be quieted next week- once again, the kids are going back to school.

Last week, I found myself going from content at the fun we've had this summer to miserable. In tears. Unmotivated. Why? Well, I remembered all the stuff I intended to do to, with, and for the kids once school got out. I remembered the first day of vacation thinking that the next 10 weeks or so were my oyster. I had seemingly all the time in the world to beef the kids up on their math skills, reading skills, and people skills. I envisioned them being more prepared than boy (or girl) scouts at a Camporee to take on the school year with unwavering confidence. I was already patting myself on the back for coming up with such lofty goals. And then summer came.

The challenge of screen time reared its ugly head. I was caught up in having a few moments to myself to get stuff done in peace, and time escaped. I would print out  the math worksheets or flash cards and would be met with groans, weeping, wailing and the gnashing of teeth. I would get library books and although the older kids loved the series they began, the younger two either complained that the books I chose were too hard, or not hard enough. And when I wasn't up to doing adult, I became lazy. I tried. And tried. And tried. I realized that those goals I had were lofty, but if I tried to measure success in the acquisition of 4 perfectly cultured and educated robots, then I had failed. Epically.

What do you do as a Mom when you look back at this summer with regrets? What if the kids you thought you would have at summer's end don't quite look like the kids you have? Life is a mixed bag. Which means that even if you look back and see regrets, there are good things to see as well.

In my case, I look back and see the one on one's I've had with the kids. I got to really enjoy who they are growing up to be. There have been moments of robust laughter. When life felt like helium instead of lead. And we laughed till we cried. There were big victories relationally, like when I saw three of them weep at their brother being left behind from a camping trip because he had a high fever. Or when they self boycotted a video game because they noticed that they often fought when they played it. There were splashes in the ocean and toads caught in the creek. There was ice cream for dinner, and spontaneous jam sessions in the van. There was... Fun.

Can I shoot straight with you? I think that along with the Ticonderoga pencils and new shoes, there's a gift that you need to get yourself. It won't affect your bottom line, but it will affect how you feel when you hit rock bottom. Are you ready?

REMEMBER THE WINS.

Everyone has regrets. Everyone. We all have things we wish we could have done differently. But instead of beating yourself up for the things you did wrong, how about choosing to celebrate the things you did right? Most likely, there are people in your life who do just that. Your kids.

A few weeks ago, I was browsing Pinterest, and an article caught my eye. "10 Ways You Can Be a Better Mom". Before I could read it, my 12 year old snatched my phone away. "Hey! What did you do that for?" I declared. With his trademark singly raised eyebrow, and a calm demeanor, he said, "You don't need to read that. You're already a GREAT Mom." Children measure wins differently than we do. And maybe we would do well in following their paths.

And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise. Philippians 4:8 NLT

When regret's acidity sours the back of your throat, REMEMBER THE WINS. When comparison threatens to steal your joy, REMEMBER THE WINS. When time zooms by at a breakneck pace, REMEMBER THE WINS. When your sleep is robbed by watching your mistakes over and over, REMEMBER THE WINS. Remember all the fun you had with your kids this summer, and all the reasons they love that you're their Mom. They have no regrets; why should you?

Life Lessons From Lucy

About a year ago, we adopted a Boston Terrier named Lucy. She came as an answer to prayer- our kids' prayers. Steve and I were completely opposed to getting her, since Steve has been bitten over a dozen times , and we didn't think we could handle one more thing. Steve was surprised however to meet two Boston Terriers in his travels at work. And the surprise wasn't that he found them, it's that he liked them. He happened to tell me that if there was a slight chance of ever getting a dog that it would have to be a Boston. When he told me that, unbeknownst to us, one of our kids was eavesdropping on our conversation. It was as if he was just debriefed on the location of a weakness in our armor. He led the other kids in spontaneous prayer meetings every morning for almost a week, and by weeks' end, we had Lucy in our home.

It took us about 3 months to adjust to having her (and her to being with us), but after the summer was over, she was officially one of our own. Her daily rhythm slowly merged with ours, and she became as much of the kids' wake up routine as brushing their teeth is. No matter where I travel in our house, I can expect the pitter patter of 4 little paws to follow. She knows when I ask her, "Where's Daddy?" to bolt to the door , stand on her hind legs, and peer out the window to look for Steve. I never thought I would say this, but Lucy has taught me a lot over the past year. Here are the top 5 life lessons she's imparted to me:

#5- Push Screens Aside. I remember the first time that Lucy told me, "Madam, I could care less about your laptop" I thought it was a fluke. But she made it a point when she wanted attention to climb up on her hind legs, and paw at either my hand or the keyboard to let me know, "Get off the computer and hold me!" That is the remedy for a technology soaked era that we live in. We need to know when enough is enough and opt for face time as opposed to screen time. 

#4 - Pursue Play. There is one tell tale sign that Lucy wants to play, and I know Lucy well enough to be able to see it: the playful twinkle in her eyes. She stares at me forever without blinking. Then if I twitch suddenly, she moves into downward facing dog position. When I start chasing her, then she begins barking playfully and chasing me back. I can almost hear her saying, "Catch me if you can!"  Life is so heavy sometimes, isn't it? There is so much yuck to wade through. Being a human means big decisions to weigh, lots of unpleasant experiences to be had, and frustrations that seem to pop up with more regularity than Old Faithful. I'm so glad that there is laughter. I'm so grateful that there is levity to balance out the dead weight of hardships. Lucy teaches me that not only do I need to play, but that I need to pursue play. I must look for opportunities to let laughter chop up my breathing, and loosen my tense muscles.  I need to always keep an eye out for a good laugh.

#3- Rest Well. It's not uncommon to see Lucy sprawled out on her tummy and a fleece blanket with her legs unnaturally splayed behind her, or basking in that one patch of sunlight coming through the window. The girl can play hard, but she can rest at the drop of a hat. Sometimes I feel guilty when I rest, because what thing am I checking off on my to do list by resting? Nothing. However, there is a productivity in resting. There is a regrouping of resources, a healthy aerating of thoughts, and a building up of potential energy that will be used to burst into kinetic energy when my rest is through. By resting my mind, body, and spirit, I'm giving myself permission to work as a more nourished person in the future, as opposed to more depleted. 

#2- Love Hard. Why does this dog greet me after a 20 minute errand with the same enthusiasm that Greek war heroes received? Simple: she loves hard. Lucy has perfected what I call the "thigh-high-five", which is her way of saying hello. She stands on her hind legs, and whacks the daylights out of your legs with her front paws. If the dog could spew confetti from her ears, she totally would. But she also seems to know when someone needs extra TLC. After an injury, or during a sickness, Lucy has been known to offer her silent yet steady presence to the down and outer. I want to love like that; to be magnetized to the ones who needs extra care. 

#1- Prayer works, But Not Like I Think It Will. I mentioned at the outset that Lucy was an answer to our kids prayer. Little did I know though that someone else was praying for God to act: my husband. You see after all his horrible history with canines, Steve was sick of it. He hadn't enjoyed dogs for most of his life, and with good reason. For him, dogs were a reason to be on guard. I think he really wanted to like them, but they didn't give him any reason to. So he prayed that God would intervene. It wasn't until 3 months after we acquired Lucy that it hit me- since we'd gotten her, Steve hadn't been bitten ONCE. It could be that now that he had a dog that he was more comfortable. Or maybe it was the fact that her scent was on his clothing, so it warded off any possible attacks. Whatever the reason, God chose to answer Steve's request to not be bitten anymore by giving him a dog. The only way I can reconcile this, is to file it under the "God works in mysterious ways" folder. Looking ahead, there have been and will be more times in the future when God answers my prayers in ways I would not have expected, or even chosen. His ways and vantage point are higher than mine. He can see the future. He knows what needs to happen for Him to be honored in my life. And I'll always stand in awe of how He was able to answer the prayers of my children and my husband (although completely different angles) with one flat nosed puppy loaf.

What have your pets taught you? :)

Seeking Thanks in the Shadows

 

I looked around the bathroom at the gleaming mirror, spotless sink, and sparkling toilet. Satisfaction filled my heart as I thought, "This bathroom looks GREAT. Glad that's over with!" Subconsciously though,  I was setting a thank-trap. In my mind, someone would notice the improvement to our half bath, and say, "Thank you for cleaning the bathroom, Mom!" I should have known that's not how it would play out.

One of our kids walked in the bathroom and said, "This bathroom SMELLS like chemicals." "What?!" I retorted in disbelief. "But...(stammering)....didn't you notice how clean it is now?" They shook their head in disagreement. "No- I didn't notice that, I just noticed how much it smells like chemicals." My eyebrows froze at the top of my forehead as if I had overdosed on Botox. I. Can't. Even. Believe. 

Ah, the mirror of children. If anyone will show me just how selfish I am and just how much I need a Savior, it's the four Martins under my roof. Unwittingly, they've taught me infinitely as much as I've taught them. And that day, the picture I saw of myself in that streak free, Windex-ed mirror, was one that I've seen before. Instead of a no strings attached act of genuine love and kindness, my unnoticed upgrade had a taut string attached to it that led straight to my ego. Ouch.

Someone told me once that being a Mom is a thankless job. And in almost 12 years of being a Mom,  I've learned that she is partially right. There are parts of motherhood that I do as a sacrifice and a privilege, no questions asked. Then there are other times that I hope, just a smidge, that someone will notice me. That someone will catch me in the act and applaud. Yet sometimes it feels like I'm alone on an empty stage with no one in the audience. Just being real. Only now, I've come to learn that my job isn't thankless. There's always someone applauding faintly in the shadows. God.

The verse in Colossians that I've been zeroing in on since the first time someone rejected my cooking is this one:

  

 "Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people." 3:23

This verse has been the pillow that's broken my fall on more than one occasion. It's a two way street that leads to life in both directions. There's one road that encourages me to be excellent in all my work, because in the end, I'm not really doing it for people's approval, I'm doing it as worship to God. But oh, then there's the sweet road that leads another way. If in fact I never get thanks from people, I still win. Because in the end, it's not for them anyway!

That verse invites us all into a paradigm shift. Instead of chasing after the loud chords of praise from those we are positioned to serve, God shows us another way. He shows us that His long term, endless song of approval over us lasts longer than the one strum thanks we can get in this lifetime. That the pat on the back we settle for is eclipsed and overtaken by His loving and constant embrace of acceptance. How I want to default to the latter every single time. But I'm still in the process. Under construction. Not done. In His grace though, and I say this tongue in cheek, God is still giving me plenty of opportunities to practice. As He does you.

So the next time our hearts yearn for applause on a stage, may we be confident that God thanks us in the shadows. That even if no one else sees, He does. That even if the acts of service given aren't appreciated or even rejected outright, that He can see straight to your loving heart. 

Nothing is wasted. Not one ingredient, not one text or phone call, not one gift given, and not one toilet scrubbed.

He thanks you. For every moment that you give without expecting anything in return. For taking the heat when giving someone a cup of cold water. For every time you reached out and was pushed back. You are celebrated, noticed, and loved by the only one who matters. May His smile be the only reward we seek.

Of Bath Robes and Silly Putty

Embedded in the fibers of my bathrobe is SILLY PUTTY.

It was an ordinary day last week when I noticed it. I went to pick up my beautiful L.L. Bean light purple bathrobe that my husband got me last Christmas, when I noticed that interrupting the bright color was another color. A light beige gummy texture had adhered to the terry. That's when it hit me: someone had put Silly Putty on my bath robe. I felt the mercury rising in my frustration-o-meter. "This is one of the only nicer things I own, and now it has SILLY PUTTY on it?!?!" I channeled my inner Sherlock Holmes, and pieced together a plausible story that explained this minor tragedy. Janessa (my 6 year old) was probably playing with the sinister goo, and instead of putting it back safely in its egg shaped case, she left it to its own devices. The putty then decided to make extra friendly with my bath robe, and the rest as they say, is history.

My frustration peaked again yesterday when I discovered that my newly organized bedroom  had ended up in a state of minor disarray. My spaciously streamlined dresser was now covered in various art pieces by Janessa. The Monopoly card game that I had tossed in my bedroom's waste basket had been resurrected again, and placed in a pile on the floor. "I JUST cleaned this room!!!! What is this?!?!" Steve and I have joked around through the years that there's only one word for mysterious messes, broken belongings, and abolished agendas. Sabotage.

Being a Mom has been one of the most honored privileges that I am blessed to be part of. I used to dream of what my kids would look like, sound like, and grow up to be. And yet, being a Mom, sometimes I get trapped in discontentment in the here and now. Being a Mom has chiseled me into a learned Type A. I make plans, I write lists, I clean messes. Sometimes I get frustrated when the kids take my two steps forward and turn into one step backward. And then I remember lyrics to a song by Trace Adkins called, "You're Gonna Miss This":

You're gonna miss this
You're gonna want this back
You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're gonna miss this

Discontentment settles like an itch on the skin of my soul, and instantly I'm tempted to scratch it with wishing away. Wishing away the frustrations, the messes, the ages and the stages. The "Why can'ts" and the "Someday when's" connect with my current irritations, and I'm given the false hope that the future will be better in some way shape or form. But the truth is that even if today's troubles are over, tomorrow will have new ones. I'm past children in diapers, but teens dating are ahead of me. I'm done with teething, but wisdom teeth are yet to come. I may have navigated through training wheels, but I'm raising 4 future student drivers. Shocking, but true.

I look at my bath robe in a new light. The stubborn substance enmeshed into those thirsty threads was placed there by the dainty fingers of a little girl who is absolutely priceless. A girl who uses those hands to draw me pictures of Mommy and baby animals, because she treasures the mother daughter relationship so much. 

A girl who grows a little older every day. A girl who will one day be a teenager, who'll be a young woman. A girl who I will one day try to wish back, because I miss her so much. Though I won't be able to bring her back, but what I can do is celebrate today.

This is the day that the Lord has made.
    Let us rejoice and be glad today! Psalm 118:24

Today, she is 6 and lives at home. She goes to kindergarten half the day, and comes home to eat lunch with me. She is my mini me in a million different ways. She has a feisty sense of humor. Today, I will celebrate who she is. Today, I will celebrate where each of my kids is at. Today is a day not for wishing away, but for slow savoring. So slow that when today becomes 20 years ago, I'll still have the taste of these fleeting days on my palate. I'll probably forget about the bath robe with Silly Putty. However the Janessa of today, I'm going to miss her. Let's look at the temporal in the light of the eternal. Let's overlook today's pebbles in the light of life's big milestones. After all, today's "sabotages" are tomorrows sweetest memories.

5 Ways To Rescue Your Snow Day

The kids were running around the house like a wild lion was chasing them. Their screams pierced every bit of quiet I had in the house, and popped every ounce of sanity I had like two hands and bubble wrap. At 10am, the house was a wreck, and the beautiful Scrabble art piece that my mother in law painstakingly put together (she put all of our names on there in Scrabble tiles, plus "faith", "family", "God" and "love". My favorite Christmas present ever!) needed to be repaired. In one of the kids' haste to see the snow falling, they stood on the couch and accidentally knocked it over (thankfully I was able to fix it. Phew!). I had two Mom-yelling outbursts that I had to apologize for, and my built in "distracter and redirector" was fried from overuse. This day, and this Momma needed rescuing. 

Ever been there? What do you do on a snow day when you don't know what to do? How do you transform cabin fever into can-do strategies? I don't know. **record scratch** Sorry, I have to admit right up front that I don't have this Mommy-ing thing all together. However, here are a few things that I tried today that helped, and hopefully, they'll help you too.

1-CHECK YOUR DASH.

How are you, Mom? No really, how are you? Are you dehydrated and malnourished? Are you sleep deprived? Do you need some fresh air? Think of all the questions you would ask your child if you were trying to figure out how you could help them, and ask them of yourself. Do you need a minute alone to pray, or catch a quick verse? Even if you can't do all these things, you can do ONE. Start there. 

2-CHANGE GEARS.

There is nothing more refreshing than doing the same old same old, then all of a sudden doing something completely different. For example, I started to feel super agitated, so I did something else. I asked Wes (my 11 year old) to come outside with me and help shovel the walkway and clean off the cars. The fresh air did us both good, we had a bonding experience, and the crazy cross winds that took our breath away helped him appreciate the importance of this tedious winter chore.

3- CALL A LIFE-LINE.

If you are inside with the kids all day, a touch from the "outside world" helps. That day, it came in the form of my dear husband sending me a text (which is my fave!) But maybe for you it might be a friend that you can skype for 10 minutes, a parent/family member to catch up with. It might just be social scratch to your itch that is the ticket.

4- CREATE MEMORIES.

I seriously just wanted time alone that day- just a chance to breathe. But I knew that this snow day doesn't happen every day, and that they won't stay little forever. So when the wrestling went too far and I wanted to teleport to a white sand resort, I called the kids up for a game of Apples to Apples Jr. Just putting my kids in a new context where the focus was the game and not on behaviors helped me to enjoy them- not in a forced smile with gritted teeth kind of way, but really enjoy them. For example, the green card I drew was "squishy". One of my kids submitted a red card with the word "football" on it. It was a nice nod to the whole "Deflategate" scandal, and it had me rolling. Laughter is good, Mom. VERY good.

5- CLEAR SOME SPACE AND CONJURE UP BEAUTY.

Although part of the internal chaos I had going on had something to do with the freight train of energetic children stampeding through our house, part of it had to do with the fact that everywhere I looked, things were in disarray. The table was cluttered. The sink full of dishes. The shoes haphazardly strewn about. But I noticed the candle in my kitchen and the candle on my table. I began to think how nice it would be to see the soft flickering light of the candles and the soothing scent wafting through the air. I decided that I'd go around and do a bit of straightening up (not spring cleaning mind you, but enough to bring some "AH" back), and that turning on the candles would be my reward. Wouldn't you know, when things looked better around the Martin house, and the candles were lit, Momma got some of her "AH" back. Is there a space you can clear so you don't feel claustrophobic? How about rearranging some things to spice things up? The world is your oyster, Momma! What beauty can you bring to your four walls? Even just improving a small corner will do a world of good. If what makes you smile is putting fake flowers in a vase to remind you of the hope of springtime, do that. :)

So there you have it, 5 things I tried that helped rescue my snow day. What about you? What helps rescue your snow day? Comment below the blog or the Tea With A Slice of Life facebook page and let's swap ideas! :)