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Assignment Motherhood

May 21, 2020 by Monica 1 Comment

I’ll start with a few confessions: it always seems to break down any walls between writer and reader and sure as heck makes it easier to dive into some deep stuff. So please bear with me as I shed some layers. It’s not easy…

Confession 1: I am incredibly insecure and battle daily with the need to people please.

Confession 2: Being a mother has been one of the hardest, loneliest, confusing, and utterly exhausting things I have ever done. It has also been the most rewarding. And there lies the anomaly.

Its funny how painstaking it was so admit the first confession and bare my soul like that, but then while typing the second, I came completely undone.

Guys, this journey is not for the faint of heart.

I’ve always considered myself a bit of a wimp. Like, not tough at all… that’s actually what lead me to the problems surrounding acceptance and people pleasing!

Being a mother has made me rethink everything I thought I knew about human existence. These tiny humans are needy, and scrappy, and strong-willed, and energy-sucking and wild and wonderful and curious and loud and amazing, and slightly needy. Wait, did I already say that?

I’ve always been on the emotional side, but this, my friends has turned me into a full fledged hot mess.

I find it absolutely insane that you have to hand over your licence, and sign away your life to get a box of Advil Cold& Sinus at CVS, but the hospitals just GIVE us babies. We leave with them in our cars. And take them home. And have to try to keep them alive.

Are we ready? Do we have the temperament for it? Are we perfectly planned and prepped for all things that will come our way? Nope. Not in the least. I don’t care how many baby books you read or classes you take. Or even how cute that nursery is. ( And those are some strong words coming from me…) But being a parent is pure insanity. And NO ONE, not even your closest friends and family can truly prepare you for that.

You will never know what journey your children will take you on, either. Just when you feel like you’ve figured them out, they are in a new stage in life and their needs and feelings, likes and dislikes have completely changed. Without a single moment’s notice. And where you once felt in control and in charge and sufficient, you now feel weak, ineffective and useless.

That is tough.

I know wise ones around us try to tell us that we will be going through hills and valleys, and that Motherhood/parenting is all about seasons.

Well, I don’t know about you, but I feel like there’s been a cold frostbiting forever winter in my house that just won’t go away.

My mornings are chaos, my afternoons are mayhem, and bedtime is a huge fail.

I feel like I’m drowning, but yet swimming so very hard.

Where am I going wrong?

I feel like I’ve dedicated years to raising these little people with more love, than yelling. And I’ve try to model kindness, and self control and gentleness. But they seem to be picking on the bad parts of me: my nit-picking, my obsessiveness for perfection, my exasperated ” UGH” when things don’t go my way.

But then there are those other days. When you catch them helping a friend, or packing a lunch without being asked, or even giving you a hug for no reason at all.

Those are the time I want to remember.

But as I write those words, I realize how unreal that is. We will remember the hurt, and chaos and confusion. And the complete feeling of being so out of control that you might find yourself walking around your house clutching a barbie shoe, a soup spoon, and some scotch tape. And you have no idea where you picked them up or where they belong.

I have screwed up, forgotten dates, turned in things late, missed parties, and disappointed those around me. Constantly.

But I have loved my children.

At the end of the day, I may groan at heading up the stairs for the 14th time, for “one last kiss and hug,” but I pray my heart softens as I think of those who will never be asked that request, either for the first time or heartbreakingly never again. So I kiss them and hug them a little tighter.

Yes, my friends, we are in the trenches.

We wear our scars, and we are fighting on what seems to be nothing but hills. The valleys are no where to be seen.

For now.

But meanwhile, if you have lived your life with love at the forefront- it doesn’t matter how many times you and your children have fallen down in the day to day battles. I pray you all have the strength to always get back up. Because that is how wars are won.

I beg you to pour your love into your children day in and day out. They may roll their eyes at you, push you away, or even respond with silence. You may flop down on the couch over tired, unappreciated and ready to give up.

But isn’t that all proof that you are trying?

And at the end of the day, they will know they are loved.

And you, a job well done.

A Life Full of More

April 14, 2020 by Monica 1 Comment

Have you ever been a part of a surprise?

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A party, get together, or even a gift? It’s such an interesting part to play- whether you are the decoy, the distraction, the planner, or the recipient. There’s always more than meets the eye, and the hope is that all goes off without a hitch. But sometimes that’s not quite the case…

My poor husband. While we were dating, we had a standing Wednesday night date. Come Heck or high water, we made this date happen. It was a mid-week, dedicated expression of young love and how committed we were to overcoming the distance. ( about an hour between our locations in VA & MD)

One Wednesday afternoon, on my ride home from teaching, I received a phone call from my significant other, breaking our date.

Enter Monica pout.

No, a little Monica anger.

Nope, I am now recalling I was flat out furious.

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Where was his commitment and dedication? Didn’t he understand the incredible weight riding on that weekly date? It basically held us together. Like glue. Gorilla glue. A bandaid, even.

He was ripping off the metaphorical bandaid.

And it hurt.

And boy, did I chew him out for breaking that date. For over an hour.

He was very quiet on the phone and just kind of took the punches. I think that was making it worse. Although a time or two, I remember him asking me gently to please trust him.

Well, folks, approximately one month later- clarity, dedication, and commitment came.

In the form of a beautiful diamond ring.

That sweet boy had canceled our date to drive up to Philadelphia and have dinner with my parents. And ultimately, ask for my hand in marriage.

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I apologize weekly for the hard time I gave him. But before you go feeling too bad for hubby… it’s really only fair that I mention this is the same “funny guy” who two years prior -asked for my ring size, blindfolded me for the car ride, and pulled up to a bowling alley only to gift me with a personalized bowling ball.

Surprise!

Just. Sayin’.

Now, on to present day.

Easter Monday.

Last week was Spring Break- and even though we were restricted to staying home, I took the girls on a bit of a journey anyway.

We walked next to Jesus, celebrating and waving Palms.

We turned tables with him, angry, in the Temple.

We watched as Judas betrayed-chosing money over loyalty.

We were humbled as He washed the dirt and day off our feet.

We broke bread and drank wine with Him.

He told us He would be leaving soon, that it was part of a plan.

We prayed with Him in the Garden.

We fell asleep and woke to soldiers taking Him away.

And He said nothing to escape it.

He only told us to TRUST Him.

He was mocked, scourged, beaten and accused.

He stayed silent.

Then He was nailed.

And He breathed His last breath.

Why?

For them. For us.

The girls and I sank deep into the honest thoughts and actions of those disciples. His closest friends.

How forlorn they must have been. How confused and utterly hopeless they must have felt.

They didn’t know there was more.

But we do.

We have Hope.

We know that the “Good” in Good Friday was there indeed, amidst the pain and suffering.

But His closest friends only saw death.

What happened three days later brought more life and light into this world than death and darkness could EVER try to hide.

And that same HOPE is still with us today.

Each and every moment. Especially now.

Speaking from someone who dreads taking down the decorations and drowning in the post-holiday blahs… I truly believe this year is different.

The message of Easter did not get lost among my perfectly positioned pastels and pastries.

Those things weren’t around this time.

What was: a clear, dedicated, committed act of love.

And I felt it deeper in my heart than in any past Easter. ( and I’m a PK- so I’ve had my fair share of triumphant trumpets, layers of Lavenders and Lilles as well as epic egg hunts.

Maybe it was because my heart was desperate for a sign: a positive promise to overthrow the negative news.

Or maybe I have finally learned that brick and mortar buildings, dozens of decorations, and matching outfits do not an Easter make. It isn’t something that can be taken down and put back up every year.

It’s more.

It’s a promise kept. A sustaining feeling that can brighten the darkest of days, the most somber of circumstances.

If we let it.

Today can be the FIRST day of a season, a year, a life … full of Hope.

So, after you toss out the colored eggs, package up the bunnies, baskets and banners- resist the temptation to be sad. You won’t need them where you’re headed.

*My adaptation of a selection from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas*

“They’re just waking up! I know just what they’ll do!
Their mouths will hang open a minute or two
Then the FRIENDS AND THIER FAMILIES will all cry boo-hoo!

That’s a noise,” grinned THE DARK, “that I simply must hear!”
He paused, and THE DARK put a hand to his ear.

And he did hear a sound rising INSIDE THE HOME
It started in low, then started to ROAM.

But this sound wasn’t sad!
Why, this sound sounded glad!

Every FRIEND AND THIER FAMILY, the tall and the small,
Was singing without any presents at all!

He hadn’t stopped EASTER from coming! It came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And THE DARK, with his DARKNESS- JUST WATCHING THE GLOW,
Stood puzzling and puzzling. “How could it be so?

It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
It came without packages, boxes, or bags!”

He puzzled and puzzled till his puzzler was sore.
Then THE DARK thought of something he hadn’t before.

Maybe EASTER he thought, doesn’t come from a store.
Maybe EASTER, perhaps, means a little bit more!”

*******************************

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I’m no Dr. Seuss, but I gave it a whirl…

What does our future hold?

What will this all bring?

I cannot say exactly.

But I am certain of one thing:

Hope already won.

So push Dark out the door.

Cling to His Love,

And a Life full of More.

I am praying for you, dear friends.

Easy as 1, 2, 3

January 30, 2020 by Monica 2 Comments

My middle child, Mattie, received a magic kit for Christmas. It’s awesome. It has all these little trinkets that create wonder and inquisition for her, and in theory- her audience. I just love watching her perform- she’s a real drama queen- so no show is without its large scale production.

At one point during the first of such shows, I could clearly tell she was struggling- as in the ball was not exactly disappearing. To her credit- she just kept trying and trying, all while wearing her best smile and convincing me something amazing was about to happen.

Well, it didn’t.

I then decided to ask her, “Mattie, did you read the directions that came with the kit?” ( I’m a huge direction person- I’d like to think it goes hand in hand with my obviously HUGE sense of humility that I really don’t know much…)

She quickly responded with a very confident, “No.”

Okaaaaaay.

There was about another 5 more minutes that she struggled – and throughout that time, I got to see the ins and outs of the actual trick. So, when it came time for the BIG reveal- I smiled back at her and allowed myself to fall fully into her theatrical and magical debut. I was marveling at how she, too, was falling fully into her acting, believing 100% that she had unleashed powers beyond imagination.

I love children.

They really do encompass an innocence when it comes to believing. And I was re-reminded of this while watching Mattie and her simple yet constant “one, two, threeee!!!!!” Nothing like a good ol’ fashioned magic trick to showcase how easy it used to be and should be to “believe without seeing.”

Could it actually be that in my life, I am making things a lot harder than they should be? Harder than they were intended to be?

I pause here for a resounding, “YES!!!” from anyone who knows me.

Let’s quickly and very on the surface, evaluate how how I start a typical day over here in crazy town.

I wake up, well, do you actually get to say ” wake up” if you never really feel asleep?

For arguments sake, I’ll say I wake up-but we all know I haven’t slept since the 80’s.

No really, this is me at 7 am.

On a good day.

I never have been, nor will ever be, that mom who looks amazing at drop off. I wish I could say I rock a baseball cap and huge sunglasses well, like a celebrity when they go “au-natural” and are trying to be fashionably incognito -but even then- I’m pretty sure the kid’s school thinks there’s a homeless guy staying with us half the time.

But back to my lack of rest.

I have only recently made a huge mind-blowing connection with the fact that I can’t fall asleep or stay asleep with being a control freak. It may sound obvious to you- but I had always associated my insomnia with my creative juices flowing when it was finally quiet.

But, through the second go around of my weekly bible study’s book- my mind and heart were opened to what is truly missing in my life. And it’s not just a good set of ZZZ’s.

Faith.

Trust.

Peace.

Yup- turns out a lack in those babies is a surefire way to the no-snore-zone.

For me.

Why?

Oh, my friends… I’m so glad you asked….

It might be as easy as 1, 2, 3.

One- It’s DONE!

This, my friends, is referring directly to my inability to let go of the past. I hash out the parts of my day- things I’ve done and said- NOT done and NOT said- ugh, I’m actually exhausted just typing that out. But it’s true. 100%. I feel like I’m watching the unedited movie version of my past from the nosebleed cheap seats, and throwing popcorn every time something pops up that makes me embarrassed, confused or want to throw up.

If I would simply have more PEACE in what my day has brought: done and undone- said and unsaid- my head could possibly hit the pillow with a deeper sense of ” it is Good.” Not PERFECT, but Good. As in, how it should be.

And the reality is- there’s not a whole lot that can be changed or solved at 1 am, anyway.

On to Number Two- Go YOU!

I have been attempting to be more present in my life- on a daily basis. With technology and my ever growing addiction to signing up for things and staying busy-it makes it hard to Just Be. And Be HERE. And Be Here NOW.

The phrase Go YOU is also referring to being a cheerleader in people’s lives. My closest people. I want to listen, support, aid, guide, teach. But I can’t do it all. All the time. I need to put down the pen and clipboard a little more, and revisit my commitments. I want to be the best I can be. At those things. NOW.

And some times the best thing you can do is just Show Up.

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On to Number Three- You’re FREE!

In case you haven’t guessed it- this one relates to the future.

In hindsight and much agonizing reflection, I have come to terms with the fact that THIS part is what I struggle with the most. I DESPERATELY want to know what’s coming. I want to be prepared. I want to tweak it and shape it and form it into, well, what I want. I’d prefer to guarantee fewer worries. Fewer failures. For my husband. For my kids. For my friends. For me…

Bare with me as I make a connnection to my age old FAVORITE movie series as a child- Back to the Future.

Now, if you’re not going to take MY word for it- that having all the answers and seeing things written on newspapers 10 years ahead does NOT, in fact, bring peace, happiness and joy- than take it from Doc Brown and Marty McFly.

They’re time traveling experts.

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I’m convinced, thanks to these fine gentlemen who dared to dream and create the fluxcapacitor- that if I HAD all the answers, HAD all the things I hoped for, KNEW why and when things were happening… there would not be an increase in peace and joy in my life. Rather it could leave me with MORE questions, MORE wonders, and striving for MORE control.

( reminder- NOTHING good came from that Sports Almanac!!!!)

There simply needs to be MORE Trust.

**************

On the days when I’m finding it especially hard to understand, or Believe without necessarily seeing the writing on the wall… but I really want to…I feel like the little boy in the movie, The Polar Express.

Standing in the North Pole, in the presence of Santa Clause, but unable to actually see his face. Sweet bells are ringing all around, and yet he is also deaf to their harmony. He spies a lost bell, fallen by his bedslipper, picks it up and rings it. Only to hear nothing.

He sees the others rejoicing, singing, experiencing -sure of it all.

He wants to trust that its there.

Mustering up all his credence, he firmly closes his eyes and mutters slowly, “okay…okay…” Followed by, “I believe…I believe…I…BELIEVE.”

He shakes the bell again, assuredly releasing its sweet victorious sound.

JOY.

And as the book states in its beautiful last line, “as it does for all who truly believe.”

*****************

When I hand up my future,

I am Free.

Free from fear.

Free from perfection.

Free from knowing it all.

Free from holding it all.

Free to experience the sights and sounds of peace and joy.

One step at a time.

One day at a time.

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And now I’m Free to rest.

So, my sweet friends- could it, should it, be that easy?

Life isn’t exactly like a child’s beginner magic set.

But, as I tuck my children in to bed at night- and watch them calm and cozy, not a worry in the world; happy with the day behind them and excited for what’s up ahead next… is there any harm in having a little more faith and believing like a child?

Confidence- in my past. (1)

Assurance -in my future. (3)

Seems like the only thing left to do is to go live my life.

And live it well! (2)

Let’s do this :O)

**************************

God Help Me

by Plumb

There is a wrestling in my heart and my mind
A disturbance and a tension I cannot seem to drive
And if I’m honest, there’s quite a bit of fear
To sit here in this silence and really hear You

What will you ask of me?
Will I listen to your voice when you speak?

Help me to move
Help me to see
Help me to do whatever you would ask of me
Help me to go
God help me to stayI’m feeling so alone here
And I know that You’re faithful but I can barely breathe
God help me

Sometimes things, they are black and white
Sometimes they are not and it leaves us torn inside
And in the middle we are left to wonder
Who we are, what You want and where we’re going
Oh such a mystery
I don’t always understand
But I believe

Help me to move
Help me to see
Help me to do whatever you would ask of me
Help me to go
God help me to stay
I’m feeling so alone here
And I know that You’re faithful but I can barely breathe
God help me

I don’t know the future
It’s one day at a time
But I know I’ll be okay with Your hand holding mine
So take all my resistance
Oh God I need Your grace
One step and then the other show me the way
Show me the way

Help me to move
Help me to see
Help me to do whatever you would ask of me
Help me to go
God help me to stay
I’m feeling so alone here
And I know that You’re faithful but I can barely breathe
Oh God I can barely breathe
Oh I can barely breathe
God help me

Source: LyricFindSongwriters: Tiffany Arbuckle Lee / Christa Wells / Luke SheetsGod Help Me lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Mike Curb Music

When God Sends a Sleigh

December 6, 2019 by Monica 4 Comments

Years ago, when I lived in Maryland, in a house full of fabulously fun teachers, I often walked to the nearby mall and grocery stores whenever I needed anything. It was great exercise and I loved being outside. However, time and time again, I would get lost in the land of shopping- grabbing Costco-sized items and making myself proud with all the steals and deals. It was at the moment when I pushed my cart outside that I realized my only transportation getting me home was my pair of Uggs.

Now, you may be saying to yourself, there’s absolutely NO WAY I did this more than once.

Uhmm. Sorry to lay it to you straight, but I’m just that out of it sometimes.

Image result for oops i did it again gif

So, back to my story.

I mustered up the hand strength, and grabbed my 8 bags of groceries and started off through the woods. I sometimes had to stop a time or two, but mostly I decided that if I kept going, ignoring my blue fingers and screaming shoulders, I could make it. I always did make it home. And I prided myself on never getting caught struggling in the streets. Until the one day I got caught.

I had been ignoring Adam’s texts dinging in my pocket – OBVIOUSLY I had no way of reaching my phone. And he knew I was out shopping. Being the smart lad that he is, he had spun by the house, seen my car and then FIGURED I’d try something less than intelligent like walking home with 20 lbs of groceries.

Can you see why we are married?

I’ll never forget the the snicker I heard coming from his car window as he slyly pulled up behind me. I swear he had been trailing me for half a mile and just let me suffer.

But here’s the kicker. As relieved as I was to see him, I didn’t let him help me.

I gave him some excuse about how my fingers would fall off if he tried to un- bag them with his manly ways, and I convinced him that I could make it the 2 blocks home. And he reluctantly agreed. But not without trailing me… with more snickers. And some Country music.

And then we got to the house, and I was so mad at myself with the worst pins and needles in my hands EVER, and I think I remember yelling at Adam for something about never being there for me.

I feel I should give you the time now to give me some kind of virtual slap.

I needed it.

I was so bent on being independent and relying on my own strength that it blinded my judgement. And didn’t allow the help to actually help.

It amazes me sometimes that I could be that dense.

So very, very long ago.

Oh wait. I’m still doing it.

I am still putting 20 lbs of groceries in my hands, not literally any more- THANK HEAVENS I’VE LEARNED ONE THING- but figuratively.

I still think I will be given some kind of magazine worthy award if my house is super clean, or my laundry is all caught up, if I chaperone a field trip, or buy all my kid’s favorite foods for lunch and dinner.

But the reality is, I’m not not being given any earthly award, or bonus points for those things. And the problems begin if I put all my hope, faith and joy IN those things.

Each of them can be taken away at a moments notice.

The house gets trashed in 10 minutes after the kids get home from school.

The laundry quickly doubles and overflows.

I can’t help out a school anymore for one reason or another.

And suddenly, the girls have changed their minds on what flavor mac n cheese they like- so now I have 25 boxes they won’t touch.

The bags are breaking.

I can’t hold them anymore.

The hope, faith and joy are gone.

But it isn’t meant to be that way.

I heard in a Sunday sermon that we are ” hardwired for hope.” I like that saying. We as a people, are certainly hopeful. Especially this time of year. But what are we hoping in? Where is our faith?

Christmas “miracles”?

The fact that my kids will behave and cherish the spirit of giving and be changed by the Season?

That my house will emulate what I see on Instagram with bloggers that have perfectly flocked trees in every room?

That traditions will stay the same… and that even though my kids are growing up, they will still want to make me happy by build gingerbread houses, decorate cookies and singing Jingle Bells in the back seat on the way to school?

Or that the never ending list of to-do’s comes to a halt and my husband and I can enjoy a quiet evening together by the tree?

The Little Somethings can be great, too.

They can turn into Big Somethings.

Things don’t always have to be what we Hope for and expect.

Only one thing can be truly worthy of our Christmas HOPE.

I’ll leave you with a story I heard a character tell recently in a Hallmark Christmas movie… it is a spin-off of “The Drowning Man” story you may have heard at church.

***************************************

There once was a man caught in a snowstorm. He hunkered down in his house and prayed that God would save him.

There was a knock at the door, and it was a stranger driving a sleigh. The stranger told him to get in.

But the man replied, “I’m waiting for my God to save me, I have Faith.”

So the stranger left.

The snowstorm continued.

There was another knock at the door.

It was another stranger driving a sleigh. The stranger told the man to get in.

But the man replied again, ” I’m waiting for my God to save me, I have Faith.”

So the stranger left.

As the snowstorm worsened, there was a pounding at the door.

It was a stranger driving a sleigh. The stranger asked the man get in.

But the man replied a third time. ” I am waiting for my God to save me, I have Faith.”

Well folks, the man died in the snowstorm.

And when he reached Heaven, he quickly asked God why he didn’t save him.

God calmly replied, “I sent you three sleighs…what else did you need?’

***********************

Did God send Adam to scoop me and my broken fingers up 15 years ago?

Possibly. And probably.

I do wish I could have a do-over for how I reacted. But I can’t.

Does He continue to send “sleighs” each day, without me even noticing?

I’m 100% sure of it.

My only suggestion: when God sends you and me a sleigh, or two… Maybe we might want to push aside our pride, foolishness and imagination on what we think we’re waiting for… and take a step in.

After all, it’s the only sleigh that can truly and HOPE-FULL-y carry it all.

Merry, Merry Christmas to you all.

From my heart to yours.

Turbulence

October 8, 2019 by Monica 4 Comments

I recently had the privilege of flying out to see my sister while she was vacationing in Maine. I was pumped about the trip- 3 days of bonding time without the kiddies, in such a scenic spot. I even brought my Thanksgiving turkey pants so I could stuff myself with lobster.

But I don’t love to fly. Never have.

In order to combat that fear, I surround myself with as many creature comforts as I can to take my mind of this idea of possibly crashing. No, seriously, this is how I think.

So, I wore my comfiest clothes, so I wouldn’t be cold on the plane, I packed really good snacks from home – so I wouldn’t break the bank at the little newsstand store ( I am such a mom,) BUT I always splurge on an extra large warm fru-fru coffee drink. ( which is not always the best idea to have that much caffeine..on a plane. Just remember that for later) But I think I look very put-together and cool when I’m carrying a coffee. Like it says “see, I am so put-together, that I had time to grab a coffee- not just one from my house in a to-go- mug… but from a real, live coffee shop…so there.”

I brought a book to entertain myself; I am ready to independently read, but if someone happens to strike up a conversation with me- I have a bunch of one liners and interesting facts in my back pocket ready to go.

I do consider myself to be the ultimate airplane seat buddy.

Well, fast forward to actually being on the plane:

We are all buckled in, I am paying incredible attention to the instructions in the pamphlet in the seat back in front of me as well as by the 100 year old stewardess. ( I even give a quick smirk to my seat buddy- who is otherwise immersed in his phone during such important information – like I am going to save his life in supposed emergencies b/c I am paying such excellent attention to where the exits are…)

All my creature comforts are put away- I am a super rule follower- and am super distracted by the fact that across the isle a man in a suit has not ceased tinkering on his laptop and I am convinced that his Wi-Fi is going to interrupt the pilot’s signals from the main tower and we are going to crash . Because of him.

Alas, I try not to judge or hyperventilate as I tighten my grip on the soft outer layer of my outfit, currently being used as an adult blankie.

The pilot starts speaking lots of altitude facts, and I am attempting to find comfort in his calm and steady voice. It’s a nice voice, He probably leads a Yoga class when he’s not flying. He seems like he knows what he’s doing. That’s good.

5 minutes into the flight:

Okay. we are taking off- oh gosh I really don’t like this…

I wish I had a window seat, so I could see…

Wait, maybe I don’t want to see.

No, I like knowing where I am.

No surprises.

Ah, my stomach feels weird.

It’s probably better that I look straight ahead.

No window.

Gosh, Adam is right- I am indecisive.

We are up in the air now.

Phew. We’re still alive.

10 minutes into the flight:

We are “cruising” now- although the choice of aviation vocabulary has me puzzled- I sure don’t feel like I’m relaxing in a convertible, seaside, with the salty wind blowing in my hair.

I feel like we are 30, 000 feet up in the sky and might plummet any minute now. I am anything but relaxed. In fact, my heart is beginning to race… nerves… oh- and that extra large coffee…

15 minutes into the flight:

The pilot has given permission to take out toys and such- so I grab my book. Hands are shaking a bit. Jeepers what did they put in that Dunkin’ Latte?

It’s a book on parenting, so I’m pretty sure my seat buddy is going to think I’m a great parent just sprucing up my already great parenting skills.

25 minutes into the flight:

I’m super engrossed in my parenting book- the funny thing is… wait for it… it turns out I’m not such a great parent…

So, as I am head deep in my book- studying like I have an exam coming up, foot steadily tapping up and down, my death grip begins to soften.

And just as I begin to sit back a bit and I uncurl my sweaty fingers from the spine and covers of the book, we hit a pocket of air and the plane bumps.

Now, out of the corner of my eye, as if dislodged from the slight turburlence, I see the little homemade rainbow-colored bookmark that Quinn drew for me- starting to sliiiiip in slow motion from the pages of the book.

******Now, in order for you to understand the insane irony of this upcoming situation, you must know something about me. ******

I have terrible reflexes, and they have honestly only gotten worse over the years. For instance, do you remember the card game, “Slap Jack?” When everyone wold hit the table every time a Jack showed up in the deck? Well, imagine Monica slapping the table 30 seconds after the Jack was spotted. Got the visual?

So, back to the plane ride.

As the Quinn-draw-rainbow bookmark is slooooooly sliiiiiping out of the pages of my book- the extra large coffee has hit me 100% and I ninja-like LUNGE after the falling memento. I managed to grab it before it fell to the floor, but now awkwardly find my hand in my seat buddy’s lap.

Yup.

That happened.

He quickly glared at me. How dare, he right? Just kidding.

I returned my hand to its proper place on my side, turned the darkest shade of crimson and mumbled an apology. I pray he heard me. I then quickly threw my head back into my parenting book.

Feeling pretty terrible as a parent and now as a human being – I remember that I chose the wrong deodorant this morning. I picked the one that smells good but not the one that works.

Ugh…how much longer is this flight…

30 minutes into plane ride:

The beverage/ snack service is beginning,

It has now dawned on me that I need to go to the bathroom.

Of course.

Darn coffee.

I’ll wait. I can wait. I’m good at waiting….I have three kids.

Why AM I always waiting?

My kids should be better at listening…

Well maybe it’s that I should be better at parenting…

It’s probably a bit of both…

Kinda depends on the day…

…. Oh, right- that’s why I’m reading this book…

because there’s a crazy person in my head.

Who has to go to the bathroom.

I feel sorry for my husband.

40 Minutes into the flight:

The snack/beverage cart has left and I now have the world’s smallest bag of pretzels and some Ginger Ale in a plastic shot glass.

Why did I get a drink you ask?

Because I’m a giant pushover and have trouble saying “no” to people. Even complete strangers.

I totally practiced saying “No thank you…” while I saw the cart coming closer and closer. But when the 100 year old stewardess asked me if I wanted anything to drink , my hands were clammy and I blurted out, “SURE!” as if we’d be best friends now that I said yes.

I have serious issues.

45 Minutes into the flight:

I’m back reading my parenting book to distract me when I start to get hungry and my home snacks are not cutting it. Now I think I know how my kids feel…

I spot my miscroscopic bag of pretzels under my magazine on the tray table.

Yum. I do love a pretzel.

Wait, how the heck to you open this thing?

Oh, here’s the little cut tab…

*****Spoiler alert: its about to get awkward again….******

Just as I break into the minuscule pretzel bag ( with a caffeinated surge ) I realize- a little too late-that I am opening it from the bottom.

Hundreds of tiny salt pieces plus broken pretzels fly all over the place, including all over my seat buddy.

How on earth did they fit all of that in a tiny little bag?

I was contemplating this when I noticed my seat buddy had actually turned to me this time and was glaring. Not a side glare. A full on scowl.

I am going to throw up.

I don’t like it when people are mad at me.

I KNOW I said sorry this time, quite loudly and repeatedly, but for some reason it didn’t seem to be helping.

It probably did not help that my attempt to clean up my tray table, which was an aggressive and furious sweeping motion, is simply sending more salt and broken pretzels his way, littering his tray table and lap.

Dear Heavens, help me.

*************************************************

Now, I share this ridiculous story with you so that do ( hopefully) laugh a little.

But also to share that no matter how you “prep” for your day or plan an experience- there will more than likely be some bumps– ups and downs. A bit of “turbulence” you didn’t see coming.

And you may even explode and fall to pieces just like my misconstrued bag of pretzels.

But please try to remember one thing: there’s always tomorrow.

******************************************

Back to School: What’s not on the list…

August 9, 2019 by Monica 2 Comments

I just returned from a long walk.

Big woop, huh?

But this walk wasn’t my typical neighborhood, or even paved path kinda trek.

I decided to venture off the beaten path, literally, and adventure out on a nearby mountain bike path.

I normally wouldn’t even think about walking outside at 2 pm in the afternoon- it’s far too hot in the August sun. But I just had get a breather.

My husband kindly offered to watch the kids and referred me to the course- but advised me of the heat, and proceeded to warn me not to get lost.

Thanks, captain obvious.

Seriously, though- thank you sooooo much, hunny. I needed the break.

So, I followed his directions, parked the car and found the trail. The tall grass surrounding the path was bending this way and that as the gentle breeze blew.

It was kind of Heaven.

Blue skies, birds chirping, grasshoppers hopping.

So nice.

I had walked quite a while before even taking a sip of my water-

“This is not bad. I can totally do this. I am not going to overheat, or get lost…pshhhh.” I kept repeating that to myself, between singing encouraging verses of songs from the radio.

And I didn’t get overheated or lost.

Until I did.

I got to a sign- held up by a rusty chain that read, “Trail closed. Do not enter.”

What the what…

Okay, so I’ll just head back the way I came…

Sounds simple enough, right?

spoiler alert: I was actually going back the right way, but I am such a head case ( I saw this old sunken, vine covered house, and it gave me the creeps)-so I gave myself a panic attack… so here is the play by play of that…

********************

I start heading up a hill.

Wait, did I even walk down this hill?

I head to the right a bit.

But, did I originally come from the left?

I pull out my cell phone.

I remember that “Big Brother” thing where it knows where my parked car is- so I enter that and hit “go”.

After walking approximately 20 feet, Siri proudly announces I have arrived at my destination.

UGHHHHHH, Siri.

I enter into a shady area.

I trip over a huge rock in the middle of the path.

And over another one.

Okay, I definitely do not remember those rocks. Or those trees. Or that blade of grass. Nope, not ringing a bell.

Where the frig did that “Beware of Snakes” sign come from??/??/

I am suddenly having a hot flash.

Where’s that breeeze?

There’s a lot of rustling in the bushes.

I’ts probably a hundred hungry snakes and their babies.

There’s weird squeaking and loud buzzing and frequent flapping that are making me stop and stare at everything.

My heart is racing.

A leaf geeeeeently falls out of the tree and caresses my sweaty back and lands between my sports bra and my tank top.

TOOOOtally thought it was a ginormous spider attacking me, so naturally I SCREAM.

The kind of scream you hear in the movies. In the woods.

I normally would have fainted at this point- I’m slightly prone to fainting…

But I just picked up the pace. After I aggressively wiggled and wrestled the stinking leaf out of my shirt…

I have made it out of the shady area, and begin following the path ahead of me now. Until I get to any kind of fork in the road.

I am second guessing everything.

So I close my eyes, and breathe.

I can do this, I start repeating again. A few words from the radio come back to me…

I lift my head and open my eyes.

I see a large, shiny object- peaking out from the dark, overgrown greenery.

I remember seeing this! The old Silo!

Ah, I think I parked near it!

There’s a pep in my step now.

As I get closer to the Silo, it’s such a beautiful sight,. But I do now realize that I did not, in fact, park there.

BUT, I can hear the zipping and zooming of other cars, and it helps me remember that I parked near a major road.

So, I followed the road.

And eventually, I found my car.

Just as the gentle breeze picked back up…

You cannot begin to see the sweat in this picture….

Now, what on EARTH does this have to do with school and your child?

I’ll tell you…

We’ve been spending a heck of a lot of time searching and hunting for the perfect supplies to hold in their their new backpacks.

So, they have the right materials… but do they have the right TOOLS?

What else should be on a school “supply” list?

Dictionary.com defines “supplies” as ” furnishing or providing a person or establishment with what is lacking or needed…”

Will our children face trials, tests, bumps, heartbreaks and hardships unknown?

Some days, could they feel lost and out of control?

You betcha.

And we cannot prevent them from it all.

But you can supply them.

Not just with the stuff on the list…

No amount of glue will heal a hurting heart.

But a smile can.

No technology or GPS device will actually get them to the desired goal. ( Seriously, Siri…. ugh)

But YOU can.

You can provide them with…

Encouragement.

Lift them up. Every good comeback story has a character that pushes the MC down, spits, throws dirt, and meanly states that they can never be what ever it is that they are dreaming to be. But those unlikable characters and hard moments are crucial. It produces determination and grit.

So dust ’em off, show them how to get back out there and remind them THEY CAN. And even when they can’t, He can. NEVER ever, give up.

Believe in them, especially when they don’t believe in themselves.

Image result for i can do small things in a great way

They want to try out for the lead role in Les Mis, but have never sung a single note outside the shower? Sure, it’s a stretch -and they may end up working on the set. But cheer them on, and gently nudge them with the idea that now they have a new chance to shine. Just as there are no small roles in acting, there are no small roles in life.

And last, but not least, point them toward the light.

It may not be their final destination, but it will keep their heads up on the journey. ( think shiny Silo :O)

* and it doesn’t hurt to sneak a little kindness into their pockets…

Soon they’ll be walking in to the classroom with of all the latest, greatest, and requested stuff on that list.

But don’t forget to pack them full of what really counts…

This post is dedicated to my sweet Jane.

Summertime & Growing Pains

June 27, 2019 by Monica 1 Comment

I have heard this from the bible for almost 40 years… but only now do I really know what it means… ( stay tuned)

It has been 2 weeks since school let out and something pretty obvious has just hit me. My kids don’t really like each other. Well, not at this moment… and I have spent the past week being pretty upset about it. But then, upon slight reflection of my own childhood- it occurred to me that this is pretty normal for siblings.

Image result for bride wars movie fight gif

My kids, and I- for that matter, have been on a totally different schedule for the last 9 months- a school schedule. One that allotted for individual time within the safe zones of classrooms, peers, projects, and priorities. Now, we are navigating through the waters of Summer- together. And that seems to be the pinnacle of this quest. We are ALL TOGETHER.

Now, for some reason, I thought this would be a seamless, smooth transition. But alas, there has been more hair pulling, tattling, tantrums, and time outs than the past 9 months combined. Enter the feeling of frustration and parent fail….

Image result for Frustrated at Work Meme

It made me think back to my own childhood when my younger brother, older sister and I would be asked to ” play nicely” together. Now, I have decided that many of us look back on our childhood with somewhat rose colored glasses- which gives me hope for my own children… but if I REALLY remember what actually happened in those moments- I’ll notice that we weren’t all that different…

A quick example: My sister and I shared a room for most of our youth, and one day she decided we’d “play nicely” … in a new and improved layout that included duct-taped perimeters on the bedroom carpet. She had access to the bathroom, dolls, toys, books, and of course-the bedroom door. I had the closet. She stated that these were the new play areas and to have fun. Then she left. Out the door. That I couldn’t touch.

Or the times when my younger brother asked us to go outside and play basketball with him. And our answer was always, …”We’ll be right out…”

Now you may ask what’s wrong with that?

Here’s the thing… we never went out.

But don’t worry. My sister went off to college, and he and I eventually did play… a ton!!!

Image result for Skeleton Waiting GIF of a Long Time

So, its all good, right?

My attempted point is this- Summer can be tough. On everyone.

When you throw everyone into the mix and hope everyone just politely and calmly gets along, it might just be the opposite- a teensy bit of chaos-until things can work themselves out.

Like when your kids completely forget how to put away things, clean up things, not break things and how to close the fridge?????

Ah, yes- growing pains… “the stresses and strains attending a new project or development…” according to Merriam Webster Online.

We all get ’em.

But how can we survive them?

I have no tried-and-true answers, but simple suggestions based on what is percolating over here at our place.

Suggestion 1: Throw out all the expectations you had.

Sometimes your worst enemy when approaching something can be unreal expectations- and this is coming from a serial Hallmark enthusiast. I find that I get utterly frustrated when things don’t go as “planned.” But some of the best plans are actually unplanned.

Take a lesson I learned last summer…

Fool me twice: A cautionary tale

Suggestion 2: Don’t compare your day/week/month/season to anyone else.

This one is a true struggle for me. It’s not just social-media, it’s everything. Should my kids be in camp? Are they supposed to be eating Popsicles 4 times a day? Should they go see the new movie in the Theater? The neighbors just went on a family bike ride through 4 different state parks… we could try….

Go your own way. Your family is unique. And has its own needs and wants. Don’t worry about what everyone else is doing this summer. Gather ideas,”like” people’s photos, but don’t get down in the dumps because you aren’t keeping up with the Joneses. NO one is, really.

Suggestion 3: Stay focused but flexible.

Similarly to suggestion 1, it’s good to have ideas- but helpful to be open to new ones. Kids absolutely thrive on structure- some more than others. And I am certainly not suggesting you just coast through Summer like a California surfer… but it’s also the time of year to push dinner back an hour or two if there’s some serious pool fun going on. Or bust out the pillows and blankets for a movie day ( yes- a whole day!) if everyone is cranky… which leads me to #4…

Suggestion 4: Take breaks within your break. Seriously.

Remember that distance makes the heart grow fonder? Well, that’s pretty “tried-and-true”… and the same can be for a family that is suddenly spending loads of time together. The way we have survived the past couple days is by a QUIET HOUR. In separate places. They need it. I NEED IT. I’m catching up on laundry, doing a 15 minute workout video, writing! or even catching some ZZZZ’s myself… and it’s just 60 minutes. But it’s a glorious time to reboot. For everyone.

Suggestion 5: Love ’em while you got ’em.

I’m not going to hit you with statistics of how you only have 17 summers with your kids before they’re off and gone… but I will leave you with this thought. I fell asleep the other night thinking about how my girls are getting to the ages ( almost 5,7 & 9) where for much of the day, I find myself needed less and less. They can fix their own breakfast now, dress themselves, reach things, brush hair, play games, even swim at the pool. But although they don’t always need me… they still want me. I know that this will someday change, and for my oldest, I fear it is coming sooner than I’d like. So amidst the chaos and calamities, flaws and failures of my mothering- somehow, they are still reaching out. For my hand, for my help, for my heart.

And I’ll take it.

So, back to the Bible. “Yoke” comes from a Greek term, zugos, which can be translated as “pair of scales.” In a devotion I read recently that dove deeper into this Matthew 11:29 verse, the author goes on to enlighten by writing that Jesus was more than likely telling his followers that they were measuring wrong… determining worth wrong…comparing wrong…sizing things up… a little bit wrong. This spoke to my “working harder not smarter” way of going about life. And things always feel so heavy…

By comparison, Jesus is offering us HIS yoke, HIS way of measuring life. And it’s one with a lot more grace, forgiveness, joy, love, balance and REST. We may have more dirty dishes and dirty clothes piling up, but possibly more room for living.

So maybe the differences between painful limbs and pains in life aren’t all that far apart.

Try leaning in and laying the heavy stuff down.

Happy summer, friends.

Below are a few schedules I might tweak and try in this “not perfect summer, but one where we have fun, learn to love each other more and make some cool memories.”

I hope you find these helpful!

Marathons for Walkers

May 13, 2019 by Monica 1 Comment

I went for a walk the other day and you know what I love?

Intersections.

Not necessarily that you have to make a decision on where to go next, Lord knows I can’t make a decision worth a lick. Ask anyone who knows me. I’m like the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz…

Rather I appreciate that it seems to give permission to pause. A much needed pause.

I tend to get super intimidated by long walks on long paths with no seeming end in site. No place to make the appropriate, “I’m fine, really” break…

I like to lean up against a tree, stop sign or even the occasional but randomly placed bench and huff and puff.

The other day was no exception. I was leaning up against a light-post sucking down a bottle of water, when I heard some fast paced steps behind me. I turn to see a bouncy jogger bouncing up and down next to me. While I had chosen to stop and rest at the corner, this individual had kept her cardio going and continued to bounce while the light stayed red. I thought I could TRY to look the part, she might be on to something, so I started a light bounce myself. Well, it only took 30 seconds of a few half bounces before the bottle of water swooshing inside my gut gave me jabbing cramps and I was now bent over heaving with strange sounds. The two of us could not have been more opposite. She gave me a weird look and darted across the road when the light changed to green where as I looked like I needed an oxygen tank and a wheelchair to get me anywhere.

And that my friends, is how I feel as a mother these days.

I have re-written this post a few different times. The first time I attempted a bit of a parenting DIY. Ha! It ended up being a bit of a joke when I realized how ridiculous it sounded that I would even begin to advise people in this area.

Then I mulled over it, and upon rejection of supposed “How Tos”- I began feeling quite bad about my current state of mothering and proceeded to eat a lot of ice cream.

Image result for eating ice cream and crying gif

So I attempted another version. Me and my pint of ice cream divulged into more a long winded diary entry where I vented about all my failures and faults as a matronly individual. I read it back out loud and realized no one wants to read that.

So, I let it sit a while. I paused. Hence why I am finishing this post today… the day AFTER Mother’s Day. :O)

Back in high school, when we were learning how to type- we practiced with a keyboard game that had a runner jumping over hurdles. When you succeeded at the home keys, or stated set of letters, your virtual runner soared into the air, breezing through the obstacles before him/ her.

On the flip side, when you punched an incorrect key, your runner would fall and make this “oof” sound. It was kinda of funny. Actually, it was really funny. I once got in trouble for making him “oof” for 5 minutes straight.

I am feeling a bit like there’s someone punching the wrong keys these days. I see that hurdle coming, I feel like I’m kinda sorta ready for it- but then next thing you know I’m laying flat with an “oof” sound.

This past week, with teacher appreciation and May’s calendar exploding with dates to remember, things to attend…I saw some serious hurdles approaching.

But what I also realized was that when I SEE those uphills and obstacles ahead, I tend to LOSE perspective quickly.

I heard in church yesterday that, “disaster can often occur when there is a loss of perspective.” My pastor went on to say that many airplane fatalities have resulted from pilots unable to see the horizon ahead, therefore losing their perception on where they actually are in relation to the ground and sky. Inevitably ending in a crash…
Boom. What a visual. And it was exactly what I needed to hear.

When we are headed into the trenches, we often think we are alone, that the problems are bigger than we can handle and that there is no end in sight.

Sounding familiar to any parents? Any person out there?

In my life, the term “Hills and Valleys” can appropriately describe my day to day.

The battle JUST won can frequently yield little to no rewards on the next encounter with life.

JUST when I have conquered something, had a little victory, succeeded in some small area- the very moment around the corner has a cartoon roadrunner waiting to toss an ACME anvil on me.

Last Monday:

Obstacle: Buy all teacher appreciation supplies in 4 hours

Race prep: I had mapped out my route and memorized 4 different teacher surveys. I was ready.

Race route: Michael’s, Target, Dollar Store, Home Depot ( quickly for Adam) back to the Dollar Store and finishing at Walmart

Race results: NAILED IT… grabbed everything I needed to get through the first couple days and even sorted the supplies by teacher on the dining room table with cute printed out labels from Pintrest.

Image result for pinterest teacher appreciation gifts

Ready for the children to help.

I felt on top of the world.

The feeling continued throuought the day, and even into the kid’s bedtime.

I flopped down on the couch, ready to reward myself with some Hallmark, when Autumn sauntered quietly into the room. She was holding a notebook entitled, “My Days, My Dreams.”

She handed it to me and whispered “I just wrote something new in here. Would you like to read it?”

I love that she is my little writer, so I happily agreed. She snuggled in next to me and opened to this page.

https://app.box.com/s/oszbzrzhah80rgvsrc0aktt6a652j9i7

Insert heartbreak.

I looked at her and with instant tears, I apologized.

She smiled a half sleepy smile, and hugged me again. She said it was okay, and then sauntered slowly back upstairs.

What had I done?

I thought I was the best mom in the world. THE WORLD. For a few hours at least…

And then I saw this.

I let her down. In her exact words, I “forgot.”

I was running around like a crazy woman, attempting to properly and Pintrest-worthily “Thank” every Tom & Sally.

I “oofed.” And I was laying flat.

And after an hour of ugly crying, and Adam’s repeated “You are a good mom…” I went to bed, head pounding and heartbroken.

I was certainly beginning to listen to the voices in my head saying “you can’t”…

But I woke up the next morning, (popped some Advil followed by strong coffee) gave Autumn an extra big hug and told her I loved her. A lot.

And she bounded off to school, cast and all.

Kids are crazy resilient.

I share this to help reiterate my own “full of faults” humanity, and encourage yours.

We are NOT PERFECT.

We forget, we mess up, we fall flat. We “ooof” all the time.

But just possibly…if we try to live our lives with love at the forefront, then maybe it doesn’t matter as much about how many times that we all fall down. I pray we all receive the strength to always get back up.

But do you know what I’ve decided? Your own children are your biggest fans. To them you are a super hero who is busy soaring high one moment and then falls flat the next.

But isn’t that all proof that you are trying?

Marathoners tell their families and friends to bring their A-game with signs and fog horns to the toughest part of the race. Why? To keep them going. To remind them how far they’ve come and how close they are to the end. To give them Perspective.

Who doesn’t need a cheering squad?
A pep rally?
A hug?
A smile?
We all do.

And life will not be without it’s hills and valleys. The tough times are inevitable. Especially as parents. Watching your children navigate through these dark places is downright dreadful. But please remind yourself and those you love-
That you are never alone.
The battles you face are not forever.
It will be worth it all in the end.
Every tear,
Every pain,
Every hurdle,
Every heartbreak.
He promises.

Go on & finish this race. 💜

I’m not the marathon running type- in fact, I’m waiting on my 0.0 bumper sticker to come in…

But look for me on the sidelines, at the closest intersection, leaning up against the stop sign… cheering you on. Every day.

Mend or Mold…Spring Cleaning for the Soul

March 21, 2019 by Monica 1 Comment

You know what I did the other day?

I cleaned out my closet.

Nothing glamorous.

Nothing exciting.

But it was shockingly reviving.

Like a extra shot of espresso in my otherwise already milky, sugary version of daily coffee.

And why was it was so refreshing?

Because I let go.

Like REALLY let GO.

I have always wanted a fun girl’s night with lots of champagne, preferably an 80’s montage and the sound advice of Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda to help me discern what should stay and what should go.

But I gave up on that Sex In The City dream a while ago… and have been putting off a real good detox.

I suppose I’ve been convincing myself that my post-3-children new image would eventually squeeze back into my pre-3-children “former me” attire.

Ha.

Not so much.

So today I did it.

I played my own 80’s montage ( quite loudly, I must add) and steadily sipped my extra hot coffee and tossed things to the side.

And it felt GOOD.

For my soul.

Spring is awesome.

It brings beauty.

It brings warmth.

It brings clarity.

It brings new life.

But it doesn’t have to only be an environmental change.

The change can be within you.

Clear out the cobwebs, toss aside the negativity.

Replace it with sunshine.

Get rid of things that don’t raise you or OTHERS UP.

I’ve been working on a little something called “Mend or Mold.”
I’ll explain more about it a minute, but first- an example…

Quinn woke me up from a dead sleep the other night and I begrudgingly helped her find her teddy and turned on her nightlight, etc. As I returned to the room, I frantically fluffed and folded back those sheets as if to make room in our bed for my freshly flown wings straight from Heaven.

Now folks, I share this with you, and attempt to paint such a vivid picture – not you impress you with my incredibly skillful Hollywood- bound acting abilities.

Or to even simply highlight what a true saint I am…( hardly!)

But rather to add that, believe it or not, I actually practiced some self control that night. Amidst my frustration that I was NOT sleeping and my husband was sound asleep the whole time, I choose NOT to say something about it.

I could’ve punctuated the scenario with a crass, not really whispering, “You’re welcome!” Or “Phew, glad THAT is fixed…”.

But I didn’t.
I chose to MEND.

By my lack of utterance.

Words are powerful things. Especially the ones that stay in our hearts, poisoning our passion, productivity, and even being passed on to the people around us.

Words can lift up or tear down.
Our choice.

You know what’s easy?
Being mean. And cynical, and full of judgment and negativity.
On the other hand- what’s hard?
Peace, patience, kindness, gentleness , and positivity.

Working on this house together with my husband has been completely eye opening.
It has shed light on the beautiful bones this house has at its very core- and it’s been a joy to doctor it to it’s full potential. I’ve loved working on projects with Adam- hand in hand- seeing the results of our hard work come to life before my eyes. Give me a paint brush, and I’m one happy girl.
But you know what else came to light?
That I’m a giant baby when it comes to waiting for things that are out of my control.

I revealed a bit ago the joy of my new basement craft room.
It was a LONG process- and my heart sings now.

Along the process, however, I found myself often “singing” to a different tune.

My husband would disappear for hours on end- blaring his power tools -shaking and rattling the house and all its foundation .
One day, he was down there so long and all I heard was the screeching of his skill saw and the steady pounding of his hammer to the loud beat of classic country- I was 100% convinced he was building an ark. He then emerged covered in sawdust from head to toe and sporting a proud smile across his face.

I naturally imagined what AMAZINGNESS I would behold as the girls and I scurried past him, barreling down the basement steps.

And I saw no change. No joke.

But in hindsight, I was only looking on the surface. And to that extent, the view was pretty sparse.
Enter Nancy Negativity to the party. And boy, she’s a hoot.
Encouraging me to constantly question the work being done, and when all
else fails-just voice a little comment unveiling my disappointment.

This, my friends, is MOLD.
Not mending.

Spreading slowly, and often times in the dark corners of my home & heart.

It starts with a single negative word, and before you know, it has taken over.

I try to picture those hard-working mice from Cinderella, mustering all their energy, effort and ingenuity to mend. They are stitching away, binding happiness and harmony all while humming.

There’s so much work that must be done to the foundation. Of our homes. And our hearts.

As much as it kills me, I just can’t go to Homegoods and decorate studded walls and copper pipes.
Work must be done first. The messy, mold – killing, sawdusty, basement kind.

And that takes time. And I can’t always SEE the progress everyday.

In a world of FOMO, and INSTA- everything- our waiting muscles are layered with lethargy. We honestly NEVER pause.

So friends, it WILL be an uphill battle if we start using them again – but it will be worth it. We could also use the prolongued waiting time to put on our big boy/ girl positivity pants. One leg at a time. Oooo. Those are tiggghhhtttt. Might have to do the tight jeans dance…..

Contrary to what we may think and feel during this pause in our lives- the world has not come to a halt. Things ARE happening. All around. Above & below.

Growth is occurring, and often in places we don’t see or expect. This is where FAITH comes in…

And if we practice this little exercise of Mend or Mold– a few moments here and there, we might just wake up one day- and the walls are up, the pipes are working, the mold has disappeared and it’s time to decorate.

Look around, friends.

While we were amidst Winter hustling and bustling, or even waiting patiently (good for YOU!!), there were awesome things being accomplished.

In the cold, in the dark, in the deep, in the quiet.

We couldn’t see it for months and months, and we felt like change would never occur. Some days it felt like the darkness and cold was never ending.

But Spring HAS come.

And of that, I am 100 % positive.

Stronger

January 25, 2019 by Monica Leave a Comment

How are those New Year’s Resolutions going?

Okay, while I just HAD to get those out of my system… let’s talk resolutions. Why ARE they are so hard to keep?

There are many theories out there, but I have a few of my own. And my ideas center around the simple, unarguable point that we do not like to struggle. And you have to really wrestle with yourself when starting off and ultimately attaining any kind of goal.

Grass roots of it? It’s going to hurt. And it won’t be fun.

This is the essence of my theory. I’m convinced when things get tough, hard, yucky, ugly, and flat out seemingly impossible- we quit. And by “we”, I am using the universal word for ME.

But let’s take the heat off of me for a quick sec ( phew, is it getting hot in here?)

And let’s dive into my children’s weaknesses… Yes. That will make me feel better for a few :O)

I welcomed in the New Year attempting to teach my children about losing & LIVE TV.
So many tears and fits over not “Guessing Who” first & why my husband I are clearly punishing them by subjecting them to all commercials.

I have a lot to learn with my parenting.

As I drive to Philly- my daughter claims she’s hungry.
I frantically reach into my purse- hoping to find a lint-free lifesaver or something.
After a few minutes of unsuccessful searching- I find myself coming up with excuses and kind words to ease her “pain”.
I finally snap out of it when I realize she’s 6 years old and quite capable of packing snacks for the car. And finishing her breakfast. To name a few.
When did I become such a softie? I mean, I’ve BEEN one… but I happily tell people I was a way nicer Kindergarten teacher than I am a mom.
But seriously-
Why didn’t I just tell my kid “ you’ll survive” – like I was told by my Mom and Dad a million times. And I miraculously DID survive.
Grumbling tummies.
Bumps and bruises.
Team losses.
Breakups.
Yup.
Survived em all.

My hat is off to my “tough love” upbringing.
It sent the message, loud and clear- that -truly “what doesn’t kill you will make you stronger.”

And it sure does.

If anyone asked you if you’d like to learn the HARD way or the EASY way- is there any instance where we would actually answer, “the hard way, please?”
But we HAVE to.
It creates drive, generates perseverance, ignites passion, finds purpose, and propels us into our unique paths.

We are not like anyone else.
We have so much to offer.

But will we ever know what we are made of, how far we can go- our true limitations- if we never fail? Fall? Flop?

But first- we must try.

And that, my friends, is a valuable lesson I learned in 2018.
I am a heck of a lot tougher than I ever knew.

Curl up- I’d like to share with you a few short stories @ my health.

But first- a few of my fears:

Jumping spiders, heights, dentist visits, shots, and basically being in any kind of pain I can’t control that doesn’t result in bringing a cute baby into the world.

Somewhere along the line, despite my past “survivor” mentality, I became more of a worrier* than a warrior. ( *If you ever get a chance, ask my brother or husband or any family member for that fact-how long I once stood on the ledge of a mountain side one day at the Lake…NOT jumping…)

As I blogged about months back, I was ridden with neck/back/shoulder issues resulting from old tennis/rowing/swimming injuries and basically my neurotic tendencies as a mom. ( I totally think I can still function on 2.5 hours of sleep…)

I underwent physical therapy to combat these uncomfortable new feelings, and it helped to an extent. Then the pain got worse. I called in for a cortisone shot, and quickly started panicking. Promised that I was allowed to take an anxiety medicine prior to the procedure, I was able to at least walk in to the appointment without fainting. Plus I had the support of the sweetest friend with me to hold my hand.

Fast forward 1.5 hours in the waiting room, I approached the front desk and asked about my anxiety medicine, to which the annoyed woman replied, “You should’ve taken that this morning before you came… we don’t give that here. You are about to be called back.”

Enter panic. Like hands sweating, can’t feel my tongue, heavy legs, room- spinning panic.

I immediately started to cry. I can’t do this, I kept repeating to myself. I can’t. I just can’t.

Well, folks. I had a choice. Get the shot or walk away , in pain, and schedule something another month out. To me, the choice was clear.

So I started to reschedule.

But my dear, sweet friend wouldn’t let me. She told me I was strong. And fearless. And could do anything. And reminded me that I wasn’t alone. She was here… He was here.

So I trusted her. And Him.

And I let both of them hold me.

With buckets of more tears, but ZERO meds, I did it.

Phew. That was huge.

But as our minds have it, we forget these things.

And the next time fear crept up, I was paralyzed again. As If I had completely blocked out how things had gone months before when I trusted, tested, and took a huge leap of faith.

In October, I was in pain again. This time, in my abdomen.

I wrestled with the pain for a week, ( hunching over grandma-style while I walked, still carrying Quinn and still stuffing Thursday folders…) until finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.

The Dr. took one look at my face and checked my abdomen, and immediately sent me to talk to a surgeon.

Enter more panic and oceans of tears.

I left the surgeon’s office with a diagnosis of a large hernia and surgery scheduled for 2 days out. I could barely drive home…

I have never had surgery before, and the idea of it scared the dickens out of me.

And once again, I was faced with more choices. Pain? More damage done to my body if I pushed through? Or tackle my fear…

Amidst my questioning and crying, I tried something new this time. I prayed. HARD. And surrendered.

And I decided to trust.

And to say I was calm the day of, is an understatement. Actually, Adam was kinda freaked out by my out-of-character-super-serene demeanor.

I just kept smiling at him, and saying, “He’s got me.”

And this was without drugs in my system, I promise.

And God was unmistakably present through it all.

I am pain-free today. And that taught me a bit more about my ability to face my fears with an army by my side.

I felt stronger-ish.

Until I had to face my ULTIMATE fear of the…….

DENTIST.

Long story short, I had avoided this fear for a shameful length of time, but God said, “It’s time,” in the form of a cracked tooth. I am now FACE TO FACE with the very scariest of people.

( Sorry to all the dentists out there…but seriously- it’s a true fear, and I’m not crazy! I googled it… so….)

I had made the decision to be brave and get the work done, but only after I signed my life away agreeing to have “laughing gas” as an aid.

They put the mask on, actually the poor woman TRIED to put my mask on, and once again I panicked. I felt like someone was trying to smother me with a pillow. She told me that the “smothering” feeling was going to be present throughout the whole procedure. It seemed I had another choice.

Funny how these things kept coming at me, huh?

At this point, I am hoping you can guess what I chose to do.

I plugged my earbuds in, cranked my Christian music (“Fearless” by Jasmine Murray), and gave her the thumbs up.

And I survived.

Three different fears, three moments where I was tested.

But with the help of Him who gives me strength, and those around me- praying and holding my hand, I survived.

So, back to resolutions.

I think too often we ask ourselves- “what happens if I fail?”
So we don’t follow through or sometimes even try.
But we should be asking “what happens if I never give this a chance?”

Take the chance.

I’m only starting to realize God’s parenting style is just like that:
We will go through the valleys, and sometimes in the paralyzing, dark shadows of death… but we should NOT FEAR- For HE IS WITH US.

His protection and guidance is over our souls- which are in a constant battle.
A battle of fear or freedom.
A battle of right or wrong.
A battle of survivor or surrender.

So this year, make the resolutions.
And try your darndest to keep them.

Not because everyday you will meet your challenges with bells on.
You won’t.
Resolutions are hard. Life is hard.
But keep them because ( Phil. 4:13) you are entirely and undisputedly stronger than you’ll ever know.

Go find out just how strong.

***********************

From my favorite Lauren Daigle song…

“Letting go of every single dream
I lay each one down at Your feet
Every moment of my wandering
Never changes what You see
I try to win this war
I confess, my hands are weary, I need Your rest
Mighty warrior, king of the fight
No matter what I face You’re by my side

When You don’t move the mountains
I’m needing You to move
When You don’t part the waters
I wish I could walk through
When You don’t give the answers
As I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You…”

Songwriters: Lauren Daigle,Paul Marbury,Michael Farren
© Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC,ESSENTIAL MUSIC PUBLISHING,CAPITOL CHRISTIAN MUSIC GROUP

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