Long Time No Write

I know, it's been forever since I sat down to blog.  I've actually had quite a few funny posts in my head, but I just haven't had the time to put the pen to paper.  Unfortunately, there's been lots to blog about!

 

I could tell you about the golf outing I had with the men in my life (Dear husband, Father, and little brother).  I probably have enough from that day to start a new blog about my family's golf adventures, but somehow I feel that I would be breaking some unspoken "guy code" if I told you about how terrible we were.  Let's just say that we were a team in a church scramble and they actually used my ball more than once.  Based on that information, you probably won't be surprised to hear that we tied for last place.  But hey, we were one of the best dressed teams out there!

 

I could also tell you about my little boy's birthday party.  He turned 3.  I was all excited to plan a Polar Express party, but instead he wanted a Ranger's baseball party.  So, we had a family outing with the grandparents to the Ballpark to watch 4 innings of our Texas Rangers (hey, we had a 5 mo old with us!)  Then we had a snow cone outing and some Texas Ranger cake.  He was thrilled.  We were happy.  3'rd birthday was a success!

 

So many other things have happened in the last few weeks, that I'm kind of sad I haven't taken the time to record all of our excitement.  Fortunately, my lack of blogging can be attributed to the fact that we've decided to make a big life change: We're Moving! 

 

Actually, we're listing our house on the market this week and will the start the house hunt accordingly.  We originally thought this could be a summer-long process until the house behind us sold on Day 0 on the market!  There's no way to predict what will happen, but it is more likely than not that we will be making a big move across town shortly. 

 

I guess you'll have to stay tuned for more...

Covered by Grace

"There but for the grace of God..." John Bradford

Over the past few weeks in our small group at church, we've been discussing "our stories" about how we were saved.  It was wonderful to hear the story of the man who had problems in his family life and with alcohol but completely changed when he found Jesus.  And I got chills when a girl told about how God got her attention when he gave her a word in a dream one night and it just so happened to be what the preacher was talking about the next morning at church (and Malachi is a random topic!)  I can definitely say that hearing personal testimonies of other believers is a way to unite a group and bring them together.  How can you not get excited with your small group when you get to hear how God is at work in all of your lives?!

 

Last week, I shared my story.  I've always kind of dreaded sharing my story in the small group setting, because it doesn't seem earth-shatteringly exciting.  I wasn't radically transformed from a person with a reputation of moral filth and addiction into a hungry Bible-consuming Christian in such a way that it shocked all who knew me.  As a result, I guess I've never felt that my story could really have the same kind of 1-2 punch on somebody's soul like the people who shared the week before me. 

 

But I've come to realize that my story is special and sweet.  Interestingly, it is very similar to my Dad's story...

 

I was saved at the age of 4.  My mom shared the story of the lost lamb with me and explained that I was a sinner who needed Jesus in the same way that the lost lamb needed Jesus.  I believed in Jesus and confessed my sins.  I gave my life to Jesus.  And ever since that time, God has been teaching me and molding me into the person I am today.  As far as I'm aware, I was never a "problem child" and never had the desire to get into any major trouble or illegal activity.  My friends probably considered me to be somewhat of a self-righteous prude, but the truth of the matter was that I honestly didn't have a desire to do what it took to be "cool" among so many of my peers.  I really wanted to obey Jesus.

 

So that's my story.  I'm not an amazing and wonderful person who was just molded out of moral cloth.  Instead, I am blessed to have been covered by grace at an early age.  Just like John Bradford said of a group of prisoners years ago, " But for the grace of God, there goes [me]."  I've certainly had struggles and have been taught numerous lessons by my Creator over the years. But by His grace, I've been able to avoid some utterly destructive paths.

 

I know that my story isn't over yet. Sanctification by Grace is ongoing. God is leading me and will use me as He sees fit.  He's taught me that other people's opinions of my decisions are irrelevant as long as I'm doing what He's called me to do.  And right now, he has me where he wants me for a reason.

 

My prayer is that He has me at home with my children so that they too can be saved at an early age.  Wouldn't it be wonderful if they could be covered by grace so early and protected from worldly filth?  God's grace truly is precious.  And I'm so thankful that it covers me.

Raising a Beautiful Girl

"Your adornment must not be merely external--braiding the hair, and wearing gold jewelry, or putting on dresses; but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God." I Peter 3:3-4

I have a problem.  It's almost like an addiction.  I can't seem to go more than a few weeks before I have this overwhelming urge to find Baby G a new hair bow or headband.  You probably think I'm kidding, but I'm not.  I have baskets full of headbands, bows, and hats for my sweet girl.  And I have enough accessories in my collection that I could probably bling out every girl in the neighborhood.  I think my years as a boy mom has somehow influenced my desire to raise a girly girl.  And it's resulted in this monster who can't resist tulle, pearls, and anything lacy and pink!

 

The other night, my friend, Jenn was sharing about her experiences raising two teenage girls.  She explained that she and her husband felt it was important to emphasize inner beauty and to distinguish inward "beauty" from outward "fancy."  Thus, when her girls dress up and bling themselves out in pretty things, she always compliments them as being "fancy."  But when their character displays beauty, she compliments them as being "beautiful." Jenn's daughters are very pretty and always well dressed, so mom isn't advocating frumpiness.  She's just trying to distinguish beauty of character from magazine-type of beauty. 

 

I'll have to admit, as the mom of a baby girl, I'm relieved that I don't have to get into these deep discussions quite yet.  It had not once crossed my mind that as Baby G gets older, I'm going to have to deal with these issues.  And I'm going to have to make sure that Baby G doesn't think that Mommy only thinks she's beautiful when she's all done up.  I want her to understand that she's beautiful because of who she is and not how she looks.  (Although I do expect her to put herself together and be a good steward of the body that God has given her!)  Part of being a girl mom involves the duty to teach my daughter how to be beautiful both inside and out.  Talk about a high calling?!

 

Jenn's talk the othe night definitely gave me something to think about.  It's okay that I'm slightly obsessed with everything glittery from the toddler department (can you believe that in less than 5 months we've already outgrown the infant section?), but my little girl also needs to learn that there's so much more to being a girl than dressing like a princess.  Being a beautiful girl also involves having a spirit of meekness and modesty, having a submissive heart (vs. 5) and living without fear (vs. 6).  And raising a beautiful girl means teaching my Baby G how to have a beautiful heart.

Spring Fashions for the "Under 5 Posse"

It finally feels like spring outside.  I'm loving the weather.  I'm loving being able to take the kiddos outside.  And I'm loving the spring fashions--the kids' spring fashion!  Here are some pics of my favorite models...

 

And somehow they all managed to "kind-of" pose together...

 

 

What is Wrong With This Picture?

This is my sweet middle child (the one who painted the hallway in yesterday's post).  I helped him get dressed today.  But I forget to make sure he had shoes on when we left the house.  So, while at lunch with Dear Husband today, I realized that he was wearing one of his big brother's flip flops (the left one) on his right foot and that he was wearing one of his own church shoes on his left foot.  Needless to say, we got a few comments from some amused old ladies at the restaurant.

 

This incident reminded me of when I was in Jr. High and my friend's mom would sometimes pick me up from school. Since she had a bus load of her own biological children, I got to ride in the 15 passenger van with all the little kids.  It was fun to be around so many children.  And it was puzzling too.  I could never understand why their mother would allow them to dress themselves before piling in the van to pick us up.  Sometimes one of the little girls would be wearing a slip and black patent shoes.  Or one of the little boys would be in a costume and rain boots.  It always seemed strange to me that their mom never bothered to coordinate everyone before leaving the house.  But now I get it. 

 

Sometimes Mommy misses the details.  Yet, life goes on.

The Next Day

 

Last Thursday, Mommy got a day off.  Okay, technically I had the afternoon off. I didn't have the kids.  I didn't do any legal work.  And I didn't do any housework.  Instead, I took a stack of coupons with me and went shopping. Ironically, I ended my trip with a stop at Toys R Us.  But at least I was able to enjoy the tranquil experience of getting to shop and think at the same time.  And when I heard crashing glass at Home Goods, I was able to sigh in relief knowing that my posse was not the cause of the breaking glass.  Anyway, Thursday was a pleasant day. It wasn't until the next day that Mommy got a migraine...

Dear Husband and I have been talking about painting our 2nd bathroom and our laundry room.  So last Friday, I broke out the paint and decided to knock out the job.  Had it not been for what occurred during my project, I would have been finished quickly.  Unfortunately, this happened:

Apparently, my middle child lost his penny and decided it was in the paint bucket.  As a result, he put both hands in the bucket and did who-knows-what?!  We had paint all over the tile floor, walls, doors, hallway, and our cute little boy. 

 

You see these kind of scenes in the movies.  The kid spills paint and the next day it's all cleaned up.  But I can assure you, it takes awhile to clean, scrub, prime, repaint, and peel up this kind of mess.  So this is what I've been up to lately.  Cleaning up messes. 

 

But at least I got a day off.

Mommy Survived March Madness

 

March Madness has taken on a whole new meaning for me this year.  And this meaning has nothing to do with basketball.  Instead, the Madness is directly related to life with 3 kids. 

 

When we tell people that we have 3 children, we always (and I mean almost 100% of the time) hear the joke about the fact that we've transitioned from man-to-man defense to zone.  As a basketball fan, I'm not sure I agree with the analogy.  You see, in man-to-man and zone, the defense is still 5 on 5.  Zone is actually easier when everybody defends their zone.  But juggling 3 kids isn't easier.

 

Adding that 3rd child to one's well-balanced life is more like getting caught in the middle of a 3 on 1 fast break when you're the only defender in front of your basket.  Typically, for this poor defender to be effective AT ALL, he has to make a smart foul in order to prevent the other team from getting a basket.  This defender doesn't get the luxury of help or a strategic defense.  This defender just has to do the best he can with what he's got.

 

Now I know that you might be thinking that technically parenting 3 kids is a 2 on 3 ordeal.  After all, there are 2 parents in this game, right?  Well, yes, of course.  But the reality of the matter is that I spend most of my days caught in the 3 on 1 fast break.  My 6' 4" defender doesn't show up until the middle of the last quarter of our day.  He tends to be very effective and does show up during the most critical part of our day (and any basketball fan knows that those last few minutes of the game are by far the most important part of any game).   But, until Daddy gets home, Mommy is on her own doing her best to defend her basket.

 

I'd like to think that I'm getting better at this 3 on 1 Mommy business, but some days I'm not so sure. About a week ago, due to a doctor's appointment, my posse and I were out and about early.  I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to stop by a local clothing store, since 10 AM on a Wednesday morning is a pretty quiet shopping time.  But when we got into the store, all chaos broke loose.  The boys started fighting about who got to push a cart (did we really need 3 carts?).  A few minutes later, Baby G kicked off her shoe and started screaming.  Right about that time, Boy 2's shoe fell off and Boy 1 took off with their cart.  Boy 2 is now screaming.  So, I picked up the baby and told the boys to get a grip.  Within 5 minutes, I think they were having an actual fistfight in the middle of the men's department.  Exasperated, I decided to take my clothes up to the register so that I could get them out of the store as fast as possible.  As soon as I paid (with my screaming baby back in her seat), I heard wailing coming from my 2nd child.  He was screaming at the top of his lungs that I forgot to buy groceries that were in his cart.  This was rather perplexing, since the store we were at doesn't sell groceries and there was nothing in his cart. He just stood there and sobbed and his brother started acting all smug that little brother was upset.  Meanwhile, I just gritted my teeth and groaned as I came to the realization that this is life with 3 kids.  Such was my month of March.

 

Parenthood is a funny thing.  When 3 kids are involved, it's certainly not an easy ball game.  It can be a constant state of unpredictable madness.  You can have a month like March and not have any recollection of accomplishing anything during the month. At least as of April 1st, my house is in a semi-decent state, my kids are clean and dressed in weather appropriate clothing, and I'm not currently suffering from a migraine. I must have done something right.  I might not have won a championship, but I survived the month of March.

Plan B

My attempt at creating hummus cupcakes was kind of a bust.  Hummus just isn't pretty.  And my icing skills are bad.  I confess, I had to move on to plan B, a.k.a. "The Vertical Vegetable Tray."

I stole the idea from something I saw at a friend's wedding shower.  The hummus and ranch were actually added closer to the start of the baby shower.  (Thought it might be bad for the nurse to serve spoiled dip to the church ladies!)  The only downside to this set-up is that I had to hang out near the table to  keep up with the refills.

To replicate this, you can purchase the vases at Walmart or Hobby lobby.  Then choose your dips and pick the appropriate vegetables.  In the deep South where Ranch dressing is always a hit, I was impressed how much everyone enjoyed artichoke and spinach hummus.  And so glad I bought extra bags of cheese.  People actually like cheese cubes (who knew?).

His Heart Will Go On...

My oldest son's newest obsession is the Titanic.  Yes, the boat that hit an iceberg in the North Atlantic in 1912.  He can tell you all about the ship's smoke stacks, boiler rooms, size, and elevator.  And he has repeatedly told my husband that if our family had been on the ship, that Daddy wouldn't have been allowed on a life boat.  Morbidity aside, it's pretty funny to hear my 4 year old's version of one of the most famous ships in maritime history.  Of course, he always follows up his story with the assurance that new laws have been made since the shipwreck.  Now ships are required to carry enough lifeboats.  (I predict that this child has a future in risk management.)

These days, the boys are no longer bombing ships and reenacting Pearl Harbor.  Instead, they're pretending to be the captain of the Titanic.  It's pretty funny to hear the horror in their voices as they hit the iceberg and start taking on water.  And all of a sudden, they now want to sleep with their door shut so that they can keep the ship airtight and not let on extra water.  Don't you just love little boys?!

You can imagine the excitement that my son felt when our local Children's Museum hosted a Titanic exhibit.  He was so thrilled when Grandma told him that we could go to the museum to see the Titanic. Unfortunately, I forgot to clarify that the Titanic is still at the bottom of the North Atlantic (currently being consumed by metal-eating bacteria) and was not going to be available for us to see in person. He was a little bummed that we didn't get to see the real ship, but visiting the exhibit was still a hit. He really enjoyed the opportunity to touch a piece of the ship's hull.  Plus, the exhibit definitely gave him some more insight on how to "play Titanic" at home.

I can't wait to see what he chooses as his next historical obsession (the Alamo, Civil War, Paul Revere?).  And I can't wait to save the above picture to include in his senior photo album!!!

Hold Mommy's Hand

 

Sometimes the easiest way to get a point across to my boys is to be overly dramatic.  For example, at the museum last week, the people running an exhibit warned us not to touch the glass because an alarm would go off.  Upon hearing this, I feared that my boys might intentionally touch the glass just to hear the alarm.  So, Mommy told them that if they touched the glass, the police would have to come.  This threat seemed a little more serious to them.  And they behaved quite well, considering the exhibit was mostly artifacts and text.

I also tried using scare tactics recently to convince my boys that they must hold my hand when we cross the street.  I explained that a boy who lived near us was recently hit by a car and killed when he ran ahead of his mom's stroller and wasn't holding her hand (true story).  This story seemed to have the desired effect on my son.  He suddenly got serious, and he asked me what happened to the little boy.  So I repeated the story and said that the little boy died and is now in heaven.

Upon hearing this, my son perked up and got all excited. Suddenly I was flooded with questions like, "So he's with Jesus?" and "Do we get to live forever in heaven?" and "Isn't that little boy better off?" All of a sudden, it occurred to me that my plan had backfired.  Not only had my son missed my point that he needs to hold my hand so that he won't get hit by a car.  But my son was also teaching me a theology lesson.  What I had interpreted to be a sad event--Death--is actually something that believers should look to with joy and anticipation.  And my son, who apparently had a better grasp on this concept than I did, kept assuring me that the little boy in my story is actually much better off now that he's with Jesus.

Wow!  What kind of mother am I that I would make death seem like a scary thing?  And what kind of Christian am I if I'm not celebrating the joy in death?  It seems so backwards to celebrate death.  This world doesn't do that.  I've been raised with the understanding that people are supposed to go through a period of mourning and are supposed to get sympathy cards when death happens. I've grown accustomed to focusing on the loss of the person who died.

But my son is right! Death is actually a good thing for believers.  It means that our period on earth has ended.  It means that we get eternity in heaven. It means that we shouldn't sob and cry when other believers go home to be with Jesus.  We ought to be celebrating! On the other hand, death is something that every unbeliever should fear as it is the beginning of eternity in hell.  From this perspective, death is frightening.  

Death is a serious topic that should be had with my children in an honest manner. In future discussions with my children, I'm going to have to rethink my references to death and dying.  I've learned that I shouldn't attempt to use "dying" as a scare tactic to get my children to be safe.  In the future, I'll have to stick to stories of bodily injury, pain, and suffering.  I guess the advantage to having a Mommy who is a personal injury lawyer is that she has lots of stories about that!