I Need My Step Stool!

I wish my toddler would stop growing.

I was watching him tonight pull his step stool to the sink so he could brush his teeth. He has to stretch his toes to reach the faucet.

And I thought to myself, Please don’t get any bigger. He’s at this sweet stage right now, where his pudgy little body still fits on my hip, his hand can wrap around my one finger, and his eyes light up when he sees something new. I’m not ready for him to grow up more.

But I am ready for this journey of mine to…GET A MOVE ON!

19 - step stool

This blog started with my journey to a yell-free home. I hated the loud voice that kept showing up in frustration, and felt I had to change. Writing about it has been my method of accountability and means for improvement.

Like my toddler, I’ve been using steps along the way to help reach my goal. Recognizing my triggers and avoiding them. Using new tricks to keep the boys from arguing. Planning fun things to prevent their boredom.

I reach for my goal daily, but there are times it feels like I haven’t gotten very far. Once in a while, the step stool gets kicked out from beneath me.

Makes me wonder if this goal is even possible. Worthy? Yes! But is it possible?

As it says in the book of Matthew, “With God, all things are possible.”

Here I am stretching myself as tall as I can to be the super-patient, never-failing, wise mom I have in my head…wishing she’d show up already…and I’ve been forgetting that I need to rely on God to get me there, not my step stools.

And it won’t happen overnight. It will likely take longer than I wish.


     But do not forget this one thing,
dear friends: With the Lord a day
is like a thousand years, and a
thousand years are like a day.
 
                                       2 Peter 3:8


His time is not the same as mine. But just like my toddler will reach new heights when the time is right, I’ll get there when it’s time. Because He knows when that is, and He will help get me there.

Dear God, I promise to use YOU as my step stool…if you promise to get me there in fewer than a thousand years. Deal?

No deals, just faith! 🙂

Dear Heaven-Kept Child…

Sold the crib today.

It reminded me that I’m officially not having more children.

It also reminded me that I actually had three, not two.

Trying to get pregnant is exhausting! You do silly things despite the fact that they’re complete myths. Get those legs up, can’t hurt to use a little gravity – don’t go to the bathroom right away, gotta give it some time – should we be active 3 days in a row or every other day?

Wanting a sibling for our son was what kept my hopes up during that year and a half of trying. And finally seeing those two pink lines washed a load of worry off my shoulders.

But it wasn’t to be.

18 - heaven child_pinterest

A miscarriage is not something talked about without sorrow. For some, it’s not talked about at all. I was amazed that almost every woman I shared my loss with confessed a similar experience. It’s more frequent than we think, so please don’t ever feel like you’re alone.

When I experienced this loss, I could have been angry, but I wasn’t. And certainly not at God. In fact, a large part of me was grateful to him. Grateful that he saved my child from unforeseen suffering had it not been able to develop fully. I thanked him for saving me and my husband from facing an even greater heartbreaking situation. I was comforted that he saved my child from experiencing pain or heartache.

But mostly, I was just sad. Incredibly, heart-heavy sad. This sadness was caused by 3 troubling thoughts.

I will never meet this child. A part of me and my husband helped create this new person. And I would never get to meet him or her. Never hear this child’s laughter or voice, feel a little hand on my arm, look into the eyes of a new soul. But I should specify this to say “here on earth.” If you haven’t read Heaven is for Real, I highly recommend it. Especially for anyone who has experienced a miscarriage. I truly believe it is proof that we will meet these heaven-kept children again. And when I meet my child, he or she will be more than just a several-week old baby from inside my womb. I will meet a little person, as he or she was intended to be. And I will ask to hear about the gift of a life in heaven.

I don’t know if you were a boy or girl. Our loss occurred at 11 ½ weeks. Far enough along to think we were in the clear, but not able to know gender. But I will…someday. Sometimes I picture the girl I had been dreaming to know, find out if she has dark hair like me, green eyes like her dad, and if her heart and mind are strong like I would have hoped. Other days I picture another boy as individual and independent as his brother, see what makes his sweet face different, and wonder what the musketeers would be like.

How long will I have to wait? It is draining and can push hope to your boundaries…waiting to see those two pink lines. I didn’t want to go through it again. It took a year and a half to get pregnant with my first-born, the same amount of time with this second. How long would it take the next time? I worried it might not happen at all. What if the pink lines would never show again? No sibling for my beloved son was another potential loss that was heavy on my heart.


     A woman giving birth to a child
     has pain because her time has come;
but when her baby is born, she
forgets the anguish because of her
joy that a child is born into the world.
 
                                       John 16:21


Although I didn’t experience the pain of delivering this child, I also didn’t have the joy of meeting this new little one. But I do have joy…in knowing that the life God gave us is sitting next to Jesus in heaven, full of bliss and comfort.

“Until we meet, my little one…please lay a blanket out next to you. Save us all a spot. Because in addition to me and your Dad, there are your two brothers to meet.”

The Lord hath taken away, but the Lord gives, too. He answered our prayers for another child. And although the wait was long again, I kept faith, I never stopped hoping. So keep your faith, your hope. All things are possible with Him.

And if your prayers for another child are never answered, know that your heaven-kept child is waiting to meet you. Perhaps ours are sitting together with Jesus now! 🙂


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From Party-Pooper to Strawberry-Picker

I can be a big drag.

My efforts to avoid conflict, wasting money, and extra work ends up sucking the fun out of things.

  • When hubby suggests ordering pizza…We shouldn’t eat out. I just went to the grocery store.
  • When the boys start wrestling…Stop! Someone’s going to get hurt.
  • When the boys want to make a fort in the living room…I just cleaned up. Can’t we leave it this way for 30 minutes?

Why am I such a party pooper? The voice of responsibility in my brain is serious. A little too serious.

I don’t want to be remembered for this…pooping on everyone’s parade. Who would? But it’s an important job, and I have no volunteers at my house. 🙂

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I finally rifled through the papers from the last day of school. Yes, they’ve been on my kitchen table all this time. No, I’m not nearly this disorganized in real life. Oh, this is real life. Well, my party-pooping responsibility gene does not exclude procrastination. I also blame it on an endless to-do list.

I tossed most of the expired papers aside – guess I missed that field trip – good score on that test – note to self: need to work on his writing this summer –totally forgot about that reading log!

Then, I found my Mother’s Day gift. Shoot! Better work on his organization, too. I read through the writings.

  • My Mom taught me…how to walk when I was a baby.
  • My Mom made me giggle when…she tickled me.
  • My Mom is special because…she is the best mom in the world. Awww!
  • My Mom is happiest…when we clean.

Wait – back up! Mom is happiest when we clean? Uh-oh! Something needs to change.

There’s always a need to clean, plan, schedule, do bills, check emails, follow-up on stuff, make lists. For example, how bad is it that my to-do list has a task for making another to-do list? 🙂 Our summer bucket list, to be exact – strawberry picking included. I had been trying to find a date that would work, and the season was nearing its end.

I’m endlessly trying to tackle the to-do list. I know I won’t ever lose the responsible side of me, taking care of our family and home. But sometimes, I want to be the spontaneous mom, the fun mom, the let’s-go-strawberry-picking-mom!

Which I was just last week. The day was hot. The kids were bored. They needed a distraction. I could see tempers rising with the heat index. The kind of situation where the mood can change, and frustration is just over the horizon. Which I’m trying to avoid with my crusade for a yell-free home.

A breakdown was on its way, I just knew it. Probably mine. It was 4:30. A local farm was open until 6:30. I suddenly announced, “We’re going strawberry picking, boys!”

We rushed to search for old clothes and shoes. My oldest didn’t complain once that his unmatched outfit looked strange. I’ve never seen my toddler find his shoes faster (he prefers bare toes). We tossed ourselves in the hot car, blasted the air conditioning, grabbed fast food, and drove west. No one complained the drive took too long. My toddler ate his entire cheeseburger. My oldest ate too fast, and his stomach hurt, but he refused to let me turn around.

This idea could go bad, I thought. But I didn’t stress about behavior or boredom or complaints. What happened would happen.

What happened was…the Best. Day. Ever!

They were angels. My son picked almost as many berries as I did. My youngest even helped, though he ate just about as much. I teased him that we would need to put him on the scale to pay for the ones in his belly. No one stepped on the plants. No one picked the wrong berries. No one complained.

After filling our baskets, the boys walked halfway down the row to the water cooler – holding hands. Where is a camera when you need one? If they could implant a camera in my brain that I could just click with the blink of my eyes, I would totally consider that! 🙂

A woman noticed, “Now, that’s a really good big brother,” she said. I gushed pride. He is a great big brother. They returned together, my little one still pouring water into his mouth, my oldest carrying a cool drink for me without being asked. Life is good, I thought.

On the wagon ride back to the check-out, I felt blessed. Holding my two boys who build a brotherly bond stronger each day. Enjoying the late evening sun on my face, small fingers playing with my hair, and another’s hand on my knee. We searched for butterflies, and reported the flower colors we saw in the fields. We guessed at what was growing in the new rows. We awed at how big the tractor tires were.


     So I commend the enjoyment of life,
     because there is nothing better for
a person under the sun than to eat
and drink and be glad. Then joy will
accompany them in their toil all the
days of the life God has given to them
under the sun. 

                                       Ecclesiastes 8:15


On the way home, everyone was hungry again. A happy, outdoor afternoon can do that, I guess. So we stopped at a drive-in. It was new to us. We sat at an outdoor picnic table with a giant checkerboard painted on top and hockey-puck sized pieces. What genius came up with this, I wondered? We played while waiting for our food.

I realized I can be both moms. The sensible one who needs to keep order in the house and teach her kids responsibility along the way, and the fun mom who can be spontaneous and let go once in a while.

At the table, my oldest confessed.

  • [Him: My shirt, shoes, and shorts look pretty funny.]
  • [Me: Does that bother you?]
  • [Him: No.]
  • [Him: Sometimes it’s okay when things aren’t so perfectly planned.]
  • [Him: Yeah. Today was perfect, though.]
  • [Me: What made it perfect?]
  • [Him: We got to pick berries, we found this new restaurant, you taught me checkers, it’s still sunny out…]
  • [Me: I agree. This is a great day.]
  • [Him: And this is the BEST cheeseburger I’ve ever had in my LIFE!]

Funny how things are a little sweeter when unexpected. It can be small acts like I shared in my post about using a big bowl. Or it can be a little bigger like this road trip to the farm. Either way, spontaneity can add the spice life needs. And remind us to enjoy it. Especially for this chronic party pooper.

Note to self: Plan more unscheduled fun in our future! They may end up being the best days ever!

Busy-Mom Confession: After looking at the Mother’s Day gift more closely, I realized it belonged to another student in my son’s class. See, that organization thing needs work. I left this post as is, though, because I’m sure the cleaning comment could have easily been about me. Good to know I’m not the only Mom guilty of such things! I wonder if she’s been strawberry-picking yet. 🙂


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My Favorite Thing…Sleep

I’m a horrible cuddler.

Let me specify. When I first go to bed at night, I can’t do the falling asleep in someone’s arms thing. I need my space. Sorry, honey!

So it’s a bit unusual that one of my favorite things has been sleeping with my kids. In our bed.

Uh-oh! I’ve likely unleashed some parenting judgment. The clicking of the tongue (tsk tsk), the gasps of horror that we bring the kids into our bed…

I’ve heard all about ruining my child’s ability to be a long-term, healthy sleeper. That they need to learn to sleep, wake, and fall back to sleep again by themselves. And I totally get it – it’s valid. I’m throwing a different perspective out there anyway.

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Let me explain that our toddler has never been a good sleeper. Never. If you’ve ever experienced a bad sleeper, you’re probably already nodding your head in understanding. To those parents – hopefully, this post will remind you that you’re not alone and to not feel so bad about bringing them into bed with you at times.

Thank goodness, his sleeping has improved. He naps beautifully! Sleeps soundly for a good two hours, wakes, rolls out of his bed, and simply walks down the hall to reunite with his family.

But nighttime can be a different story. In my blog about choking out weeds, I shared how my toddler has vivid dreams, often of trivial conflicts. He talks in his sleep, and his dreams wake him with distress at times. Being jolted from sleep 3-4 times a night was just too much for us parents, so we’ve learned to be flexible. He always starts in his own bed, but he may not always remain there.

It’s funny…when he has his toddler tantrums during the day, my method is to leave him in his room to calm down and work it out for himself. He comes out when his tantrum is over, saying, “I’m done, Mama.” It’s not always quick, but he gets there. My hubby, on the other hand, tells me I need to console him, distract him, and he’ll calm down easier.

Different methods – I’m not sure which is better, but I do feel differently at night about the whole “let him work it out himself.” And yes, we have tried the crying it out thing. It worked…not so much.

There were times I could feel my frustration meter skyrocket when he woke at night. I blame it on sleep deprivation. Even if I didn’t show it, I could feel it. There were grumblings under my breath of Just. Go. To Sleep! and Please God, help him stop crying! I’d try to stay firm about him remaining in bed. But he could feel my frustration, too, and that just caused more crying.

At 2 am, you want a quick fix. How can I remove this head-pounding wail, avoid my 8-year old from being disturbed, and return the household to sleepyland as quickly as possible?

Hence, the decisions at times to pull him into bed with us.

The good thing about his sleep-talk is that he also sleep-listens. When he wakes from a dream lying next to us, we can lull him back to sleep with ease. Sometimes it’s as simple as answering him, “No, your brother isn’t in the room anymore, so he can’t take your toy car.” Wallah! Dream-conflict solved, and he’s back to sleep.

Honestly, I’m not worried about our toddler’s future ability to sleep on his own. When my oldest was a toddler, he slept with us now and then. And he’s the best sleeper of the family now! Out like a light the entire night. The only time he wakes is if he has a nightmare, which is seldom. When it happens, though, one of us doesn’t hesitate to lie down with him. I want him to know we’ll always be there to help, comfort, protect him, if need be.

Let me assure you we did not sleep with our newborns. The risk of rolling over onto them was too scary. But the odds of us harming our toddler is null. There’s a greater chance of him hurting us.

We’ve been kicked, whacked, shoved, poked, head-butted – I even got a puffy upper lip once from an elbow at just the right angle. 🙂 Some nights we’d wake at the risk of leaving the very edges of our King-sized bed while our toddler slept sideways between us – head in the crook of my side and feet digging into hubby’s back. BTW – What’s bigger than a King? A California King doesn’t cut it. I need more width, not length. Does anyone make an Emperor bed?

By being flexible with the sleeping, I truly believe we’re meeting his need at this stage in his life. When he wakes in the middle of the night feeling upset, he needs consoling. If lying between mom and dad offers him the comfort he needs to return to a peaceful sleep, I’m okay with that. He won’t be asking to do that when he’s fourteen, so I know it’s temporary. And along the way, I hope it builds confidence in him with a strong support system of love.


     Praise be to the God and Father
     of our Lord Jesus Christ, the
Father of compassion and the God
of all comfort, who comforts us in all
our troubles, so that we can comfort
those in any trouble with the comfort
we ourselves receive from God. 

                                       2 Corinthians: 3-4


I’ll be honest, having him next to me is one of my favorite things. As a baby, my oldest used to nap on my chest on his tummy. I’d lay there with a physical feeling of peace. My body would feel relaxed, warm, and still. Nothing in the world felt more peaceful than his little body’s soft breathing. It was pure comfort. I missed that with my youngest – he just didn’t sleep like that with me. But I’ve learned that he, too, feels peace sleeping near us.

The other night I avoided frustration over his cries by reminding myself that I’m the person he relies on to comfort him – he needs me for this, not to lay down the law in the middle of the dark night. So, when he calmed a bit, I asked how I could help him.

  • [Me: Did you have a bad dream, sweetie?]
  • [Him: No.]
  • [Me: Are you upset that you woke up and still feel sleepy?]
  • [Him: Yes.]
  • [Me: What can I do to help?]
  • [Him: I want to go in the big bed with you and Dadda.]
  • [Me: Why do you want to go in the big bed, honey?]
  • [Him: (in his sweet, groggy, sleep-filled, small voice) Because it’s my favorite thing.] How can you say no to that? 🙂

Mine too, buddy! Come on – I’ll carry you!

Side note: I don’t blame my sleep deprivation on kids alone. Most times, it’s just my brain that refuses to shut down. When I woke one night at 1:00 am, resulting in insomnia, I laid there actually writing this post in my head. I resorted to getting up to write it down before I lost my thoughts. So I have my own sleep troubles at times. And no, my parents did NOT let me sleep with them. 🙂

 


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Go Ahead, Use the Big Bowl

Does the answer “Just because…” frustrate you like it does me?

  • [Me: Why did you smack your brother’s arm?]
  • [Him: Just because.]
  • [Me: That’s not a reason.]
  • [Him: Yes, it is.] Ugh!

I imagine they get tired of answering Why? questions just like we do.

  • [Him: Why are we going down this street?]
  • [Me: Because this is the way to the store.]
  • [Him: Why are we going to the store?]
  • [Me: Because we need milk.]
  • [Him: Why do we need milk?]
  • [Me: Just because!] Ugh!

Because we do…just because…because I said so. You know you’ve used those a few times. Despite the fact that you want real answers when you ask the questions.

But sometimes there is no reason. It’s random, impetuous, impulsive. Kids just being kids. Actually, it’s the very freedom we want them to feel because we know future grown-up days lack it. Big time.

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And why is that? Why can’t we adults be more impulsive? There doesn’t have to be a solid, thought-out reason for everything, does there?

I’m shooting for a little more impulsivity. Summer is the perfect backdrop for this. We’re supposed to slow down to smell the flowers, stop and look for cloud animals, feel the grass between our toes. Enjoy some freedom.

I’ve started a search this summer for things we do…just because.

Like tonight when I impulsively grabbed a blanket, a pillow, and laid beneath the clouds to enjoy the breeze and setting sun. You know what happened? The basketball stopped bouncing, and I was quickly joined by my 8-year old. We found cloud-fish, a cloud-dragon, and I saw a lady in a hat blowing into a kazoo. Yeah, I have no idea where that one came from. 🙂

Such simple things can help us stop all the constant motion and create memories.

Here’s a favorite of mine – backyard movie nights. We had a big Tahoe with a third seat and drop-down movie screen. One night, after getting our PJs on, we grabbed blankets and pillows and hauled the kids out to the Tahoe. They were pretty confused. My husband drove into the backyard (yes, on the grass he cares for so well), hit the lights, and we watched a Disney movie. So fun! It felt silly driving on the grass – that was fun all on its own – definitely not the norm. But parking in your own yard in the middle of the night when everyone else is probably in the house or in bed is double fun!

It doesn’t always have to be something big. A just because moment can be as simple as a kitchen bowl.

When the only family member willing to hit a grocery run with me was my 2-year old, I felt extra giving. Bless my toddler, he still says yes to running errands with me.

We got ice cream…just because. He wanted mint, so I grabbed mint…just because.

It was ½ hour from bedtime, and I could see in the rear view mirror that I was losing him to sleepyland. I didn’t want him going there just yet, so I struck up a conversation.

  • [Me: What kind of bowl do you want your ice cream in – a big one or a little one?]
  • [Him: A little one. (pause) No, a big one.]
  • [Me: A big one it is.]
  • [Him: I want it in the big salad bowl we just got at Walmart.] First of all, his memory awes me – that was 2 weeks ago. Secondly, this is not an individual salad bowl; this is the bowl you put the whole tossed salad in!
  • [Me: Okay.] Thinking, he’ll probably forget or change his mind.

But then I got home and thought, Why not? It would be fun to hand him a bowl practically half his size. Granted, the ice cream serving will be normal-sized. But why does the bowl have to be? It doesn’t add any work. A bowl is a bowl and either one gets cleaned afterward.

So I did…just because. He got a kick out of it, and didn’t even notice the serving size of the ice cream.

And although I keep saying these things are done just because…they do actually have a purpose. To remind our kids (and ourselves) to find joy in the little things. And maybe even more important, that it’s okay to be impulsive sometimes – to let go and be spontaneous. I forget to do that.

I’m hoping the just because answer turns from a rolling-of-the-eyes, frustrated response to an eyes-lit-up, happy response. Where I do something impulsively fun and unexpected and my kids ask why, and I happily answer, Just because! And they’ll smile…knowing what that answer truly means.

Randomly, in the middle of playing basketball, my little one surprised me with a declaration of love.

  • [Him: I love you, Mama.]
  • [Me: I love you, too. (pause) What made you say, I love you?]
  • [Him: Just because I love you.]

Just because…that’s good enough for me!

What just because moments are you creating with your kids? Please share…and give us all some great ideas!

The One Four One

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Furniture makeovers, vintage treasures, gathering in my "soul shed", and teaching everyday women to DIY.