Sleeping Like a Baby

I have never been the kind of mom to put a "shh...baby sleeping!" sign on my front door or take the phone off the hook during nap time. On the contrary, I napped my newborns in a pack-n-play right in the family room and went about my normal business around them. Newborns can sleep through just about anything and our boys quickly grew accustomed to sleeping through our regular household noises. As they got older and moved into their crib for naptime, I was still able to take phone calls, have visitors, vacuum and even practice the piano during naptime without any worry of waking them.

There is some accounting for personality, however. Though undoubtedly Liam has lived in a much noisier environment than Drew ever did, Liam is the lighter sleeper of the two. I've noticed recently that he'll wake up (especially if it's nearing the end of naptime) if Drew yells down the stairs at just the right pitch--or sings too loudly in his room across the hall. And while I did spend the better part of a naptime last weekend in Liam's room sorting clothes without waking him, I was pretty quiet. I've even found myself using the phrase, "Shhh..the baby's napping!" with Drew and his friends. I know, crazy!

Drew, on the other hand, can truly sleep through anything. Today, while he took a rare but much-needed nap, I decided to quietly dust his room. After accidentally dropping a whole bunch of legos very loudly into their bin--and not even causing a stir--I threw caution to the wind and noisily picked up everything off the floor so I could swiffer, too. Meanwhile Liam played and shouted exuberantly across the hall. Drew slept on. Remembering that when he was a baby, I'd often vacuum right under his crib as he slept (and knowing it was probably time for him to wake up anyway) I got even more brave and vacuumed the hall and stairs outside of Drew's room. He slept through it all.

Two other recent stories involving my deep sleeper:

#1 The other day we had to run several errands around town, the last being a quick stop at the local Christian bookstore. Drew loves to play with the Thomas the Tank Engine train set at this bookstore, so I told him if he was cooperative at Wal-mart, we'd spend some time playing at the "Thomas store" as he calls it. Well, by the time we finished our other errands and parked in front of the Thomas store, both boys were fast asleep. I tried for several minutes to wake Drew with no luck. Thinking maybe he really needed a nap, I headed home and attempted to carry him into the house asleep. As soon as I pulled him out of his seat, his eyes popped open and he asked, "Are we at the Thomas store? I really, really wanted to go to the Thomas store!" Since he had been exceptionally helpful at Wal-mart, we got back into the van and drove to the Thomas store. (I guess that's the beauty of living 6 blocks from downtown.)

#2 I mentioned in a previous post that we sometimes put the boys in their jammies and go for a bedtime stroll. One night a few weeks ago, we got them ready for bed and then decided to head for the Whippy Dip (our legendary local ice cream shop). I mentioned to Brad that Liam would probably fall asleep on the way there and Drew immediately piped up, "I'm not going to fall asleep! I'm having ice cream!" Alas, by the time we arrived, both boys were sacked out. After waiting in a rather long line, and fielding many humorous comments about our sons slumbering away in the double stroller, we decided we'd better order Drew a small cone in case he woke up on the way home. After getting our ice cream, Brad decided it really would be most kind to just wake him up. We tried everything we could think of, including practically sticking his nose right into the cone, before Daddy finally ate the extra cone (such sacrifices we make as parents!) and we walked home and put the boys to bed. Here's the best part: the next morning Brad was coming out of the shower just as Drew woke up. First words out of his mouth, I kid you not: "I wanted Whippy Dip!!"

A Little Perspective

I've found myself in a bit of a hormone-induced slump (if you know what I mean) the last few days and decided I needed a little reality check.

So...things I am thankful for this week:

• the fact that Drew and his dad are currently at a movie together...and as I watched them head into the theatre I couldn't tell which one was more excited about it

• having a blonde-haired, blue-eyed excuse to go down the waterslide at the local pool over and over and over and...you get the idea
  

• absolutely perfect summer weather--cool evenings, chilly mornings, warm and bright afternoons


• corn on the cob dripping with butter (although Heather's right--it's still a little early)


• getting the giggles with Drew this morning (No, not laughing at something with him because I knew he thought it was really funny, not chuckling to myself over something he did that I thought was funny. This was the two of us laughing until we were crying about something we found mutually hilarious--and it was awesome!)


• the way my husband so readily apologizes when he knows he's been wrong--and realizing how much our relationship has grown in almost ten years of marriage


• watching Liam eat cheerios out of his daddy's mouth like a baby bird and his mommy (maybe you have to be there)


• getting my haircut


• getting Drew's haircut (and having it be a pleasant experience for all involved)


• the times I found satisfaction in God rather than food this week


• God's tender mercy for the times I didn't


• seeing a picture of the little Korean boy our dear friends (already the parents of 13- and 10-year-old girls) will soon be adopting--and being a part of yet another chapter of the amazing adventure God launched them on a year ago


• knowing that God has an amazing adventure planned for us too--and having the courage to pray that He would reveal it


• The sheer joy my boys have in being together:

Yeah, okay, I feel better already.

...And SomeBody's Child

In this morning's sermon, our pastor challenged us to find our identity not in our various roles--mom, wife, worship leader--but in Christ. Among other things, he talked about the subtle difference between identifying yourself as a nurse (for example) that's a Christian, versus a follower of Christ that happens to be a nurse. I was convicted.

I used to be a teacher and I absolutely loved it. It was my calling--and my whole identity. In fact, it blows me away that there are people that know me now that don't even know that I taught--it was such a huge part of who I was for so long. When God led me to take a non-teaching job in the community in which we now live, I went through a deep mourning period, not just for the absolutely ideal job I had to leave when we moved, but also for my very identity. Without teaching, I didn't know who I was.

I have said numerous times that I'm so glad God took me through that period before I got pregnant. I knew that I would quit teaching when I had my first baby, and I would have hated to have that identity crisis all tied up in becoming a mom. God graciously led me through the process of giving up that part of my life (at least for now) 2 years before I had Drew so that when he arrived I was able to joyfully embrace a new role as mom with an undivided heart.

Anyway, as I sat there this morning listening to the sermon, I realized that while I am now able to identify myself as mom and wife first and that might seem like I've gotten my priorities straightened out, I'm still really missing the boat. Even though making my family first on my list seems noble, in reality I've just exchanged one misplaced identity for another.

The truth is this: unless my primary identity is in Christ, my life will inevitably be off-balance. For instance, if my whole identity is in being Drew and Liam's mom, I'm going to parent them in a way that affirms my role: baby them so that I always feel needed, or push them to be super-kids so my sacrifice is validated by their successes, or at the very least, be a terribly overbearing mother-in-law! :) If, on the other hand, my identity is in being a worship leader, I'm going to put church work before my family, cater to the whims of every member of the congregation that lodges a complaint, or foster a prideful performance-based atmosphere.

It is only when my identity is solely grounded in the fact that I am a new creation in Christ that I can be truly free to parent with my children's best interest in mind, be the kind of wife my husband needs and serve my church, workplace and community to God's glory and not my own.

So...in hindsight, maybe I should have titled my blog Somebody's Child.

Simple Pleasures: Closet Update and Liam's Latest

I finished both boys' closets today and it felt so great that I kept going and did the bathroom closet, too.

Both boys pretty much have all their clothes in their dressers, so the closets quickly become a dumping grounds for things they've outgrown. It didn't take as long as I thought to go through everything and get it sorted back into sizes and packed away. The challenge was keeping Liam distracted long enough for me to fold and pack faster than he could unfold and throw across the floor! We just got a big bag of hand-me-downs for Drew (a rarity these days) so it was fun to go through that -- a bunch of really cute shirts from Gap and Old Navy that will be perfect for fall.

I just can't tell you how much I love a newly-organized closet!

In other news, Liam just turned 9 months. We've been convincing ourselves for a while that when he says "mamamama" and "dadadadada" he, of course, means us, his beloved parents. But today, for sure he said "mamamama" every time he wanted me. One time he even patted me on the arm and said, "mamama!" Then, as if asking for his dad, he got kind of pouty and said, "dadada?" That's our boy genius!

My Sesame Street Character -- people, this is deep psychology!

You Are Big Bird

Talented, smart, and friendly... you're also one of the sanest people around. You are usually feeling: Happy. From riding a unicycle to writing poetry, you have plenty of hobbies to keep you busy. You are famous for: Being a friend to everyone. Even the grumpiest person gets along with you. How you life your life: Joyfully. "Super. Duper. Flooper."

The Sesame Street Personality Quiz

Something to Do

Yesterday just before dinner Drew came down and asked the age-old question:

"Mom, what can I do?"

"Well," I replied, "Your dad's out mowing. You could go help him."

Deep, dramatic sigh. "I'm too tired to mow."

"I have to run to the store quick. You could come with me."

"Nah. What else could I do?"

"Spit in your shoe?" (This is Nana's classic response and always gets a smile.)

"Nooooo!" Giggle, giggle.

"You could give me 25 hugs and 32 kisses."

Big smile. "Ok!" And up he climbed into my lap to deliver.

Simple Pleasures: Closet Edition

Now that it's mid-June already, I finally went through my closet, put away the winter sweaters, sorted through summer clothes (fat summer, skinny summer, pregnant summer) to find the ones that fit now, and packed up a huge bag of stuff for goodwill. It feels soooo good!

Now, on to the boys' rooms!

On Lying and Forgiveness

Our almost four-year-old has started lying. I know in my head that this is a typical development at this age--and just another manifestation of his sin nature--but wow, I wasn't prepared for how unnerving it would be to watch my beloved son look me straight in the eyes and tell a boldface lie without even a flinch.

Yesterday I walked into the dining room to see the blinds raised all the way to the top. We never leave them this way, so I asked Drew if he had been playing with the blinds (he knows he is not supposed to do this). "No," he responded, casually, "I didn't do it." I questioned him again but he stuck to his story. Now, there are only four people in our family: I knew I hadn't done it, it certainly wasn't the baby, and a quick trip upstairs to check in with daddy confirmed he was innocent as well. I confronted Drew with this logic. His only response: "I don't know, Mommy. I didn't do it."

Now I could really care less about the blinds. We have a rule and try to keep it consistent for safety reasons, but had he admitted his guilt at the first question, I probably would have simply reminded him the blinds were off-limits and left it at that.

Lying, on the other hand, is another deal altogether. So I stood him in front of me, told him I knew he was lying and that lying was not tolerated in this family, and then said that he would need to go to his room until he was ready to tell me the truth.

"Ok, Mommy, I'm sorry," was his immediate response, "I don't want to go to my room."

Thinking we were finally getting somewhere I said, "Ok, then, you need to tell the truth. Did you play with the blinds?"

"No, I didn't."

After I sent Drew to his room, I sat downstairs, blown away at the strength of his instinct for self-preservation. As soon as he told that first lie, he was committed--if he wanted to avoid admitting wrongdoing, he had to stick with his story, whether it made any sense or not. Sadly, the longer he stuck with it, the further it led him away from reconciliation with me, his loving mom.

How silly of him, I thought, to think that I wouldn't know he was lying. And to cling so long to the notion that denying his guilt would work out better for him than just admitting it.

How often, though, do we try to pull the same ridiculously futile stunt with God? We try to cover up our selfish motives, hide our secret sins, sometimes even boldly lying to His face. And, let's be totally honest here, we get ourselves in the same sin cycle Drew was in -- committed to a course of action that can only lead us away from our Heavenly Father, but unable or unwilling to come clean. Even though we're totally miserable, we somehow convince ourselves admitting the truth will be even worse.

This morning in church we read the following Scripture:

Blessed is he whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered.
Blessed is the man whose sin the LORD does not count against him and in whose spirit is no deceit.
When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long.
For day and night your hand was heavy upon me;
my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer.
Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity.
I said, " I will confess my transgressions to the LORD"
--and you forgave the guilt of my sin.
Therefore let everyone who is godly pray to you while you may found;
surely when the mighty waters rise, they will not reach him.
You are my hiding place;
you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.
(Psalm 32:1-7)

Our natural instinct when we are ashamed is to cover ourselves (think Adam and Eve in the garden). But only when we make ourselves naked and vulnerable before God can he clothe us with his righteousness. How it must break God's heart to watch us "wasting away" with guilt and shame, when all we need to do is acknowledge our sin and he will not only forgive us, but become our very hiding place.

When I went up to Drew's room yesterday and he finally confessed, told me the truth and apologized, I told him that there was nothing he could ever do that telling his dad and I the truth wouldn't be better than lying. I got tears in my eyes as I said it because I realized just how true that statement was, and what it implied as Drew grows up: there is nothing he could do that would cause us to love him any less. If he is dishonest with us, it breaks our trust and creates a very real chasm in our relationship. But if he confesses, we want nothing more than to forgive and restore the relationship.

How much more does our Heavenly Father desire to be merciful with us?

Simple Pleasures

The other night we gave the boys baths, put their fresh-scrubbed little bodies in clean jammies, and then deposited them both--slicked back hair and all--into the double stroller. Over an hour later, we had walked several miles, enjoyed a beautiful evening, had some great conversation and now had the distinct pleasure of tenderly tucking two sleeping princes into their beds.

It doesn't get any better than that.

Surprised by God

Ok, so at the risk of sounding like a wacko right from the start, I have to tell you a story.

The first thing you need to know is that God has been working on my relationship with food as of late. I have some significant weight to lose and have known for some time that food is an idol in my life. This spring God is helping me to realize my true freedom in Christ and through obedience to Him, I'm learning to approach food in a healthier way.

The second thing you need to know is that a few weeks ago I damaged one of my husband's most prized and valuable possessions and didn't tell him. Now, this is not something I habitually do--in fact, I don't remember ever keeping something even relatively minor like this from him for any period of time. But...he was extremely stressed with end-of-semester grading and committee work at the time and I knew the particular circumstances surrounding the damage would probably send him over the edge. So, I didn't tell him.

My husband is a scientist and definitely the most observant (read: anal) person I've ever met. For the first 24 hours after the incident I literally held my breath every time he walked past the object in question. To my utter amazement, he didn't notice anything wrong. I felt horrid --guilty, deceitful, and afraid--but I convinced myself that it was for his sake that I wasn't telling him -- it was just such terrible timing. As hours turned into days and days turned into weeks, and still he hadn't noticed anything, I began to convince myself that perhaps it wasn't that big of deal after all. And eventually, to be honest, I pretty much forgot all about it.

Meanwhile, I've really been working on this whole eating thing (basically just eating when I'm hungry and stopping when I'm full -- duh, right?). But even as I felt much freer from that desire to overeat, and knew I was eating significantly less food, I hadn't lost any weight (after an intial loss of 6 pounds in just a couple of weeks). I was trying to be patient and trust that the weight loss would come if I just focused on obedience in this area, but part of me knew that I was holding something back.

So anyway, last night during my devotions several things (my bible reading, some stuff going on in our community, my own reflections about this whole food issue) converged to bring me to a point of deep repentance before God. For the first time in a long time I really felt the pain of choosing to put my trust in other things before God and got truly repentant--I put it all on the table. As I was praying and talking to God, he reminded me of the incident and the fact that I had yet to be honest with my husband. And then he revealed to me, clear as anything, that I had stopped losing weight right around the same time I had started witholding the truth from Brad. Even though I thought this revelation was from God, I didn't know if I really believed there was a correlation between the two things. I even had the gall to argue with God that at this point it might just be better not to tell Brad about it at all. Finally, I asked God to show me a sign: if this really was the deal, and if he was asking me to now be honest with my husband, when I got on the scale in the morning I would have lost weight. (Remember, I had not lost even a fraction of a pound in almost a month.) As soon as I made the request, I regretted it. It seemed like such a ridiculous thing to do. I knew deep down I needed to be honest with Brad, I didn't need a sign to tell me that, right? Besides, now that I'd asked for the sign, if God didn't respond, I'd probably think I was off the hook. And, if he did, well--I think I didn't really believe that would happen, but if it did, then I really would have to obey and tell Brad--and I wasn't thrilled about that, either.

Oh me of little faith! This morning I nervously got on the scale and wouldn't you know, I had lost more than a pound since just the day before. Why does it surprise me when God proves He is listening and active in my life? I say that I believe to my core that this is true, but then, when he shows it so tangibly I'm almost always surprised. Anyway, now I had to follow through and talk to Brad. As I showered and got ready for a work day, I prayed that God would give me the courage to tell him the truth and that He would prepare Brad to be merciful and understanding.

Thinking I would wait until after work (my parents were watching the boys and I didn't want a scene if he got upset) I headed out to the garage to get in my car, but found myself stopping to study the damaged object before I drove off. My husband, who for almost a month had seemed completely blind to this damage, suddenly saw me from the kitchen window and said, "Hey, what's wrong?" I had to just laugh. God was not going to let me procrastinate until after work! I called Brad out to the garage right then and told him the whole story. He smiled, gave me a hug and said, "Oh, I can fix that."

God's ways are indeed higher than ours.

The Balancing Act

Let's face it: much of the work of motherhood is really about giving up the self. Not in a horrible, abusive way, but in a healthy, peeling away the excess, refining way. And yet, I resist the notion that what's left should be something other than me. In fact, what' s left should be me better defined. I believe God gave me strengths and weaknesses, a particular personality and certain gifts and talents for a reason. And I believe he wants me to bring these to my parenting. Ultimately, if I rely on Him, I will be be a good mom because of who I am, not in spite of it.

Therefore, while clearly the main focus of my life right now is raising these two precious boys God has given us, I also have an active life as a wife, worship leader, church member, writer, reader, friend, daughter (in-law) and sister (in-law), and wannabe knitter. I believe these aspects of my life enrich it, and make me a better mom to my boys. But, I must confess, I do struggle--as so many of us do--to find the right balance. It's easy to make excuses both ways -- to shirk my mommy duties in favor of other things that feel more stimulating or rewarding at the moment, or on the other side, to flake out on a church or work responsibility and use my kids as a convenient excuse.

The answer, I know, lies in looking to God each day to set my priorities and manage my time. But that, of course, is much easier said than done. And ultimately, the heart of it is about living my life to please God, not people. That, too, is a perpetual challenge.

Clearly there's still a lot more refining to be done.

The Realization

I remember the moment precisely. It was just a week or two after my second son was born and the four of us were walking home, having just visited the farmer's market. It was a beautiful fall morning and the first time we'd broken out the double stroller. As I walked along next to my husband and sons, I felt complete. After all those months of waiting, our baby was here and we were a family.

Something about this second baby seemed to change something in my perception of our situation. No longer were we the cute, young couple with a toddler. We were a family. And then, suddenly it dawned on me. We were a family---and I was the mom!!!

It was in that moment, on that gorgeous Saturday in October, that I first felt like a grown up. I know, I know...I was already well into my thirties, had been a wife for almost 10 years and a mother for over 3. But it wasn't until that moment that I felt the full weight of my responsibility. And it almost knocked me off of my feet.

Thankfully, I know that my children are gifts from an Almighty God and he has ultimate responsibility for them. However, I'm fairly sure He has plans for me to have a significant role in their journey. And so, that's pretty much what my life is about right now: discovering how to raise my boys to be men after God's own heart.

Soli Deo Gloria