Too pooped to party-encouraging all those tired mommas!

Okay, anyone else ever feel like the Tasmanian Devil? Yet, when the spit noises and twirling fast like a mad woman are over, you feel dizzy and too pooped to party? My heart is full of a serving attitude and deep in me-this calling to lead, to sacrifice, to use my artistic gifts is a twisting tornado that begs to leave a loving imprint behind, but this momma needs to rest.

As much as I would love to convince you that I am Wonder Woman, I don't think you would buy it!
     There are just times in life when you really can't stop. You have said no to all you can, but little ones can't be neglected or feed themselves. Injured hubbies can't do the work. Laundry eventually has to be washed AND two birthdays of two precious sons beg to be celebrated.

Ever wonder how we do it? Where the energy or strength comes from?  It HAS to be the Lord. We must rely on him all times so we can do more than survive life...where we surf our Lord's "Energy and Love Wave as he guides us to his shore of rest.

Let us memorize the verse below and recite it each day!

 "O LORD, be gracious to us; we long for you. Be our strength every morning, our salvation in time of distress." -Isaiah 33:2

A Wordless Wednesday: He decided to get into the picture

Arrrrrrr!

31 Days to Grace (Day 7): "Schafer"isms

I'm cold. I'm tired. So instead of wallowing in that, I will turn up the house heater or put on a jacket and I will blog about one of my favorite subjects: my comical four year old. 

You are wondering what this has to do with grace? Well, this is grace to me when I feel like a failure as a mom. When I think I am not making an impact. Or When life beats me down...my own child shows me grace and gives me laughter. What a gift...

Let me introduce you to "Schafer"-isms...

These are the funny statements and thoughts from one little person in my life. 

Here are a few of my all time favorites:

"I think the Hulk is green because he ate a lot of pickles."

"I believe in Jesus. He can take me to heaven when he feels like it."

"I am not a mean guy because I don't have a mean suit like the Penguin or Catwoman."

My clever, fun son, Schafer!

"Really, I am sad because I don't have a mustache." (I don't tell him how I will never be sad to not have a mustache).

Sung to the tune of the french song, Frere Jacques (in English, Friar John)  

"Where is Jesus? Where is Jesus? In the air. In the air."

Another kind of oops song and a bit odd is the Farmer and the Dell:

"The farmer takes a life, the farmer takes a life (Supposed to be wife. I know, creepy, but he didn't know what he was saying)."

"You are the best mom I've never seen."  Really...never seen?

Wanting to understand the name of the restaurant, IHOP...out of confusion he said, "Why do you hop?" 

"Look at those big rocks (boulders)! Someone must've hammered them tight so they wouldn't fall."

A Christmas song...cute and um, a messed up version below:

"Deck the halls with boughs of miserable." (I honestly had nothing to do with that).

 

 "In January, I turned into a baby." -As opposed to being born...hehe.

"If you are pretty and smell good mom, then I will marry you."

Some are really hard questions to answer:

 "How come Jesus doesn't make mistakes?"

"Does everyone have God in their hearts?" 

"Where was I before I was born?"

AND my two personal favorites:

"Mom, you are a pretty princess."

"Dear Jesus, I don't want to die to go to heaven so could you please find another way?" 

Do you have any fun quotes from kids you have overheard? Please share!

Trapped in Parent Land

Parent Land: (Noun) 1.When Someone whom is a parent gets caught up in thinking that their young children daily plot new ways to offend them. 2. Someone caught up in perpetual parent guilt. 3. A place where parents meet to hopefully find camaraderie and to show battle scars.

This is where I am at. Trapped in reruns. I often don't enjoy reruns of some shows. And honestly, who in the world wants to watch mine? Not I, thank you very much.

I seriously find my self offended by and sensitive with my children. Daily I am experiencing a feeling that they really don't like me, enjoy dissing and not listening to me. In one word: I feel disrespected by my children. They are only 2 and 4.  Really?

DON'T you dare say it to impose some self-righteousness, "Welcome to parenting." 

Instead, I am writing this to share my struggle. To voice out what I am feeling in hopes to understand and (see #3 in the definition of Parent Land).

I have always been labeled a sensitive person. I like to call myself compassionate and conscientious if you don't mind.  So I possess a very uncanny sense of the motivation of others, but this is usually better executed with older children and adults. This can be a curse as I find myself questioning people more than I probably ever should. I do this with my children. Yes, sometimes it bores itself out of my insecurities. Out of my need for approval.

But, what if I am wrong? I am wrong at times. What if my children are just well, being children? Here comes the parent guilt! See, I am feeling like my children and I are butting heads more than I want. That I fail more at parenting then succeed. I am afraid they will grow up carrying my baggage or have the issues I still face as an adult. 

I want to protect them. 

Protect them from me...from my sins. I want them to see this woman after God's own heart and not think, hypocrite.

To understand  and clearly see my faith, my love for the Lord...how much I CANNOT and REFUSE to do life without the Lord. He is my hero...my Savior.

YET...I will never do it perfectly. What if I have already crossed the line? What if the yelling, impatience or harshness has already ruined things? What if the hugs, kisses, pats on the back, loving discipline, saying, "I am sorry for..." and open heart and arms is not enough?

What then? 

God steps in and tells my heart, "I've got this, so hand it over."

      AND...

I am reminded, "...The world and all its people belong to Him." Psalm 24:1 

Alright, your turn. Share your battle scars with me...


Linking up with: http://www.findingheaventoday.com/ 
 

The difference between 28 and 38

There is so much I don't do, um or can't do now that I am 38.
Sometimes I miss the 28 me with no kids, uninterrupted time, conversations whenever, wherever, and the I can leave and go any place on a dime (no worrying about naps, snacks, diapers or if there is a decent restroom nearby)!

PAUSE - deep breath as I ponder the quiet days...

28 me...

 Okay, but who am I kidding? Living in the past is well, so unproductive. Yet, sometimes to move forward in life we have to make peace with that was then and this is now.  So here are the differences between 28 and 38 me. Sort of SPOILER: 38 ain't all bad, I promise!

28: My hubby and I are so in love. I think about him constantly. Can't wait til' he gets home so we can snuggle.
38: I love my husband. I am lucky to have him. I hope he helps me with the boys when he gets home because I could use a break.

28: I always have privacy in the bathroom.
38: My new bathroom theme song?: "I always feel like somebody's watching me."

28: I am more of an admirer of God than a devoted follower. How dare He interfere in my life.
38: I can't do life without you EVER God. Jesus, interfere in my life because you know best and I will mess it up plenty if you don't divinely intervene! Like STAT.

28: I have money to buy things for myself. A lot of life is about me.
38: Do we have money to buy the boys clothes? Chris (hubby), please let me buy you some new under-shirts the holes are really showing now.

28: Sleeping in until 9 am on a Saturday rocks. Wonder what hubby and I will do today?
38: 7:00 am: Hubby and I are awakened by a blue-eyed, long eyelashes boy who says, "Can we play Hide and Seek in your bed?"

28: I am a first year art teacher with a Master's Degree in Education and I make good money when combined with hubby's income.
38: I taught for 9 years and no one REALLY cares how many degrees I have. I am in my second year as a stay-at-home mom and I am still confused on how I got here. Oh, wait, I agreed to obey God, Yeah, forgot about that...

28: I have to give my self time-outs, tell my self no, and "Dionne, if you touch that it will burn you." I feel guilty when I eat too much ice cream.
38: Now, I find my self dishing all of the above to little people that God is trusting me to parent well...and I have parent guilt ALL the time!  Ice cream is not something I feel guilty about any more.

28: Maybe if I am kinder, skinnier, prettier, smarter, make more money, have great style or I am more selfless, then, people will want to be my friend, like me and accept me.
38: To my 28 self, "That's a load of poop! Sorry, my dear, but most people could care less about those things. You only repel or piss them off more if you are better in any way then them.

28: I think I am wise. I talk to myself negatively...my mom is still alive and I take that for granted.
38:  I was so unwise at 28. I talk better to myself...I refuse to listen to the lies. I miss my mom and wish I could cry in her lap while she strokes my hair.

I really do like who I am better at 38 even if life can be more busy and complicated...and yes, my body, mind and face will never be as firm and sharp as it used to be, but it doesn't really matter in the scheme of things...

How I see me (Identity)

On Fridays over here a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.








How I see me right now...

I have been in this new town for a year. With you both. You trust me to be there every morning instead of going to work like I did in the first 3 years of your life...or 1 and a half for your brother. 

 I often ache for more adult conversation. More adult purpose. A girlfriend to confide in physically, but at least I have awesome hubby and two sweet precious boys.

I am big in their world. They are bigger in mine.

I can't, no refuse to imagine life without them. 

I often feel like such a failure at this parenting thing. But, then you two boys still hug me, kiss me, and say, "Mommy, play with me."

And I know how forgiven I am. 

You both use manners, smile at strangers, choose to share or kiss your brother's boo-boo.

And I know I am doing some things right.

I have been a mommy for four years. Four hard and beautiful years. I have changed. Motherhood has changed my identity and I love it. 

  

 

I used to be smart...

I used to be um, er,...what's that word? Cute? Perfect? Um,...no...sharp. Yeah, that's it. I think.

 I can't really remember when the phenomenon occurred. One day, perhaps after giving birth to two sons? I am no longer acute. The Grey matter is turning black. 

It seems like the human body is great at multitasking, but in its' attempts to create life, wires get crossed and the babe sucks the intelligent cells right out. (okay, I know that is a stretch).  I know God didn't really design it that way, but I have noticed an anomaly in my thinking, speech, and especially memory since pregnancy.

Okay, okay, yes I am past 35. So maybe middle age is the problem? A smidgen of senility instead?

Ya know it's bad when Post-it notes are your best friend. 

I'm a Little Teapot (My real story)

Sing with me now...

                                     I'm a little teapot, short and white

                                     Here is my temper, all in plain sight

                                     When I get all steamed up,

                                      Hear me shout

                                      Just listen, obey and don't you pout.

If you haven't guessed it...I wrote this because I was  having one of those days. Patience wearing thin. Tired of parroting. Is that even a word? Or did I mean tired of parenting? Nope, ya know "parroting" as in I. Said. It. More. Than. Once? Now I sound like a nag. Okay, I'll admit I am sometimes, but after awhile insanity begins to creep in after a reasonable request has been consistently ignored.

I don't like it when I am the teapot. Always blowing off my boiling frustrations at the ones I love the most. It seems my littlest boys are burned more than I care to admit. Yes, there are situations when I am justified in my anger, but not justified in the reaction. I need to respond rather than react. 

At the moment, I am torn. TRAPPED. Stuck between wanting to be content with being at home, but feeling a desire to go back to work. A place where I can feel productive and useful. (Don't judge). Maybe some of you stay-at-home moms are in your niche. You are right where God has placed you.

I don't feel that.

I don't regret having been home this year to get to know my kids. I didn't search for a job because I strongly believed that God made it abundantly clear that I was to stay home. At least for this year. Now, well I am not so sure. Many days it is not like I don't want to be my sons' mom it is that I am not sure I want to be the at-home, full-time caretaker. 

People say that being at home is the highest calling or the greatest job. I agree. However, I cringe a bit when I hear that because in my heart I don't feel that for my self. Yes, there is great purpose and value in loving your children, providing for them, and just being at home instead of having someone else raise them.

I have learned that raising your kids full-time IS a full-time job. And that is only part of the job. I respect my mother even more and have a greater understanding as well as respect for those who choose this path over a career.

But...I am not there. I didn't actually choose.  So why don't I just quit whining and get a job?

Because...what if there is more to my story? What if obeying and doing what I am doing is preparing me for something bigger than I comprehend or know right now?

What if ?

Party For Two

Two years. Really?
I get the privilege of raising two sons. Trading dolls for trains. I don't know if words can truly describe Grant. My brown-eyed cutie with the best dimple in town! His sweet grins and infectious laughter fills my life, my rooms daily. You are tender and silly. You came into the world differently than your big brother, but at least you came into the world! You have a quiet strength. I love that about you. You are a great hugger!

A party for two.

We celebrated Grant's 2nd birthday today. We let Big Brother share the day since their birthdays are so close.

I borrowed inspiration and ideas from two different blogs I found to create a unique cupcake decoration using a Thomas the Train theme. Tinalamong.blogspot.com and ibakecupcakes-sarahlyn.blogspot.com. Thomas, Edward, Dennis and Mavis are hauling some important cargo. Animals, fish, and the number 2 for Grant!

See pictures below:

You grabbed a cookie before a cupcake and that just makes me smile. The party was a success.

Grant, I am so glad to have you in my life. Daddy and I love you so much.

Happy Birthday Grant!

4 years to this day...

Seems like it was only yesterday that my firstborn son, Schafer was resting on my tummy. Brand new to the world. Such a gift that I couldn't wait to show off. I had to wait five days past my due date to meet him. I was so impatient.

My mind still smiles and my heart still beams with the memories of those first few weeks with him. He was so tiny. So fragile, but strong. Hubby and I were so sleep deprived. In a fog. We were so in love with this sweet little boy. Still are.
He used to cry more, smile while nursing, and sleep in the most peaceful way I have ever seen. He used to love kicking his legs for fun.

Oh, those big blue eyes with the longest eyelashes I have ever seen. He still has them only he is bigger. Now, he speaks in paragraphs. He brushes his own teeth. He tells jokes and prays precious thoughts to the Lord.



Am I raising him right? Will he be a man of God?
I am doing my best. I want him to be a person filled with mercy, compassion, love, respect for others, manners and a deep passion for the Lord.

I miss the days I could just hold him and he didn't wiggle to be free, but I like how friendly and kind he is now. How he can tell me what he needs and wants.

I am so lucky to celebrate this special day for such a special person.

Happy Birthday Schafer!

I'm Awake Now!

AWAKE ...Five minutes to write about this...


It is 7 am. I am still dog tired. I don't want to get up. I am coming out of the sleepy dream state and into a new day. Ughhh!

Tap, tap, tap. "Huh?" "Hi Mom!" "Oh, Bean (nickname for 4 yr. old boy), you scare me when you do that!"

"I'm awake now. Can I come in your bed with you?" "I don't have poopy in my diaper." (we are still working on nighttime potty training)

So he crawls in and lays on my hubbies' pillow. He faces me and pretends to sleep. He twitches, and I can feel his little body's heat. I pretend to sleep, but I can't help but peek to see that sweet face. I can't believe how lucky I am to have this little, sweet person in my life.

He decides he is done pretending to sleep and asks,"Can you scratch my back?"
I do, and I smile. I have to hug him. I don't want this precious moment to end. Before I know it, he will not do this one day. It will be weird for all of us then.

I don't want to get out of bed. He wants to play. I really don't want to be awake, but I am glad I didn't miss this memory I will treasure, keep in my heart forever.

Better than any alarm ever!