If the Wise Men were introverted, suffering from PMS and slightly obsessed with One Direction

Christmas lights and sounds and crowds make me weary. My breath comes slowly and I feel hot and sticky in the holiday shops and endless lines. I prefer to watch it all from the fringes, appearing for a bit and retreating quickly to solitude.

The holidays are busy: a drive to my parents, peppered with conversation, a stop @ Cracker Barrel where Baby Girl laughed so hard root beer spewed across the table, and jazz on the radio. Pops and brother played guitar; Nana walked to and from the kitchen; Baby Girl and Teen Niece straightened hair; husband and Little Nephew conversed intently about Star Wars. I watched, half immersed in a book, enjoying the familiar.

Christmas Eve @ husband's family: the winding country roads and the smell of lavender to keep the motion sickness @ bay. Food and people. Baby Nephew excited in all that is wrapped and waiting to be opened. Baby Girl new here, still--like her mother--stays close throughout the day, venturing to play only as night is falling. There are dogs; one so massive and alive, he is better suited to the pages of Narnia, but gentle. His head as big as mine nudges my hand for attention, his heft against my legs.

On the way home, we pull over and watch deer for a moment...a sight still thrilling for those of us in this new country.

As Christmas sneaks in, Baby Girl is fast asleep, husband wraps the last of the gifts, and I lie watching him. I search my essential oils guide for cramps find two that came free with the starter kit. "That's how to get husbands to buy in. Treat PMS." Husband laughs when he says it.

Christmas morning there are gifts, cinnamon rolls, a 100 piece puzzle. Baby Girl asked us if we said Happy Birthday to Jesus. She facetimes with Pops. It is our first Christmas day apart-bittersweet because we miss them, but know they're happy for our family.

The day lazes on; there are books, leftovers (jambalaya from husband's uncle, Nana's BBQ), naps, the documentary concert of One Direction.

It is a quiet Christmas. Unremarkable by most standards. I wonder if I'm failing with no tree, no decorations, no traditions.

Baby Girl wears a trail telling me that the One Direction calendar has all the birthdays marked (Harry's is February 1). She raves over the cinnamon rolls and jambalaya. Pouts when her wallet can't be found. She shows off her new shoes and headbands, downloads songs to her IPod. She is quick witted, sometimes sharp-tongued, curious, confident turning flips or doing turns on stage, yet so shy we couldn't sing Happy Birthday to her until she was four. It is her heart I see today; her letting Baby Nephew help tear open her last gift, her teacher commenting how she was one of only three girls that refused to get involved in a tween girls' dispute, and today counting out dollars and coins that she had saved for almost a year to fund drinking water for someone else.

Husband took photos, modeled his new shoes, and a belt too big. He took a nap, made the absolute best sandwiches, and silently matched Baby Girl's donation dollar for dollar, never telling her. It has been a year since we married. He is more confident, able to stand up for himself better, and laughs more. He quadruple wrapped some of Baby Girl's gifts after he caught her peeking through the paper. She laughed at being foiled; he pleased that he could foil her.

And I with my little family. Laughed at the pictures taken, tackled pieces of the puzzle, read a book as husband napped, enjoyed chips and salsa. In this, my first year of marriage, I find I have to defend less, enjoy more, and am happy to have someone to depend on.

I think of the Wise Men. Their flaws? Did one want to lead, but was forced to follow? Did one begrudge bringing the gift of gold to a child? The shepherd? Did he doubt? Was he irritable? A loner? And Mary. Sweet, sweet Nana reminds me how hard that donkey ride must have been for her. Who could have blamed Joseph had he left? We know so little of this man, but I marvel at what he must have been, for God entrusted him with the earthly raising of His Son. The cast of characters that makes the first Christmas was not dressed in finest linens, did not hold the highest office of the day, did not attend parties in the fanciest of places. They were integral to the Story because they were searching for the KING.

So today, we are celebrating Jesus birth. It was low-key, a little unconventional, surrounded by the people who are closest. And so was our Christmas, our flawed cast of three, enjoying one another and following the KING.

Mary, did you know?

Tonight there were no AR goals, no make-up work, no organic/nonGMO meals, no labor budgets, no mortgage payments. There was Wendy's (her choice), preview of the new jazz dance, plans for a friend's party tomorrow. Tonight, I combed her head and greased her scalp--something she has deemed herself grown enough to do for over a year. I never imagined her magic moments, all those long days she grew inside me. I could not have envisioned her laugh, quick wit, sensitivity to others, and her fierce protection of her mama. Nothing can prepare you for the love, joy, pride, the worry. If I knew the outcome would I still have wanted the ride? Mary, did you know? The betrayal? The cross? Even knowing Sunday was coming, could you have carried the burden of Friday? How much God loves us knowing the end and sending His Son? How much Jesus? Their heart breaking on Calgary? Tonight, for the mamas who lost their babies, there aren't words. But between mothers there don't have to be. Mary, did you know? And for the rest of us, belief in the One who does.

31 days to a less lazy me...

I love to do as little as possible, at least some of the time.

Lying on a couch vegetating in front of a L&O marathon while googling whatever pops into my head (does anyone else remember the 80s sitcom that starred 7-ish siblings whose name all started with J...which presidents were bachelors...the name of Booby Goren’s brother?) is my ideal day.

I can be a great starter: emptying an entire closet with plans to clean out and organize, unload a kitchen cabinet with plans to clean and put down new shelf paper.

I can also be a great avoider. If I leave the laundry in the dryer, I don't have to fold it.

My husband says that I'm not lazy (Of course, he knows the husband mantra of being right or happy.).

I can't even pretend to agree.

This morning when I learned about 31 days, I knew I was supposed to do it.

It came to me later on what.

"Go to the ant you sluggard;
consider its ways and be wise!

How long will you lie there, you sluggard?"

Proverbs 6: 6 & 9a

Wolfie II, my frequent partner in all things sloth

My hope/prayer is that the next month will be a time of learning, honest reflection, and encouragement with and from the Lord.

Goals for today:

1. Don't put on pajamas until at least 9 pm. It is OK to change out of scrubs, but wear something you can take the dog outside in, run to get baby girl at dance in, etc. (Ants are dressed and ready for the task at hand or the one that may arise.)

2. Don't lie down on the couch before 9 pm! You will not get up. Don't pretend that you will. You won't. No matter what. Don't lie down, not even for a minute. Got it?!!

9 things I learned as a stay-at-home mom

1. It would be easier to infiltrate a foreign rebel military than the PTA.

2. When people ask what you do, they usually do not think laundry, cook, clean, volunteer, chauffer is not enough to fill a day.

3. You will eventually find an episode of Law & Order: SVU you have never seen.

4. $11.76 a book adds up quickly on your smart phone.

5. Volunteer groups do not readily accept help or suggestion, usually.

6. Your retired parents are always out doing something when you call in the day.

7. Your husband means “the house has never looked cleaner” as a compliment. You are still not speaking to him.

8. When no one compliments the dinner you made (mostly) from scratch, you are angry that you cannot fire your family.

9. The mom who is color-coordinated, packs homemade vegan, gluten-free, organic (I know, I do push the organics) lunches, is the chair of the PTA book drive, has 5 children (all born naturally at home with her husband singing softly and marveling at the power of her uterus) is NOT the best person to compare yourself to, unless, of course, you see a memo she wrote and it contains there instead of their. THEN YOU OWN HER!

Hats off to all of you!

Ezekiel 16:44

"...As is the mother, so is the daughter." Ezekiel 16:44

My mother was a stay-at-home mom (SAHM). The late 70s, early 80s...took me to ballet, mission friends, swimming, preschool at the local church, delivered meals-on-wheels, and I got to get the cold milk cartons from the Styrofoam container. She was up and dressed with breakfast on the table every morning, made cooked lunch, cooked supper. She did it all. (Note: my dad is a great guy. He worked hard, mowed the yard (in slacks [you'll laugh if you know him], pitched in around the house. But we were a gender-traditional nuclear family.)

With both of her kids in school, Mom stayed just as busy: volunteered with a pregnancy crisis center, was PTA president, taught Sunday School, car pooled.

I was home sick one day in jr. high (I was a brat, worse I was a book-smart brat. My apologies to everyone who knew me before I turned ummm....35) and was well-enough to be bored and watch her (note: not help with) her day-to-day routine. I remember telling her, "I could never do this all day every day. It is awful! How do you not go crazy?"

And I didn't, at least not until a month ago.

School started over the past few weeks. It was my first day as a SAHM without baby girl at home. Laundry on, floors swept and vacuumed, bed made, and then I scrolled through Facebook and saw it. An old friend, we had worked a summer together at a Christian camp, posted "Lord, help me to remember there is a season for staying home, that S___won't be young forever. Help me to remember there is a season too for teaching again one day. Thank you for this season."

My camp friend is smart, sweet, loved by everyone (those I can testify to); from her Facebook page she seems to be involved in her community and church, engaged with friends and one incredible educator. She could be anything she wanted. She was choosing to stay home.

I never realized that my mom chose it too. My mom is brilliant: salutatorian of her college class, still speaks enough Spanish to get by in most any situation that may arise, she will annihilate you in any game involving trivia or memory. She is funny, articulate, kind. She could have been anything in the world she chose. And she chose to be my mother.

So to the jr. high girl who couldn't see it then: pay close to attention to your mom and her "routine" day; even if you choose to have a different one, you can learn a lot from her.

Man Plans, God laughs (borrowed from an episode of Frazier)

It had been a good day, some house cleaning, leisurely reading, baby girl “making” scented lotions (Each use is $1 if you’re interested.) Late afternoon, we went shopping: shoes, back-pack, shorts. And by then, nearing dinner-time, she wanted to make the hour drive to the mall.

I vetoed the outing, saying we could go tomorrow: more time to shop and better weather. And then her face grew long, lips pursed, and I felt my irritation rising: she is too old for this; we spent the whole afternoon shopping for her.

A breath or two. A different approach. “Baby girl, did I say we couldn’t go to the mall at all?” She shakes her head side-to-side. “Didn’t we do several things you wanted today? So why the sour face?”

“I wanted to do everything that I had planned.”

Oh she is my child!

Her face, her hands, her very quick (and occasionally ill-timed and inappropriate) wit, and her wanting it all—her way, just as she planned.

Lord, is this how I am with you? If something doesn’t go just so, do I want to chuck it all? Why do I overlook the joy that I’ve already had just because something is different than I imagined it would be?

Why do I throw in the towel when something doesn’t go my way? Help me, Lord, to let go of my plans, to be accepting of whatever it is you have planned for me.

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord." Jeremiah 29:11

 

I feel my irritation subsiding. The lesson here is not only hers to be learned. How amazing it is when the Lord uses our children to humble us.

“Baby girl, is it worth ruining the rest of the evening just because we’re not doing something exactly the way you want it? Or is it better to have had fun doing some of what you wanted today and some more tomorrow?”  Her look softens. “Or even if we didn’t go to the mall tomorrow, isn’t it better to enjoy what we did today?”

I don’t know if she is surprised by the lack of a mom speech or agrees with the logic, but the long face is lessened. And she is OK with her plans being changed.

Lord, help me to be OK with mine being changed as well.

OK With the Now

I love to be right. Not only knowing that I am right; I want other people to know I'm right and admit that they are wrong.

I am not good at slowly letting people come to their own realizations. I push. And push. Relentless until they see the error of their ways or until I am furious and frustrated, or both.

And I want others, not necessarily involved to tell me I am right too.

Is that too much to ask?
(I Think we may have discovered one of the beams in mine own eye!)


But what to do when you are at an impasse?

Is it Christian to agree to disagree? How do you respond when they are too angry? Angry enough to hurt others with words because they want to be right too?

I told my husband I don't want my attitude to be sinful. But I have no idea what that means. Or how to start if I did.

So I stopped pushing. I quit talking or texting the other party, long before I wanted to. And I asked the Lord what I needed to do and admitted I already had my own ideas. And I didn't try to rally others to my side too terribly much.

And I saw I was keeping score.

Take 2.

Ok. Do I have to/need to let them spend alone time with my kid (and future ones, if it happens)? Is it wrong to curb relationships if you feel genuinely insulted and belittled? And how do you explain it to the kids and the other party?

Is not being sinful synonymous with ignoring your own feelings about serious issues (values and morals)?

Or is it OK to proceed cautiously? Understanding that right now I don't have a comfort level? And that it’s OK not to. Being a Christian does not mean you are OK with everyone all the time, even if they are Christians too. And knowing it is OK to say “No” or “Enough. It is our family. Let us do it our way.” doesn’t make you any less in His eyes, even if it is hard for others to hear.

But I don’t think it is a final answer. I have to be open to change in the future? Knowing that we all change and grow. But knowing I want THE END, a resolution, RIGHT NOW? But learning to be OK with the now?

               

It is new for me, but I am trying. Learning it is OK to stand up for myself without beating someone else into submission…..and being OK with where it takes me…..that is what I’m learning today.