Superpower.

There's a funny line in the movie, My Big Fat Greek Wedding:
"The man may be the head of the household, but the woman controls the neck!"


Very humorous, but packs a punch with truth!


At our home, ask our kids who is boss & they quickly reply: Daddy!
The Poppa is in charge.
He is the final authority and lovingly sets the rules on what is right & wrong.


But in my short time of being a mother, I've come to realize, that my mood is the stabilizing force in our household. "If Momma ain't happy, ain't no one happy, kinda thing." With this knowledge comes a bigger sense of responsibility for me to be fully in control of my emotions. To not allow anger or frustration or aggravation be my motivator for my words or my actions. My kids are watching me all the time, judging how the day is going to go, determining how they should or should not act based on what I am doing.


When I really stop and reflect on this, I am afraid. Fearful that I cannot do this correctly. Because, frankly, life sometimes is hard. Sometimes I'm tired. Sometimes I am inpatient. Sometimes I am angry. I have failed and allowed what is happening in the moment to bring down the mo-jo in our home.

Of course I recognize the balance that is required with being authentic. I don't want my children to by Pollyanna's, to grow up and believe that everything is always in perfect harmony all the time. That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the moments where I'm frustrated because the bank balance is low and I've yelled at my children too quickly. (Yep, just being real here.....)

With great power, comes great responsibility.
" Dear Gracious & Kind Heavenly Father, I need Your help me to use it well. Amen."

Readin'. Writin'. & Prayin'.

SO, the boy started kindergarten.

As a family, we decided we wanted to send him to a Christian School. There is a fantastic one very close to my office and the logistics all seem to work out. (There was a bit of a dramatic flare to the event, because he was registered, then we were told there was no room for him, then they called & had room for him two days after school officially started ...... but when is our life ever simple? Mmmmm) It has been an amazing, wonderful step for us. From the moment we walked into this school, we knew it was where we wanted to be. Even on the very first day, as tears spilled out of my eyes watching my big boy walk into the classroom, I felt such peace.

To say the boy LOVES it is an understatement. I pick him up in the afternoon and as he climbs in to the van he is rapidly discussing what he learned that day. His brain is being stretched and he is absolutely loving the experience. It is a fantastic adventure, one that we hope & pray will continue to be with him for his whole educational journey. We excitedly review the day's papers and he is actually disappointed when there is no homework sheet in his folder. And almost daily, the Poppa prays a blessing over the boy (& sister girl too) that he would "grow in widsom & in favor with God & man."

I am not alone in recognizing this is another milestone in the journey of motherhood. The emotion of it has taken me by surprise at times. I believed I was "super-woman" and would not be affected by this step. O.contrare. The transformation of my preschool son into a real, kindergarten, school boy has me scrambling for many a Kleenex. It hits me at various times, but most often as I watch him hop, jump & run out to meet me at the end of a day. His face & hands are usually grubby, his shirt disheveled and pulled out of his shorts, the grime and sweat making his unruly hair to spike up in various parts.

I look at him in that moment and I see it for what it really is.
A moment.
Such a beautiful one, but oh-so fleeting.
Five years feels like only a few days....

Recognizing the weight of this causes me to pray harder, more earnestly. And it feels like I am the one who is being taught. Learning to shape my life, my actions, my words after Jesus. Knowing that is only through His grace that I can be the mother my children need me to be.
Lord, help ME to "grow in wisdom & in favor" too.

And as Jesus grew older

He gained in both wisdom and stature,

and in favour with God and man.

Luke 2:52

Covering all the bases.

Once upon a time a harried mom & dad took a trip
With two adorable preschoolers, who both had to make an emergency potty break.
....blah...blah...blah..

The family chariot pulled off the interstate into a Target parking lot and both parents rushed to get the said kiddos out of the vehicle. Upon exiting the vehicle, they quickly realized that they had locked the keys (the only set of keys) inside the mini van while it was still running.
....wah....wah....wah

The Momma smartly said she was going to take the offspring and run away to the bathroom and while inside she would pray for the Poppa.
Once in the bathroom the Momma instructed the children to hurriedly do their business and that it would be wise, very wise for the wee ones to join her in praying for the Poppa & the-locked-keys-inside-the-van-situation.

The boy's prayer went something like this:
Dear God, Please help Daddy. Please help the locked van. In the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost, the Holy Spirit and all of the other ones too. Amen.
.....ha....ha.....ha
Very soon mall security came to our rescue, unlocked the doors and the family lived happily ever after.

The End.

Truth.

At his preschool, the boy recently learned an old song from my childhood.
He loves to sing it very loudly.
I love hearing him sing it.
It makes me smile.

Today, while in the shower, I decided I would sing it loudly too.
I kinda hope it made God smile.

The devil is a sly ole fox.
I'd like to take him & throw in him a box.
I'd lock the door & throw away the key,
For all the mean tricks he's played on me.

I'm glad I've got salvation.
I'm glad I've got salvation.
I'm glad I've got salvation.
By trusting in my Lord.

Measuring Stick.

Today I was not the greatest Mom.
I'm just being honest.
This strep infection has thrown me for a loop, plus the side effects from the antibiotics have kicked in and I'm about one or two notches above functioning.
Excuses aside, I had little patience with my kids the past 24 hours.

What is normally the adorable sound of pitter patter of little feet sounded like a troop of elephants storming through the house. And every time I pulled myself off the couch it was only to discover more messes and more piles of toys. The day seemed to stretch on endlessly until finally I slopped some cold cereal into bowls, added a side of toast & called it dinner.

FAIL.
So I sit here and reflect on my attitude and pray with every fiber of my being that today is not the day my kids use to describe me as a Mom. And I humbly bow my head, asking for God's forgiveness. If there is way to add up all the "good Mom days" and subtract all the "bad Mom days" -- perhaps in the end, I'll tip the scales in the right way.

I ponder this because I've discovered a hard truth over the years....we all tend to judge people based on one particular circumstance or event.

You know, the way you still whisper to your BFF about that guy in your circle of friends who at one time, 15 years ago, was totally strung out on crack. Forget about the years of clean, sober living he has under his belt. He can't seem to escape his past.

Or the gal in your church who sings beautifully in the choir, but in the back of your mind, she wears the label of a man-chaser. Maybe she has had many boyfriends and relationships throughout her life, but God has redeemed her and set her free.

We judge others without the benefit of grace.
But beg for grace when the spotlight is shining inside our lives.

"Forgive our sins, as we forgive everyone who has done wrong to us."
Luke 11:3

Grace

Me & my shadow have a morningtime routine of sorts. We are both the first to get moving in the mornings. I wake up stumbling around, looking for my glasses and grumbling all the way to the kitchen to turn the coffee pot on.

She on the other hand, wakes up bright eye & bushy tailed. Ready for the day. Ready for adventure. Ready for hearty conversations. (She obviously gets that from her father. Sigh.)

We've worked out a bit of a morning dance. Once the coffee pot is perking, I'll stumble into the bathroom & turn on the shower. She follows me into the bathroom, dragging the ever-present blankie & usually some doll/animal/creature she is calling her baby. I grunt & humph around, while she jibber jabbers excitedly about this or that. As I step into the steaming shower, she is arranging a little nest on the floor, where she spends the next ten minutes singing songs or talking to me the whole time I am fully waking up.

I love this! I absolutely do. I know there will be a day when she won't want to follow me around 24/7. That she'll roll her eyes at even the suggestion that we should spend some time together. So for now, I enjoy these moments, capturing them in my heart & memory.
.....................

A few evenings ago, I was very grouchy. And tired. Exhausted really.
And did I mention grouchy?

It was the end of a long day. I hurried through supper & was rushing the evening time bath ritual. Sister girl was not ready to take a bath. She wanted to play. She wanted to run. She wanted to cuddle her doll/animal/creature. She was not ready to take a bath.

Being the absolute meanie mom that I am, I picked her up & carried her to the bathroom. She WAS going to take a bath. Right now. This.very.instance. BECAUSE I SAID SO.

Her normally happy mood changed. She did what unhappy 2 year olds do.
She screamed. She kicked. She cried. She stomped her feet.

My patience was gone. I was done. D.O.N.E.
So I applied all of my most awesome parenting skills & I threw a 38 year old momma fit.
GET IN THE BATH NOW.
DO NOT PASS GO.
DO NOT COLLECT $200.00.
DO NOT. DO NOT. DO NOT.
I AM IN CHARGE.
IF YOU DON'T BE QUIET, I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!(Yes. I said it. The very phrase/words I hated from my childhood, they just errupted from someplace deep & dark & came out. I didn't just say it. I screamed it.)

Ashamedly, I'll confess, my fit throwing worked. (This time.)
She immediately hushed up, got into the bath. We rushed through the process & I put her into bed. Her compliance made me feel instantly contrite. I knew I had over-reacted. I was wrong. (Not wrong in saying that I was in charge. But very wrong in how I conveyed that I was in charge.)

Quietly I dressed her. Her blue eyes staring at me. As I laid her down, I knelt beside the bed & asked for her forgiveness. I apologized for yelling, for throwing a momma-fit. For loosing my cool & not being patient. Her little arms went around me & she gave me a wet, sloppy kiss.

Later as I closed my eyes for the night, my heart was heavy. I have so much to learn, to change, to improve on in this momma game. So.very.much. I've been here before. Whenever will I learn?


But the beautiful point I am trying to make is that the very next morning....

My little girl was happily playing on the shower rug as the warm steam filled the room. Giggling, singing, talking to me & her "baby." All of the unpleasantness from the evening before was erased.


Once again, my children are revealing so much about God to me.
I am blessed.

"Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;

therefore I will wait for him."

Lamentations 3:22-24

Me & my shadow.

As much as I love having a little boy, there is nothing that compares to having a little girl. She is truly heart of my heart. I adore her, she makes me laugh every day and stretches my heart in ways that I could never have imagined. I dream big dreams of her.

She follows me everywhere. And I mean everywhere.
If I'm in the kitchen, she's at the counter "helping" do dishes. If I'm in the laundry, she's jabbering away while folding (scrunching) clothes up. If I'm watching Judge Judy (a guilty pleasure) she's sitting there beside me laughing it up. When I put on makeup, she's got a set of brushes and some powder she likes to swirl on.

She's such a paradox. She's really, really loving. Very motherly. 90% of the time she's dragging a baby doll along with her. Her favorite person to take care of? Bubby. She makes sure he has milk to drink, snacks to eat, toys to play with. (She also is the first to whack him upside the head if the mood strikes, but then she soothes him, saying, "Sorry Bubby. Sorry Bubby. You ok?" over and over.)

I am so aware of my influence in her life. By the very way I am living my life I am teaching her BIG, BIG lessons. She will love her husband the way I love the Poppa. She will love herself the way I love myself. Silently, without saying a word, I am the one she will compare all things female to.

The power of this relationship scares me at times. I feel inadequate. Unprepared. There is so much of my life I need to repair, to fix, to correct. I cannot lead her in the way she should go. Many nights I fall into bed knowing that I have failed. I have not imparted wisdom. Tears fall from my eyes and I do the only thing I know to do in those moments.

I pray.
I pray very, very hard.

And if somehow, someway I can pass that one nugget of truth along to her........that in her moments of weakness & failure, there is a God who loves us beyond all human understanding........then I will have considered my parenting skills to be complete.