Exhausted and Honest

This past week has been extra challenging. No reason. Nothing out of the ordinary. Parker seems to be testing us a little more than usual. He's becoming his own person. He's begging for boundaries on a daily basis. I've never been so constant with discipline. It's exhausting and the endless no's, time outs, warnings and spankings make me feel like a mean mom. Ever been there?

Lately, I've been asking myself, "am I being too hard on him? Am I expecting too much?" He knows better. He knows right from wrong. He knows what he's doing is unacceptable, especially when he voluntarily puts himself in timeout. Yes, I just said that correctly. Three times this week. THREE. He ran himself right to timeout. I chuckle. It's funny because he's smart. He'd rather take a seat than a spoon.

My thoughts about parenthood and the reality of it have once again proven to be opposite.  Most women like to think of all the wonderful aspects of having children: dress up, adorable photos, giggling and family vacations. I experience these moments, and they're wonderful. They are. We love to go places and make memories. But, day in and day out we struggle to find them. We see a lot of teasing back and forth, disobedience, fussiness, crying and tantrums. It's work trying to make two fully-energized little boys happy, with an effort of trying to feel in control, stress free and organized. And then, somehow adding to the chaos, these cute little tornados manage to find every spot you've tried cleaning (and felt a small amount of accomplishment for the day) and trashed it or dirtied it again. The attempt feels good, but the aftermath just feels like wasted time. Why try to clean a mess that'll look the same minutes later. It's a never-ending battle, and quite frankly, will be for the next several years. I just tell myself often, "don't sweat the small stuff."

So, back to this false perception of parenthood. When I was starting to have kids I thought of all the things new mom's think of: names, nursery, and clothes. All of their firsts and the baby book. Visiting with family and friends. Play dates. But what about discipline? And what to do when it starts? 

Terrible two's were rare in our home with Parker. He has always been fairly easy. Even at the age of three, it's never hit "terrible" status, but it has gotten more challenging. For the most part, I've always felt in control, disciplined to the best of my knowledge and it's worked for us most of the time. But lately, he's trying to figure things out on his own. He's taking matters into his own hands with Reid. He feels like he has the authority to do so; The authority to correct Reid's behavior. It's cute, but often times it's not. And "no" is his favorite word. To everything.

I was warned by a few moms about this phase; that it comes rather quickly, and you'll feel like all you do is discipline. It's constant. I think we've entered it. It's emotionally tough for me as a mom. I found myself whispering under my breath, "where did my little Parker go? The one who didn't need timeouts or spankings?" It's a positive experience. He's learning. I'm learning. He's trying to solve problems on his own. He's becoming more independent, and with that comes boundaries. All kids need boundaries.

I'm trying to figure out where to step in and where to watch; when to communicate and when to be silent. I want him to figure things out on his own (of course, what a 3-year old is expected to know--they're smarter than we give them credit for sometimes), and in his own little way without me trying to draw it out every step of the way. I think it's healthy for them. I can only hope that we've taught the basics, and that he'll know going into situations what is right and what is wrong.

Parker's using Reid to help him understand a lot lately. No, it's not okay to poke him in the eye for the fifth time today, or take every toy away from him because you want it and have the strength to do so. The same goes for Reid. He's done his fair share of testing, teasing and hitting. Surprisingly, he's made Parker cry a few times. 

It's hard to be the referee. I never considered the tougher details of becoming a parent. They'd come with time, right? Well the time has come. These are small matters, I know. This is nothing compared to what will come in later years, but it's eye opening. Every phase of parenthood comes with something new and different to learn, and I feel like we are just now entering a new phase. 

I really try not to sweat the small stuff, like a dirty house 24-7, sticky fingers everywhere, dirt drug in by shoes, and the tower of laundry that's been unfolded a hundred times because I haven't had the time or effort to put them away the first time. It's all minor details that I "try" not to make a big deal. However, it's the teaching of Jesus, the consistency with discipline, respect for others, manners and rules that mean so much more. It's the shaping of these little people that will effect who they are and what they do. These matter to me. This is where I struggle. It's a long-term effect on our children, and I can only pray that God directs me every step of the way. 

I'm not always sure I choose the best method of discipline. Time out again? Am I the only mom who raised my voice today? Will my boys think I'm mean? Did I even talk about Jesus today? Some days I just want to cry. And some days I do. Some days I want to pull my hair out, and other days I wouldn't mind locking myself in my room for an hour. I take a lot of deep breaths. Guilt is a mom's worst enemy. It will eat us alive. I've felt overwhelmed and emotional. I've felt like I've failed as a mom and a wife some days. It runs in cycles. Not every day. Not every week. It comes and goes. But this is a note to all moms--you are doing a great job. Right now. Right where you are, you're doing fine.

This is not my outlet to complain. That's not what I'm trying to do here. It's life, and it gets a little tough sometimes. We have great weeks. Really good ones, but lately it's just been exhausting. I've come to realize that it's normal. My life is normal. Your life is normal too. You aren't alone. We are all in this together. (It does help having a husband who understands, who encourages nights out, and who willingly takes on whatever he has to when he gets home to relieve me.) Some weeks are tough, and that's okay. The great weeks far outweigh the "busier", more challenging ones. 

So momma... the tired, exhausted one out there, if you ever need an ear, I'm always a call or message away. I know that it can be encouraging to talk to moms who are in the same boat, or close to it. More importantly, God will give you strength, and we can pray and encourage one another! Remember, you're doing great, Momma!

Special Visitor

Parker has been in soccer for the past 10 weeks now. He started out pretty shy and clingy, but has made huge progress; great progress. So proud of him! There's not much in the way of soccer games; it's just not that doable for 3-4 year olds. However, they do play games that involve running and use of the soccer ball. Coach Jay is great, and has done a wonderful job entertaining and keeping all of the little ones focused.

In the meantime, "Tall" Papa had been talking about making it to one of Parker's games (or practice, if you will), and today was that special day! Parker was beyond excited.

After soccer, Papa joined us for dinner at Panera. 

We had the chance to take Papa down to the beach for a little bit. 

My World!

I'm way too tired to blog, but I'll share my world in just a few pictures.

Happy Mother's Day!

...To all of the wonderful moms and mothers-to-be!

(For Mother's Day we went to church, and then to one of my favorite places to eat, TacoLus. Afterwards, we went to one of the boys favorite places. Adventure Landing. There's nothing I want more for Mother's Day than to be with my boys, my family. It's my happy place.)

A mom. A mother. What is she? She is not just a woman. She's more than that. She's a lover. A giver. A provider. A supplier. A supporter. A cheerleader. A hard worker. She's selfless. The list goes on.

My mom devoted many (hard) days to my life; to me (and for me) so that I thrived and survived. We were not rich. I had a pillow. I had a bed. I had a home. I had shoes. I had toys. I had the necessities. But more importantly, I had love. A love that far outweighs things. Things were exciting and new, but eventually aged and faded. But, love leaves an impression on the heart. Love is everlasting. It never fades. It never gets old. Love is what makes us who we are.

Every little girl dreams of their prince. They want to be longed for and wanted. They want to build a home and a family. They desire babies. Well, most little girls do. It's the way our little minds work. It's this fairy tale that we see and believe after watching princess movies. The thought of having our own children, nurturing them and being needed... It's this picture we paint in our minds that we so desperately want.

And then, years later we finally bring this dream, this desire, to life. It's reality. And it's beautiful, rewarding and wonderful, but let's get real. It's exhausting. It's challenging. It's hard.

My mom started young. She had five kids by the age of 21. She was a single mom, but somehow we always had what we needed. She was enough. I have 2, started later and have a helpful spouse and STILL haven't figured out this whole parenting thing. I still ask her, "how in the world did you do it?" I find myself complaining about silly small things, but I'm reminded of my mom. Who am I to complain? She had FIVE. There are some days I am thrilled to see Grant get home from work because I've missed him. Some days I get even more excited because I just need a break.  To start dinner, or sit (especially on days the boys don't nap). She didn't get a break. Ever. Her job wasn't over after she clocked out. She was full-time, all the time. For five little people, who each needed her; and no extra hands to help.

My life is good. I can't complain about anything. God has been so good to me, and I have a wonderful little family. But, my mom has taught me more than she thinks she has. I have come to appreciate life more; to appreciate what I have and to be thankful, even on tougher days. My mom has taught me strength. If she did it with five, I CAN do it with two.

She taught me that I don't have to have the best of things to still be happy. She had very little, but gave so much. Life was good, and it's because of her. She was and still is enough. She's my mother. Today, I celebrate her. I celebrate who she is and what she has taught me.

Love is what we needed. Love is what she gave, and I appreciate and love that woman more than she will ever know. You are strong. You are beautiful. You are my mom. And, I love you. Happy Mother's Day!

I feel like a...

New woman! I got to sleep in until 9:15 am. Yes. That's correct. And, no there were no typos. I cannot tell you the last time I've done that. It was nice. Refreshing. Not for Grant, ha.

In addition to the extra rest, I ran out (kid-free) and got my hair cut. It's been over a year since my hair has encountered scissors. I went a little out of my comfort zone on price, but it was well worth every dollar. It's just nice to do that sort of thing every once in a while. Like once a year. Mother's Day weekend. Great Saturday!

Happiness Is A Choice

Happiness. Everyone wants it, but often not everyone shows it? Finds it? Has it?

So, I was driving in my car this morning. We were headed to story time. The AC on high. Radio turned up. We were coming up over the intracoastal waterway. Beautiful! Boats were out. Reid babbles at the sight of birds, and my mind was onto something. I started thinking about happiness. Being happy. Happy people. It's a choice. In my head I told myself, I'm happy. I'm going to choose to be happy. I want to be happy for others. Well...

On the intracoastal descent, I thought my "happy" thoughts were on their descent too. An older beat up truck came to a pretty quick stop. Looking on both sides of me, I made the decision to swerve to my left. Sped up and around the truck and got back over. It wasn't a close call by any means. I'm a pretty cautious driver. I'm safe. But, I got the honk. I smiled, and told myself maybe they're not happy today and moved on.

A minute goes by, I'm cruising along and I got another long honk with an arm raised (no birds flying). Just a honk. I said (out loud that Parker heard), "well, what an ornery old lady!" Parker asks, "Why did you say that Mommy?"

I laughed, and said, "Oh, that lady just isn't happy today."

I'm really not sure if she woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or if I'm the one who ruined her day. I'm sorry if I was the reason. She made my day. I smiled. I got a laugh, AND a blog out of it.

Okay, on a more serious note, happiness is so important. Days are long. Days are hard. Days are exhausting. Every day doesn't always have to be full of roses and rainbows, but they don't have to be miserable either.  It helps to smile. Lately, I have found myself smiling in the midst of "trials" with the boys. It's kind of hard to discipline with anger while I'm smiling. It helps me calm myself when I want to raise my voice.

Yelling is easy. It happens. Smile. Take a deep breath and then proceed with discipline. It's a great way to calm the storm, if you will. It's a great way to find a little "happy" on those tougher days.

Being happy for others is another one. That old ornery lady this morning. Remember her? I was happy for her. I was happy she didn't hit me. I was happy she didn't wreck while taking her hand off the steering wheel to honk and raise an arm. I was happy that she drove away feeling good about making her point... That she wasn't happy (with me). And, I'm happy I can make jokes and no one really take me serious right now.

I do want to be happy for others. Even in small matters. I'm guilty as charged! For example, selfies! They bother me. A little. Well, use to. But I should just be happy for you. I'm happy your hair looks good. I wish I had time to get all dolled up; just doesn't happen often. It's a Facebook thing, but posts tell a lot about a person. People hate on them, love them or don't even acknowledge them. Either way, who cares if someone got a new car, a nice home, has great kids or shows off their big bling... Be happy for them. It's easier said than done, but when we make an effort at changing something in our lives, we will slowly surprise ourselves.

There are a lot of unhappy people in this world. We see them everyday. As Christians, we should be set apart. There should be something about us that is different. We should have joy, an everlasting joy. We should be happy and happy for those around us. Period.

Romans 15:13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

“Joy is the serious business of Heaven.” ~ C. S. Lewis

Doctors and Balloons

We had a doctors appointment for Reid today. It was his 15-month well visit, along with a continual search to see what's wrong with him. There's a lot we will be testing in the next several weeks to determine if Reid has asthma, continual reflux issues, or something allergy related. His doctor seems to believe he has asthma, but I'm hoping it's the lingering signs of reflux that he will soon grow out of. Either way, prayers are always welcomed.

Parker is dragged along on most visits--the joy of siblings, right? He's so good. Patient. Quiet. Helpful. While Reid was getting checked (which results in crying most visits) Parker did his best to entertain and make him laugh. He succeeded. (Gasp) I have no words that describe how lucky I am to be theirs, and them mine.

I promised him we'd return home to play with water balloons, and that we did.

One of these days...

I'll write something inspiring. There's lots of stirring in my soul on a few subjects, but they will come later. At the right time, hopefully.

However, these pictures sum up our day!

Just A Normal Day

Nothing out of the ordinary today. It was a bit on the hot side, but beautiful out. We did some of Parker's and Reid's favorite things.

A Reminder

I am sitting in my living room. Curled up on the couch. A survivor show on tv, and a hot guy in front of me. I am so lucky. He is seriously the best.

I've been trying to stick to my goal at writing every day this month. I've got nothing. Not tonight. I sat here for a good 30 minutes struggling with a topic. And I looked up, saw Grant and was reminded of how good he has made my life. How good he is to me, and how wonderful it is to be married to him.

Love. Marriage. Relationships. Yes, those are topics my heart loves. Love is fun and beautiful, and I can't help but get excited about it. Especially when it works. When it's good. Even when it's not, there are opportunities to learn. We learn what works, and what doesn't. It's what makes marriage exciting!

I could write an entire blog about Grant. I will one day. For now, I'll just say I love that man more than he knows and I appreciate the life he has given me. So thankful!

We Pulled the Band-Aid

It hurt. A little. It's been a struggle. A three year struggle. I prayed for peace. A lot of it. It's funny because it's the very thing they're learning about in Parker's class. Peace. I needed it just to get me through it. We finally pulled the Band-Aid off and left Parker in class the entire service at church. Alone. No holding his hand. No waiting at the door stalking his every move. I did check on him half way through service. That was a success in my book.

It was tough. I wanted to cry, but I held it together. He needs it. We need it. God wants it, and well... It's crucial for us as a family. We need to refuel ourselves as husband and wife. As parents. As individuals.

Reid went too. And, Reid got kicked out, ha-ha. We figured while the pain from Parker's Band-Aid was still fresh (and the fact that staying quiet in the service wasn't an option) we would put him in class too. We gave it a shot. I think we made it twenty minutes in, worshipped to all of the songs, and then the code "A6A" flashed up on the screen. That looks familiar. Oh, wait, that's us! I was hoping it was just a diaper that needed to be changed, but I could tell by the red eyes, tears and snot that he was inconsolable. He was heartbroken. He wanted mommy and daddy.

Ten minutes later he crashed on daddy. We got to listen to an entire sermon. I repeat, entire sermon. Uninterrupted (and uncomfortable for Grant). It was glorious. As soon as the sermon ended I went (okay, I ran) to pick Parker up. He did so great. The first thing he said was, "Mommy, I didn't like it at first, but then I did." I'd say there was a lot of progress today. Little pain. A lot of peace.

I wish...

There were more hours in the day, but SO thankful for the 24 hours God has given us to enjoy our kids, family and friends. I am exhausted, but it was a wonderful night with friends! Can you believe we actually got to play games? Yeah, I said it... Games! That's exciting in the life of parenthood. It isn't every day we get to play "adult" games. Ha. More to come tomorrow.

Cinco de Mayo Storytime

I'm never sure of storytime. It can be a hit or miss. Parker loves it now, and Reid, well he likes to run everywhere and pull books off shelves. It's a game to him. The more I chase him, or the more I say "no" it's like his permission to do it more. Ha! It makes our visits interesting, but so far hasn't been too bad.

We tried a new storytime today, and the turn out was great; more than what I was expecting. We learned a little about Cinco de Mayo, and made paper maracas. I'm not sure how much the kids learned, but they were pretty excited about their noise makers. Aren't most kids anyway?