How do you like being a Mom?

A new friend came over today and asked me, "How do you like being a Mom?" Sheesh, how do you answer that? "Depends on the day", was the glib response I wanted to give. How sad for her, she just celebrated her first baby's first birthday. A cynical answer is like telling your HORROR birth story to a first-time pregger. Although cathartic, realistic and authentic; not a nice idea.  So, I paused. I don't recall the exact answer I gave her, but it involved the summation of finding out I was preggs with Selah and being depressed for 5 months that I was going to be a mother again. Of course, the story ends so well, with our whole family being completely whole thanks to her addition. "Selah's story" is a perfect way to dissect the intricate love/fear relationship I have with being a mother.

Aside from the physical energy, extreme time management skills, and constant vigilance of everything, the emotional toll child-rearing puts on you is overwhelming. And, it NEVER ends. NEVER. How do I know this? My parents constantly worry and love over me. I am 35 for cripes sake! Stop already, you don't have to do this to yourself.

For the first time in 4 years I read an earlier blog post which I wrote in the "dark" years when the kids were little and I was consumed with diapers and tantrums and being a mother of two strong-willed toddlers. I felt brave today. I faced demons and, as it turned out, they were funny and real and I liked the girl that wrote those posts. As much as I have demonized who I was at that time, I was wrong. I survived and I'm content with who I am today and my past, inexperienced young self.

However, as Lola is catapulted into early adolescence, I hang my head at times and think, "WHAT in the world was I thinking having another one?" I peered into the future and realized I would never, ever stop worrying about her, Moses or Selah. Never. What a paralytic feeling it is when you realize that you're responsible for the upbringing of a human being(s). That responsibility is no more evident then when your child starts throwing your every word back in your face. Help me Jesus!

My immediate answer to the previous question was a cheerful, "I was born for this job!" But, in reality, who is? Who was born to raise children? We are thrust into this and God has to pour copious amounts of mercy on our soul daily. Pour, pour, pour. That is why woman are the stronger sex. My apologies for sounding reverse sexist, but the reality is women have to be warm, loving, obsessed with teachers and school,  multi-tasking disciplinarians and still have dinner on the table. It is so crazy messed up and contrary to human nature. Guess what? Woman have been in charge of raising the world forever since history was history (Genesis 2:18). Sorry guys, it is just the way it is. Your cool and all, but I know what the house looks like when I leave for the weekend....(and prepare ALL the food in advance).

So what do I say? Yeah, being a mother rocks, dude! Cuz I rule the world of three people. Three people who know I am capable of horrific acts of anger, picking my nose, sleeping in my clothes sometimes. They still love me! They constantly forgive me. Can you believe that? They still WORSHIP me, it goes way beyond just love. I am their "go-to" person on every occasion. I get to see them do wonderful acts of every imaginable brilliance and think, "I was a part of making this human, they identify with me."  And, not just human, but kick-ass human. Jesus gave me just the right amount of grace, love and stamina to be a mom today. Yeah Jesus, yeah me, yeah Mothers everywhere, forever and ever, amen.

Asher's 8th Birthday - Spyriffic!

I love the themes Lola comes up with for her birthday parties. My two personal favorites have been her Prom and her America's Got Talent. Both parties utilized stuff we already had at our house. They required very little prep and everyone had a BLAST! She came up with all her themes so she felt very proud when the results were AMAZING!

Rockin out with her BFFs!

DJ Daddy.

Americas Got Talent Barbie Party

Complete with a visit from Barbie herself.

One of the best benefits of being friends with the Baca's is getting invited to their unique and fun parties. Not to mention, they are one of the craziest fun couples we know!

Insane Bacas.

 
They come up with some of the most creative themes for kids birthdays, usually thought up by the children and catapulted into awesomeness by 2 brilliant parents. Last year Eden had a "Christmas in July." It is incredible how much fun it is to have a Christmas party in July. Annnnnd, you have already have all the decorations stored up in the attic.

The adorable Christmas Birthday Girl.

Christmas in July.

These parties are universally enjoyed by both parents and adults.

This year, true to their dedication to fun, Asher's birthday Party was a Spy party! The kids had so much fun! They were given clues at HQ. (A pop-up tent set up in the field across from their house) Then they were sent running all over the field, where they were met by members of the BIA (Baca Intelligence agency). Each member was from a different country and required the children to do some sort of physical silliness in order to receive their next clue. It was crazy involved and perfectly simple at the same time.

The BIA agents.

Wow, they REALLY enjoyed this.

Out the door for the adventure.

Instead of goodie bags, manila envelopes marked classified with their name on it.

The sleeping Syrian.

The man in the green shirt.

Off to the next clue.

And back to another clue.

Scotland Yard.

The BEST.

Gathering their loot for completion. Sunglasses.

Taking the BIA oath of office.

Finding the clue.

Best Daddy Ever!

Rushing and Perfection = Stress.

This is one of the many funny and distracting things they did to get out of going to bed.

We had a wonderful weekend. Lots of family time, 2 naps for me, both cars washed and detailed with lots of sunshine and laughter. We had plenty of fun while accomplishing a few tasks.

I had an unusual week last week and was unable to get to the grocery store. Sunday, at around 5, I packed the girls up and went to HEB. Upon returning home I looked at my refrigerator with wonder and horror. There was MUCH to be eaten, tossed and cleared. What in the world had I been doing having fun all weekend?  Fortunately, Mark was outside detailing my car, (best husband ever) and I allowed Lola to take Selah in the front to play. If anyone has ever had a toddler, they know cleaning out the fridge can be a logistical nightmare. At this point it was 6:30, our usual eating time. I could feel my anxiety starting to rise. I still had to clean out the fridge, unpack groceries, cook dinner, eat dinner, bath the girls, read books and put kids to bed. Please breathe self.

Dinner. Rounding children up from playing outside for three hours is an unfortunate task for all parties involved. I know the kids are going to go to bed late and I am already anticipating a cranky morning so I am feeling stressed about something that has not even happened. Daddy is exhausted after being play-mate #1 for 2 days, all the while fulfilling my to-do list. The kids, on the other hand, are trying to pull themselves from an outdoor world of relative freedom and sunlight into an indoor world of grouchy parents and a cacophony of questionable leftovers.  They don’t move fast enough for Pete’s sake. When we say “GET INSIDE!” in our loudest yelling voice, it does not mean take the bikes for another turn around the cul-de-sac. This grouchy/frustrated/time-is-ticking situation can turn a lovely weekend, into a sad ending with kids feeling confused and parents feeling frustrated and guilty. I feel sad when I think of how many times I barked at Moses to EAT already. As if it where his fault I did not grocery shop until Sunday, or that Mark is a perfectionist when it comes to things like detailing the car. The guilt did not come last night mind you. Oh, no. There was a well justified reason behind my hurried push to get the kids to bed. (At least I thought so last night)

Morning. I am homeroom parent and on the Hospitality committee at our school. Both are relatively easy jobs with little responsibility most of the year. However, Teacher Appreciation Week is a biggie. I had signed up to bring Kolaches and serve the teachers before school started on Monday. I woke myself at 6, showered with full make-up (whoot). Woke up Moe from a fit-full night of sleep (in our bed) in order to push him in the shower. I rolled Lola out of bed and into her clothes, and picked up baby from a peaceful slumber and shoved her in the car. I absolutely cannot believe that I got all three kids and myself in the car by 7. It was a miracle. I gave myself about 2 seconds to marvel at said accomplishment and then sent my mind racing to the next task at hand. Get 2 dozen kolaches, donut holes for the kids…oh, wait Lola wanted a kolache too. AH, and Moses wanted a chocolate donut, go back in shop to get promised donut. Here is where you can start to see the guilt seeping in. I actually got out of the car again and went back in and got him another donut. Who am I? Anyway, we arrived at school at 7:15 and we were the second car in the parking lot.

Hmmm? That is odd. I glance over at the school marquee and notice STARR testing is this week.

Hmmm? Another oddity. They did not even let us each lunch when the 4^th graders tested a few weeks ago. How are we going to deliver goodies and treats all week?

Ahh well, no time to ponder, “Get out!”  Kids, kolaches, stroller and back packs hauled into school before anyone else. HOORAY!!! I WIN!!

That is until the Vice-Principal informs me, very gently; Teacher Appreciation Week is next week.

 I have never thought of myself as a perfectionist, at least not much. However, having children has shown me I am control-freak perfectionist. I want their bed time to be perfect, even if, night after night, for 8 ½ years Lola shows me not every kid goes to bed at 8. I want them to eat everything I put on their plate at dinner, even though, evening after evening; Moses shows me not every kid is hungry at dinner. I want their manners, behavior; love of each other to be perfect, even though growing up is a process that takes day after day learning things that take a life-time to accomplish. It irritates me to no end when they have not learned these lessons post-haste.  How long does it take?  My behavior dictates that I seem to be in a rush. Well, how many times did I sing “ABCs” before they could sing it back? I don’t know, about 60 times a day for three years.  

What in my intent? To raise perfect children? Heavens no, or at least I don't want it to be. I want to raise persons that love Jesus, love others and know how to deal with rules and expectations. What is in my heart? Am I looking to raise perfection in order that I may look good? I will have to think on that. 

Luke 6:45 says. " A good person produces good things from the treasury of a good heart, and an evil person produces evil things from the treasury of an evil heart. What you say flows from what is in your heart."

Lola, the babushka.

Guess what? We get to do it all over again next Monday, because that is actually TAW. What to do different? Well, who knows? Not be so irritated that things are not right on schedule. Enjoy the fact that they get to eat donuts on a Monday morning. (Any day really) They are FUN kids! And, funny and ridiculously entertaining and creative. I need to remember, I am doing all this volunteer work so my kids can have a better experience in public school. Stop reminding them of that fact, and take into account, as far as their concerned, if it does not affect them directly they see no real value. They might or might not appreciate it one day, no matter.  Stop rushing them, stop rushing myself. Why put stress on little ones that already have to face a day without mommy after a weekend filled with loving parents?  It will all get done, one way or another. Pray. A lot. Pray for grace, patience, love, and peace in the imperfections and a heart that produces words worthy of a tape recorder. 

Words escape me. We were CRYING we were laughing so hard. (He is dressed up as Mark in a wig)

My Body Betrayed Me

I have had two friends battle breast cancer. I can be overwhelmed with their pain. I feel them. I was talking to my dear friend who has conquered the disease and she is still suffering. I was moved to write this poem for her.

My Body Betrayed Me

My body betrayed me.

My body betrayed me and left me for dead.

And I beat my hand across my breast and I yelled at the top of my lungs, “BODY! You will NOT betray me! You will NOT kill me.”

And I won.

My mind betrayed me.

My mind betrayed me and caused fear, confusion, doubt.

And I beat my hands across my breast and I yelled at the top of my lungs, “MIND! You will NOT betray me! You will NOT cause chaos.”

And I won.

My dignity betrayed me.

My dignity betrayed me and left me shame.

And I beat my hands across my breast and I yelled at the top of my lungs, “DIGNITY! You will NOT betray me! I will NOT be ashamed.”

And I won.

My friends betrayed me.

My friends betrayed me and left me alone.

And I beat my hands across my breast and I yelled at the top of my lungs, “FRIENDS! “You did NOT betray me! I am NOT alone.”

And I won.

My husband betrayed me.

My husband betrayed me and did not protect me.

And I beat my hands across my breast and I yelled at the top of my lungs, “HUSBAND! You did NOT betray me! You did protect me.”

And I won.

God betrayed me.

God betrayed me and allowed me to get sick, have fear, feel shame, be alone and unprotected.

And I beat my hands on my breast and yelled at the top of my lungs, “GOD! You will NEVER leave me or forsake me! You love me.”

And God won me.

10 For Wednesday

So, this was supposed to be a 10 for Tuesday, but wanted to wait till Wednesday.

1. How do you feel about Valentine’s Day?
I love Valentines Day! When I got married it was a huge deal for me to lavish my spouse with crazy gifts and huge meals. Over the years it has changed, it is now about my children. They love it. It is fun, they eat a ton of candy and it breaks up the long stretch between Christmas and Spring break. I appreciate a holiday that celebrates love.
2. Are you in love?
I am in love with so many things it makes me dizzy. I love my husband so-so-so much. I am totally in love with my three children. I love my friends, family even little Pepito. (Shocking development this love of my pet) and my killer fashion sense.

3. What is your favorite love song?
“Let’s Stay Together”, by Marvin Gaye” (Mark and I’s song), “Son of a Preacher Man”, by Dusty Springfield. Thanks to Glee, I have become totally obsessed with, ‘The First Time Ever I Saw your Face.” By Roberta Flack. The first time I ever heard Bruno Mars sing “You’re Amazing Just the Way You Are.” I burst into tears because this song could have been written by Mark. This is how he talks to me ALL the time. Seriously. Every morning he tells me how beautiful I am. Every afternoon after a hard day and I be lookin ripe, he tells me how sexy I am. (insert barf #1)

This picture is sinfully unattractive, it is Mark's favorite. He LOVES IT. I posting merely to prove a point.

4. Did your parents do anything for you on Valentine’s Day when you were a child?
Valentines Day was huge at our house. My parents made a big deal of celebrating with little gifts and notes of love. Yesterday my parents dropped off a bouquet of flowers to me! They still give us something every year. They are HUGE lovers of love.

Thank you for always making Valentines Day Fun!

5. What is your love language? (Click here if you want to take the quiz.)
Quality Time. I wonder if this is the case because Mark is not a big gift giver, so over the years I have lowered my expectation of gifts and learned to appreciate spending time with him. Physical Touch was a close second. I am a hugger of everyone. I love being around physical people. I usually associate my physical touch with safety. Those people that are safe I love.

I am crack addict addicted to touching and hugging and kissing this baby.

6. How do you celebrate Valentine’s Day? Gifts? Dinner?
It used to be a huge deal, very elaborate meal and nice gifts. Of course things changed three times for us, it is more about the kids now. (huge cliché)  I usually make a really nice dinner and we give each other a gift. This year Mark was sick. He went to bed early, after a bowl of beans. I am working on a painting for him. He is always complaining that I make stuff for everyone else and I never make anything for our house. Here is a picture of the rough draft. I am still working on it. I am planning on getting a tattoo, so I told him that would be my Vday/Anniversary gift.

It Is Well With My Soul - beginning stages

7. What is your favorite flower?
Right now, Peonies and Hydrangeas’. I despise carnations. They remind me of a funeral. I also LOVE wildflowers. I would like to have a lawn with one of those controlled wildflower gardens in the front. But, that could be in large part because it would eliminate those dreaded six words, “I have to do the lawn.” UGGG! 4 hours of precious Mark time down the drain mowing the lawn.
8. What is your favorite love story? (Book and/or movie.)
I like sad love stories. “Love Story” by Erich Segal. Both the book and the movie. It was the first book that every made me cry. Also sad love story, “Virgin Suicides” by Sophia Coppela, Yes, it is a love story about how the boys feel about the sisters. I also like happy ending stories. Pride and Prejudice. Book and movie. (Kira Knightly version)  HELLO! “Four Weddings and A Funeral.”, “Love Actually”, “An Officer and A Gentleman”, “Briget Jones’s Diary”, “You’ve got Mail.” I like all of them so so so much. I have watched every one of these movies more times then I care to reveal.
9. What is the most romantic thing someone has ever done for you? Or you have done for someone?
How do you even answer that? There are so many romantic moments that come and go. Big stuff? Our beautiful wedding in Lake Tahoe for starters. The amazing spirit of union was so incredibly strong those moments we spoke our vows. It was almost like we could touch it. Thank the Lord, that spirit has never left us, so there are incredibly romantic moments on a daily basis. (insert barf #2)

10. How did you meet your spouse/significant other?
Mark and I met at work. It is fun and long story. It was most definitely NOT love at first sight. I had just come out of a bad place in my life and my hair was dyed jet black and I wore burgundy lipstick. I also happened to be 19 and he was 28. But, over the next few years my look chilled and I got moved into a cubicle right in front of his office. I found myself looking for every excuse to go in there and talk to him, and he did the same. At one point, before we were even dating, I think we were sending each other 200 emails a day. I would say we were totally, hopelessly and completely in love before we ever even went on our first date. (insert barf  #3)

This was literally our first date. Note VERY short hair and braces. Good thing that skirt was so incredibly short...

My Rock Got Kicked

Three years and some months ago our families’ life changed. Mark lost his job. He lost his job of 13 years. He lost the job that brought us together as a couple. It was the hardest thing that has ever happened to him and me, and like many hard things, it was also the best thing that happened. A yoke had been lifted off our backs. God, in his infinite mercy, removed this job when we could not.

Mark was unemployed for 1 month. It was the best month of our marriage. I jokingly tell people everyone should experience unemployment for one month. He belonged to no one but us. He spent time with the kids, he spent time with me, and we enjoyed our family. We held on super tight to one another through an emotional grieving process. There were PLENTY of nerves, worry and more then a healthy dose of anxiety, that part was not fun. We knew God had removed the job, so he MUST have a plan for our future.

He took a job. He took a job at a 20% pay cut, he wore a uniform, and carried a tool box everywhere he went. Mark had no set hours and only 5 days off the entire year, no sick pay. He would frequently get up at 4-4:30 to be at a job in the Woodlands then hop in his truck to Sugar Land then downtown and back to the Woodlands, all in one day. He had to climb ladders, carry multiple tools and work under unrealistic time constraints.  

About a year into the job he let me know that people treated him different, second class. I was horrified. It made me so sad and angry. It made him sad for the people that were dialuzioned into thinking he was second class, no matter what job he held.  He said, and continues to say, that he is so grateful to have experienced that feeling. He knew what it felt like to be shamed because he was not dressed up or "important", and he would NEVER overlook anyone for any reason from that point forward. I loved him more.
 Each physically or mentally difficult job he did as if he owned the company. He woke up at those crazy hours and never complained. (hardly ever) He was my rock.

We would sit and hold each other sometimes on our couch and say, “This really sucks.” We knew, we so so so knew, that there were tons of people worse off, and it gave us a comradeship with those people. Sure, our kids are not homeless and they get almost everything they want, but this is not the life we want either.

The experience of a bad job was the best thing our family was exposed to. Mark had an appreciation an epiphany; family and Christ is what define me, not my  job. We had made it a point to eat together as a family a few nights a week before; it became MANDATORY. Every single weekend was precious, every detail of every part of our life outside "the job" was sacred.

I think I would have gone crazy without his constant voice of faith. He knew this was an interim job, we needed to be patient. Mark believed God had made him a promise. I had to have faith.

We got pregnant. We had Selah. Moses started Kindergarten. By God’s grace, and a village of support, we were learning to survive.  

A little over a year ago, a client of his company, a law firm, recognized what I saw in him. And just like that, our lives changed again.

I had  no idea how much stress a bad job was on our family unit, until it was gone. We were so free. FREEEEEE!

“I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I'll listen.” Jeremiah 29:11-12

Chase Tower

Mark loves his job. He wears a tie, he has a beautiful office on the 42^nd floor, and he has tremendous benefits with ample time off. Sill, it is just a job. I am grateful for what we have, today. What is to stop complacency in the future? To start, I need to remember to ask God every single day to remind me how blessed I am. 

The Cutest EVER

Great perk to working downtown? Lunch with Daddy!

I never pass up the opportunity to photograph food.

Greek Salad from Niko Niko's!!!

Big Girl Chair

Eating Mommy's Pita

Her First Fountain

I love Market Square Park, and babies...and my boots.

I Will Have to Choose Forgiveness

Motherhood is funny, sometimes ha-ha funny, sometime not ha-ha funny, more like “is this a sick joke?” funny.  I had a baby. I changed. I had absolutely no idea how little I changed, until I had three babies. I lost myself somewhere in the throws of two toddlers. I found myself again while pregnant with the third child. During that pregnancy, I was so overwhelmed with fear I would lose myself again, and God graciously pointed out, I was still lost.  I have beaten myself to a bloody emotional mess so many times it became redundant and I had to face my guilt and my glory. The Lord sheltered me, and gave me peace when I was at utter unrest. With His guidance I started looking at my journey thus far with a mindset of joy and victory.

 I am a mother, a loving, kind, fun, generous, selfish and sometimes angry mother. Practically, and painfully I have to look back at the times when I was so angry and reflect on that moment of disconnect between rational and rage. What made me so mad? Exhaustion? Fear? Frustration? The horror that this was going to happen tomorrow and the next day, and the next? Telletubbies?  I tend to think of that time, or really I do not like to think of that time at all. What a shame. This is one of the things I began to explore when pregnant. WHY was I so afraid of the past? I believe I was so completely convinced I had totally screwed up, that I blocked out 5 whole years? Short, precious years I will never have again, with sweet memories intermingled with sadness. I can tell you this, no matter how many times the people around you say strong willed children are always very-very smart and grow up to be leaders, it DOES NOT MATTER to the mother when two kids are throwing a temper tantrum at the library, the store, the restaurant, the (any public place ripe for humiliation)? It was as if I attached myself so directly to their irrational behavior, ahhh here it comes, I lost myself.

I had a sage piece of advice when Lo was very young. “True, God gives us the right parents, but He also gives us the right children too.”  They changed me. They caused me to dig in and be more strong willed then them; I had to finish each punishment down to the letter. I had to plant my feet on Christ, my friends and my family. I had to pray, and pray and pray.  I had to get over myself. I needed to be humiliated and disobeyed. My-self, me, Jenny, needed to realize the world is a bigger place then my wants and needs. I needed to realize that I was a child and the kids were taking over my playground, my life.

Most amazing of all this, who would they be without the younger me? Not who they are today. In these many months of reflection I look at my older children and recognize what God had done for them through me. They are brilliant, successful, and independent, they love Jesus!!! They have nice manners and wash their hands after going to the bathroom. They love others. They are not violent or rude. (Most of the time) Their teachers love them, other people love them. I LOVE them. We are all more prepared and comfortable with each other. They have given me a rare gift, a total and complete appreciation for the baby. They have given me perspective. They have lowered my expectations to the best possible end result. They have made me a better mother.  

Onward Christian Soldiers. I have forgiven myself; I have allowed Christ to forgive me. Through the grace of God, I move forward and continue to battle guilt and fear as a parent. It will always be there, nagging, questioning me. I will do my best to choose joy and victory whenever possible. When impossible, I will have to choose forgiveness.