Tough Days

Blankie washing days are tough around here.

Even on a sunny day it takes too long.

So long that they must take matters into their own hands.

Good thing we don’t wash them too often!

Celebrate the Small Stuff

I love special events. Events we go to and everyone is bathed and dressed nice. Or at least nicer than normal. Which doesn’t take much.

Last weekend my cousin got married. We made of weekend of it with my parents and my sister’s family. Maren was one of the flower girls. It was a big day. Lots of fun. Lots of friends and relatives I don’t see very often. I love big days.

But the big, special days are few and far between. If I only live for the big stuff, the every day will get pretty boring. I will become pretty cranky.

As I get older and further along in my parenting I am realizing that I love the small stuff too. There are so many more of those every day moments that are precious; walking back from the fireworks carrying little people in pajamas who have their arms wrapped around my neck, getting sunburned at the fourth of July parade every year, floating down the lazy river with a preschooler on my lap and her arms around my neck, being the one they cry for when they have a nightmare, helping mend scraped knees and stop bloody noses, being there when they have bad days and good days, and when my nursing babies stopped crying the minute they heard my voice. That’s the good stuff.

I watched my aunt and cousin get teary as they started taking pictures at the wedding and it made me realize that the small stuff gives texture to the big, special stuff. I’m guessing they weren’t teary over just that day, but a lifetime of small stuff that led to it.

If I’m disconnected as a mom in the small things, there won’t be much of a connection in the big things. Sometimes when I am making my twentieth trip up the stairs at a waterpark, I wish I was reading a book or in the room doing my own thing. I don’t always want to be engaged. It would be nicer to stay home from scorching parades and baseball games. But what could I be doing that would be better than the small stuff?

Hours spent in the backyard, red-neck water park.

Morning cuddles. Now.

And then.

After bath snuggles.

Hot baseball games.

Birthday parties.

Ice cream cones in the backyard.

Celebrating the small stuff everyday is one of the keys to contentment in mothering. You don’t get those moments back. Be there and enjoy them. They give texture and richness to the big stuff. And life.

Stinky

It was a stinky night around here. It’s been raining for four days and one of our dogs got too close to a skunk. I don’t think anything smells worse than skunk except maybe wet skunky dog.

This is one of the reasons I didn’t want a dog. They smell. And living where we do I knew it was only a matter of time.

When we first got our dogs I was super hyper about bathing them and cleaning the kennel every week. I didn’t want my house to smell like dog. But I learned that even a clean, wet dog, still smells like wet dog. So I backed off that a little.

So the skunk tangle set off a domino effect cleaning tonight. It’s VBS week and I’ve been wrangling 25 preschoolers every day so I hadn’t planned on doing much but the bare minimum tonight. Or all week really.

But once we had the Pet Jet out I figured we may as well give both the dogs a bath as long as we already have the mess right?

So the dogs got bathed, kennel got cleaned out, and puppy blankets got washed. While I was cleaning out the kennel I stepped in dog poop. And I was barefoot. So I cleaned up the yard. Then I washed my feet in the tub which was already dirty from dog baths.

Which led to me cleaning the bathroom. Which totally needed to be done anyway. I washed the floor and lit a bunch of candles. I did all the dishes and cleaned the stove top. Even under the burners (are you proud mom?) and the sink.

Now I’m sitting here in my Lysol fresh house with some nice candles burning wondering what’s so bad about a little stink?

I’ve had a lot of stink in my life from time to time. The kind that doesn’t come from living in a house with five kids and two dogs. I mean emotional and spiritual stink. It's only a matter of time. Everyone gets sprayed at some point. The question is what are you going to do about it?

Dealing with the stink is no fun. But God gives us an opportunity for redemption. Why not take the opportunity to clean house? Why not look at it as as a chance to deal with my stuff. Maybe offer a little forgiveness, grow in humility, take out the trash, or clean under the burners of your heart. There is peace in washing away the stink of life.

If I just wallow in it, everything will stink pretty soon. So let the dominoes fall to redemption. Use the stink for good. Maybe I’ll clean up a few more things in my heart while I’m already down there scrubbing.

In the end when I have a clean slate and a heart that’s right with God, I’m kind of thankful for the stink. And for candles. And Lysol. And God’s grace and forgiveness. There’s no peace without that.

Do Pillow Pets Go To Heaven?

When our first daughter got her tonsils out I told her we’d buy her a pillow pet for the surgery and recovery.  I didn’t know that all the girls would end up getting their tonsils out and I’d have to fork over the money for many more pillow pets. 

Of all the girls, Maren loves hers most.  Along with her two blankies.  She carries them everywhere, sleeps with them, cuddles with them, eats with them.  On the day of her surgery they put her pillow pet right in the wagon they use to take the kids back to the operating room.

The other night while I was cooking supper she came out carrying her precious comfort items and asked me if she could take her pillow pet and blankies to heaven.  What’s a mom to do?  I don’t want to freak her out but I am pretty sure that telling the truth is the right thing to do.  I’m more than pretty sure, I’m totally sure.

I told her that in heaven we’ll have all we need or want in Jesus.  She didn’t really like that answer.  She stomped her foot and said she wasn’t going to listen to me.  I think we came to some type of understanding towards the end of the evening when I told her God loves and will take care of us.  Maybe she’ll have a real penguin in heaven to cuddle with instead of just a stuffed one. 

It’s so hard to explain things like that to a four year old and it’s not just because they are kids.  It’s because I can’t fathom heaven.  And I think I have a twisted view of heaven and the ultimate meaning of our walk with Jesus. 

Do I want to be saved and love God because I don’t want to go to hell? Or because I want comfort?  Or because I want to see my deceased relatives and friends again?  So I love him and serve him maybe with some ulterior motives.  Maybe like if you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours. 

That’s why we hold on to our pathetic things that give us comfort here.  We hold on to our material possessions, our travels, our athletic conquests and our career successes because we can’t really believe that what God has for us is that good.  We can’t let go of the good we have here.

I learned a lot about streets of gold and mansions growing up in church which I think has led me to believe that heaven is going to be the ultimate in self indulgence.  So I better be good and go to church to make sure I get that chance.

What has changed in my faith since then is the realization that Jesus Christ is the prize.  It doesn’t matter at all to me what is in heaven or what I have to leave behind here as long as I am with him.  He is more amazing and wonderful than any of the meaningless little things I cling to.  Or the things that are meaningful.  He is still more amazing that that.  So it’s not about what’s there or isn’t there, it’s about WHO’s there.

I don’t love him and serve him just so I can get to heaven, I love him and serve Him because He is worthy.  He is the Son of God, the giver of all good things.  Full of mercy and compassion and grace.  I don’t just want the things that He offers, I want Him.

When He opened my eyes to that, my views on the things of this world changed.  I don’t really expect my four year old to understand all that.  But I hope that through what I am learning I can teach them that Jesus is it.  He is all we need.  Both with my words and my actions.

There are things that are infinitely more important than chasing after and holding onto the things of this world.  And I know this; I trust in a God that is loving and merciful.  He cares for our needs like a mother cares for a baby. 

It’s a hard stand to take as a parent or a person.  People will not understand the way your live or the decisions you make.  They may look down on you or ridicule you.  That is the cost of following Jesus.  We do not live as the world lives. 

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.  Romans 12:1-2

So, I don’t know if there are pillow pets or blankies in heaven, but if there aren’t, I have a feeling we won’t miss them at all.

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them.  They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.  He will wipe every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”  Revelation 21:3-4

Dear Dr. ENT,

I think you are a great doctor.  I wouldn’t let just any yahoo put my kids under the knife to be sure.  Our frequent visits have practically put us on a first name basis.

I hope you really enjoy the fruits of your labor. 

Maybe after the first tonsillectomy you got yourself a nice new car. 

(Google Images)

And the second one may have sent you on a tropical dream vacation.

(Google Images)

The third one may have paid your child’s college tuition.

(google images)

Now with the fourth one, I hope you can find a nice place to retire.  Maybe on a golf course.

(google images)

You totally deserve it.  We are glad all of our girls are tonsil free and we won’t have to battle the strep monster again next year.  We are thankful for your services.

But since we are so chummy now, could you do me a favor?  Would you let me scrub the toilets in your retirement house when it comes time for me to buy four wedding dresses? 

(google images)

Thanks.  I knew I could count on you.

Sincerely,

Michelle

P.S.  See you on Friday.