Get it Before it's Gone

The decisions we make, make the life we live. . .the decisions we make, make the life we live. . .that sentence has been bombarding my mind since I read it over a week ago.  I found it amidst a devotional that was delivered to my inbox from Lysa Terkurst, an author who is so real and sweet I dragged my mom down to San Diego one night just so we could listen to her speak at a Focus on the Family event.  We spent more time in the car than we did at the event. . .on a school night.  It 's definitely love!

I think the reason it sticks with me is because lately in book club we have discussed how busy we are, and all the demands we interpret as part of our days.  In some ways I have scaled back in an attempt to reclaim our family time in the evenings.  I declined continuing a book club because, no matter how much I like the girls, another weekly, night-time commitment takes time away from the sacred time I want to have with my most loved ones.  We almost said no with Lene doing another play.  We had to physically sit down with the director and express our concerns with the time commitment that was involved in the last show.  We had to set boundaries from the beginning if another show was to be in our family's future, because the reality is this:  her involvement effects our involvement.  This week, we decided not to rush through Holy week like crazy people so we declined a free golf clinic that I had signed up for months ago.  Everyone who knows me knows free is hard to pass up. . .so it was kind of a big deal.  The aha moment for me?  When I cared more about getting there on time Monday than the kids.  Deal was sealed.  We said no.

I have commented on being much busier now that I am primarily a stay-at-home mom.  That is for sure.  But the truth of the matter is, I do have more time in my day to pour into events, organizations, or the kid's classrooms, and truth be told: I enjoy it immensely.

That is not the problem.  The problem rears its ugly head when those commitments effect my family at home.  The problem is seen when I have too much to do on the computer, with meetings, or whatever, that I am not paying attention to my kids and husbands need because I am so centered on the project at hand.  Because let's face it, once upon a time I thought my career defined who I was.  I poured time, energy, and countless hours perfecting my craft of teaching.  It felt good to receive accolades and praise from administrators and colleagues and best of all: students.

 And then I had children of my own. . .

And my world was forever changed...for the better.
I may not ever again be "Teacher of the Year," but I treasure the job title gifted me by God more: Mom.

"The decisions we make, make the life we live." Live well.

“Life moves pretty fast. You don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it”. Ferris - Ferris Bueller’s Day Off 1986

September 24, 2012

1 Timothy 1:5: "But the goal of our instruction is love from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith."

This girl!  Oh, this girl!  She is something else.  The Lord is teaching me some mighty powerful lessons when it comes to child rearing with this one.  Some days, I can verbalize the blessing aloud of me being home more  than in the past.  Other days, it's hard to put my thoughts into well construed sentences because nothing about it seems to make sense.

My head knows that this is where I have always wanted to be--my whole life--two Master's degrees and fifteen teaching years later.  BUT, no one ever really told me how hard it is.  Or maybe they did and I just didn't listen--I had to find out for myself.  Maybe it's not hard, it just seems hard because I am new at this whole stay at home thing.  Maybe it's hard because I put such pressure on myself  with high expectations. Maybe it's hard because the personality of my third born is so different from the rest.  She seems to be learning from them, and just not all the good traits either. . .

I know this is where I am supposed to be because He trusted me enough to put me here; however, I do not think a day has passed where I do not acknowledge that I am totally dependent on Him to get me through some days swirling with almost three-year-old attitude and angst.  I am such a work in progress because this child brings me to my knees.  She makes  me cry out to the Lord for guidance, wisdom, patience, energy, discretion, her dad. . .you name it, I have prayed it.

My heart doesn't ache or break with the "I'm mean," "I'm angry,"  and believe it or not but I actually heard, "I hate you" the other night.  (I've never heard that from the other two.  Never)  I just keep trying patiently (sometimes better than others) to lead her back to shining His light, and asking for forgiveness, to love her, to shower her with grace and teach her right from wrong gently. It is SO hard sometimes!

 She reminds me, dare I say so much of myself.  Not when I was that age, because I was nothing like her--but sometimes her interactions, her self-centeredness, her irritation, her attitude, her need to be doing, her frustration when things don't go according to HER plan. . .I see glimpses of me.  I see glimpses of that high school girl I used to be, that college girl I grew up and away from, and the newlywed who had to learn to do better. Those glimpses I see from time to time aren't my best parts.

On a decent day, I can smile.  In those moments when I actually allow myself to see me in her. . .I can look for the blessing.  She is young.  I can pray as if my life depended on it for her weaknesses.  I can guide her through her frustrations and irritations by reading His words, and we can put on our battle armor and fight this stuff together because sooner or later she will see, we really are on the same team.  He really is our Father, our counselor, our coach. . .and after three Monday sin a row with daddy, he has gained a whole new respect for me being here.  That is definitely a part of God's plan too. . .the two of us teaming up to parent and love as He has instructed us to do.  What an adventure we are on. . .and September isn't even over yet.  I am hopeful.  I am faithful. I am a prayer warrior.  I am blessed.  Through it all, always blessed.

September 21, 2012

This week I am happy to say that we are entering into the weekend with a kitchen remodel complete!  All that is left is the painting of baseboards and finding two new trash cans, but all is well in my little world that is thankfully less chaotic and more clean.

The kitchen consisted of new flooring and backsplash.  The dining area received a furniture face lift and a creamy color splashed on to the walls.  I love it.  It just makes the space feel more open and airy which is hard to do in a small area such as this.

Being home, cleaning up, and organizing chaos led me to be in the mood for some Fall decorating.  I am so happy to be home this year, to be pouring acts of service and love into my entire family, that dolling the place up a little was all fun and no work!

I remember this feeling fondly--nine years ago after our upstairs addition was complete, I had no need to step foot outside my home.  I was so happy in the space we created and so relieved that the chaos of renovating was finished that I desired to live fully in our new space and create family memories and routines and fellowship that was meaningful.  I feel the same way now.

The bathroom isn't done yet, but baby steps are being made.  I'm hoping it will be painted this weekend since the space isn't too big, but I don't really want to do it, because I got my fill painting the dining room last week!  But it has to be done and I want to be here, so I will work with eager hands as the Proverbs 31 woman would do...
"She selects wool and flax
    and works with eager hands.
¹⁴ She is like the merchant ships,
    bringing her food from afar.
¹⁵ She gets up while it is still night;
    she provides food for her family
    and portions for her female servants.
¹⁶ She considers a field and buys it;
    out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.
¹⁷ She sets about her work vigorously;
    her arms are strong for her tasks."

Our Proverbs 31 study this summer seeped in to the very being of who I am, who I desire to be.  Being home with my family more this year is my opportunity to bless them and to let go of some of my needless desires for a perfect, organized space void of clutter and chaos.  This is the stage we are in and as much as it is our duty to teach the kids responsibility and discipline, it was His love, in light of His law .  This particular line struck me as I realized that sometimes I miss the heart of an issue because I am too focused on the end result, the rule that was broken, the trait that is underdeveloped.  I am a work in progress.  It is a work in progress. As are they.

I find it much easier to see my growth in my marriage over the years.  My husband doesn't have the same tendencies that the kids do, grating upon my nerves with whining or complaining, or seeming ungrateful some times.  He has become more and more my partner in parenting, the one I choose to hang around with simply because he is my best friend.  I choose him.  The kids. . .oh, I see so much of my ugliness sometimes in them.  I think that is why I react because I think I can teach them into obedience and becoming the good person God intends them to be.  But they are exactly who God intends them to be--as am I.  In all the parts I work on and want to change, I am still me and I am loved by an almighty God.  How blessed am I?

How blessed are all of us?  This year in particular as I have been given this gift of time with my precious babies--God knew it was just what I needed.  As hard as it is, as broken as I sometimes feel, as much as I want the best for these children of mine--none of it is easy. Being unselfish with my time and energy does not come naturally for me, I wish I could say it did.  God called me home as much to pour wisdom and love and change into me as it is to pour it into my kids.  I am the one who has a lot of growing and changing and becoming still to do.  And with His help, it is all possible.

June 11, 2012

Once upon a time, I was a twenty-one year old college graduate who went on her first interview at the same elementary school her little brother attended.  I will never forget the stylish principal whose last question was, "You don't have to answer this. . .but do you mind me asking how old you are?"
I gulped.  "Twenty-one."
"Twenty-one as in almost twenty-two?" she asked incredulously.
"Twenty-one two months ago, " I nervously replied.
She shook her head back and forth and said something about her niece who was just about that age and she couldn't imagine her in a classroom. . .and I walked out of the interview to my car where I called my parents with that AAA emergency block of a phone and said, "there is no way I got it."

Only a couple hours later, the principal called me to tell me I did in fact have the job and I would be starting with a class of thirty-one kindergarteners after Christmas vacation.  And I cried.  Not of joy.  Not of fear.  But because I never in a million years had thought I would ever want to teach kindergarten, but here I was.  And accept the job I did and what an absolute blessing it was to work with this woman, my first principal.

She provided guidance and support through my first years and subsequent years after.  She was a listening ear, dignified, classy, and always impeccably dressed.  She had a knack for seeing the best in her teachers and helping to bring that to the forefront so it would benefit students.  She was such an incredible gift to a young woman like myself, just starting out in the field of education.

But perhaps the conversation that matters most is the one we had behind closed doors as I contemplated an interview to go and teach at our new Sixth Grade Academy.  Go-getter that I was, I was working on a second master's degree at twenty-three years old. It was to be in school counseling and all my teachers advised me that if I wanted a job as a counselor, I needed to get out of elementary school and get some experience at the secondary level--FAST!  So, I listened and was ready to abandon my elementary ship to achieve another goal of mine in a timely fashion.  I was one who really loved checking off boxes from my to-do list!

The conversation that took place one day before my interview was life-changing for me.  I remember explaining the set of circumstances as to why I should leave, but I also recall being heartbroken over  leaving these little kids whom I was so enjoying.  Not to mention, the friendships I had formed with some incredible women on campus. . .the move would be a difficult one.  But if I wanted to put another x on the list, this was a prime opportunity!  S listened to me.  She valued every word I said.  She took all of it in before she ever said a word.  But the words she spoke, have been with me forever:  something along the lines of, "There isn't one road to get you to your goal.  There are several different roads that will eventually have you end up in the same spot--or an even better spot than you ever imagined." 

The truth was, I was very happy at my current location.  And as much as I knew teaching wouldn't be for me forever--there was time for me to teach before I ventured into the counseling world.  My whole future loomed in front of me.  There were so many unknowns and I had no need to be in a hurry.  I decided to bask in the moment and enjoy every day with my elementary students--and what a joy it turned out to be!  I was able to loop with my students so I had many of them from kinder to third grade! I was Teacher of the Year at some point in the journey and for five years I threw myself into work that I loved all because of this principal who took the time to listen to me and encourage me.  Her truth spoke deep into the recesses of my heart and I think back to her words today, thirteen years later...

Eventually, she moved on to the District Office and I moved up to the high school. . .thinking perhaps I would pursue my counseling position, only to find myself married and then holding my dear daughter in my arms.  That goal of counselor was pushed to the side as I had my second child, dealt with the aftermath of my mom's stage three breast cancer diagnosis, and my husband's pursuit of his dream as a police officer.  I was itching for. . .less.  Unbeknownst to her, my principal's words would echo through my head (again). . ."There isn't one road to get you to your goal.  There are several different roads that will eventually have you end up in the same spot--or an even better spot than you ever imagined."  

I had arrived.  I was at an even better spot than I could have imagined: Wife. Mother.  And then here I was sitting at the brink of yet another opportunity  for movement.  I could reduce my contract if I was willing to move down to the middle school, so I jumped.  And for five years I have worked tirelessly to engage my students and prepare them for the world that I know awaits them at the high school.  And this week, I begin to box up remnants of this life to prepare for my next move--one day a week teaching Social Studies with a job share partner.  And as I pack up, I think of my principal who we will celebrate tonight as she winds down her forty-one years of service to this district...I think of the number of lives she has influenced and touched. I feel privileged to have worked for her, to have been able to call her a mentor, a friend.

Part of  what makes walking away from this profession completely--difficult is because I love what I do.  The other part is I love people like her, who I work for.  So, I count my lucky stars and thank God for providing me these opportunities to work at some level, yet do the work that matters most to my heart now at home. . .and my principal was right. . .  it's an even better spot than I ever imagined.

Since this was in your slideshow, I figured you wouldn't be too mad if I posted it for memory's sake here: )

Congratulations on your retirement, S.  Your commitment to teachers and students is what made you stand out from the rest!  Enjoy this road --I hope it holds joy beyond anything you could ever imagine!  May blessings abound!

April 26, 2012

 Since long work days and a four hour commute have taken their toll on my husband, he opted to stay in a hotel last night.  We understood.  Coming home at 11 pm. and returning at 3:30 am was not an option.  Once the kids were asleep, I called him back and we talked about our days.  I think I was going down the list of things we had accomplished in a short six hour span since the kids had come home from school, when he interrupted teasingly, "What are you going to do when you only work one day a week?"

Immediately, several things came to mind.  Just that day I had sent an email to the Faith Formation Leader at church asking what days classes would be held next year so that I could hopefully volunteer.  Then there is that Parent Participation pre-school I always wanted to send the kids to, but never could because I worked mornings.  I also plan on doing a bible study because that is something I have always wanted to do but never can seem to fit it in --with my morning hours and the fact that evenings aren't an option with Ernie's schedule, then there's that Etsy shop I promised to help mom with...

But I think it's the little things that I am most looking forward to.  Making breakfast, doing hair, getting up and putting on my workout clothes, doing my workout after I've walked the kids across the street--before I get myself all ready for the day.  Then there is the volunteering in the classroom I hope to do if grandma will help out with the baby. Oh, wait--the baby will be ready for preschool twice a week after November!! How did that happen!?

How is it that I have already worked part time for five years?  Five years ago, taking that leap seemed unfathomable--we didn't know financially how it was going to happen but we did it.  It seems to me in the past few years our perspectives have shifted from what the world deems as important or status symbols to what we believe to be the most important: raising our kids.  Even harder?  Raising them  in a world that is more focused on keeping up with the Jones'.  Itty bitty bits of that creep in (his Porsche dream) but ultimately, we don't need multiple residences, luxurious vacations, or designer clothes to make us happy.  Happiness is being together, living within our means and knowing that we are doing our best with raising our kids.

Does it take sacrifice?  Yes. Does it take patience.  Yes, some days a lot more than others.  Does it take relying on my Heavenly Father to lead us?  Absolutely.  And that right there does not come easily.  Some mornings, I want to keep pressing the snooze button instead of spending time in the word.  Some Sundays (especially if E is working), I don't want to go to church and wrangle a two-year-old through the hour and twenty minute service.  And sometimes, when this friend is returning full time, or that friend is going part time--and I'm listening and conversing and trying to be actively engaged in the conversation, until I realize: no, I don't get it. I don't want to get it.  I choose this life for us for now. . .and then I feel kind of bad about it because not so long ago, I really did get it.

But then again, . . .maybe I never really did after all. Because I have always wanted to stay home--even when I knew it was not an option.  When I got pregnant with our first, I knew that I had to go back to work.  And I accepted that.  And I did my job really well, but in my heart I still desired to be home. . .somewhere down the road.

I grew up with a mom that always worked full time. She still managed to make dinners and we had home made lunches some kids were envious of, but I can't recall her ever being a part of our holiday parties, or helping in the classroom, or waiting in the pick up line for us.  My proudest days were when she would come to the school and give these awesome presentations about the importance of keeping our teeth healthy. That was my mom up there!  But I also recall feeling so carefree and happy in the seventh grade when she gave birth to my little brother.  She took an extended leave and I remember coming home to a house full of baking smells and the dishwasher had already been emptied and there wasn't laundry I had to fold.  I didn't have to pull as much weight because my mom was home. There was just something comforting about knowing she was there.

Thank God, I am here on this road where mom being home is an option.  Being home with these kids, raising them, investing in their hearts and souls is not a responsibility I take lightly.  I think the bad days come as a result of feeling my failures as a mom.  Maybe I was impatient, mean, or unwilling to take the time to really listen. . .it could be any or all three on any given day. And then I question if this place is the right place for me.  Wouldn't the classroom be so much easier?  For a while, maybe.  But that too, would chip away at my energy, my patience, my enthusiasm and I might only have morsels to bring home to my own little ones. Perhaps.

I am feeling so blessed for this opportunity to breathe into my daughters that they can be anything they want to be.  My job here at home is as important as the one that requires my college and master's degrees (if not more so--my own opinion).  Both are hard. Both require a ton of time, dedication, and energy.  Both are possible. . .somewhere down the road.