Mother's Day Fantasies...

I struggle with Mother's Day.

I mean, isn't every mother's dream just to have a little recognition that you are the best thing that ever happened to your children?

Or is that just me?

It isn't that I expect diamonds or fancy meals or huge bouquets of flowers.  Or teary speeches about the impact I have made in my kids' lives.

It is just that I want a fun day. A day of peace. A day of love.

Let me explain.

Fantasy Mother's Day:
I wake up to find my husband standing there with bags packed.  We kiss our four well-behaved children on the cheek, wave good-bye, then drive to the airport where the private jet is waiting to whisk us away to the beach. My husband has packed a brand new dress that looks amazing on me.  We dine on fresh seafood right there on the beach, watching the sun set.

Can you hear it? The waves crashing against the sand?  The call of sea gulls in the distance?

Ahhh...

The Wishful Thinking Mother's Day:
I wake up, feeling refreshed. Not because a child woke me up. Or the dog demanded to eat at 6 a.m. I wake up just because I am rested.

I am greeted with Mother's Day greetings and a bouquet of spring flowers.

Then my family brings me breakfast in bed.  (Just to be fair, that has happened before)

My children all walk in, presentable for church. We don't have to ask anyone to change into something more appropriate.  And the kids sweetly get along.  All the way to church.

After church, we come home, change our clothes, and head out on a hike.  All of us. Not one person reminds us that they don't understand the point of being in the woods.  We just go and truly enjoy one another.  Oh, and since this is wishful thinking, I get some amazing pictures. Not one person complains that I am taking yet another picture.

After enjoying nature, we come home for a delicious meal that is NOT prepared by me.  I get to just sit, enjoy my ice cold Coca-Cola, and eat.  Then my children jump up to eagerly clear off the table and clean off.

We finish the night with snow cones on the back patio.

And I drift off to sleep with a smile on my face.

Now, the Reality Mother's Day:
The dog wakes me up to tell me she is hungry. An hour earlier than any other day.  Our youngest child pops in the room with a made up reason for being up early.

Finally I drag myself out of bed only to hear children complaining that it is Sunday and I didn't make a thing for breakfast. Gasp.

We get ready for church, sending at least one child back to try again on their outfit.  Then we head to church, arguing in the background.

After church, I will try to nap.  The arguing of children will keep me awake.

Sometime during the day, with a little prompting, the kids will say "Happy Mother's Day".  One will give me a card she made at school. The other will forget that he ever made something or will have left it at school; I may or may not ever see it.  One child will promise to buy me something the next time I take him to Sonic or the snow cone place. And one child will search her room for something to wrap and give me.  

Somehow we will have dinner.

And then the day will be over.

And I will avoid Facebook all day so I don't have to see how perfect everyone else's day was.

The truth is, some of my Mother's Days have been "perfect" (including a couple where Mark took the kids somewhere else and let me stay at home alone as well as one weekend away to one of my favorite hiking spots in Arkansas).  And some have been less than stellar (having "I hate you!" thrown at me by at least two children and then last year when we were still waiting for the results of Mark's MRI).

I have read some good posts recently about Mother's Day.  I have struggled with that desire for the  "wishful thinking Mother's Day" (and the disappointment that will always follow).  And I have come to realize something.

It isn't the gifts. Or the breakfast in bed.  Or the ideal day to post on Facebook to show everyone how loved I am.

It really boils down to needing reassurance.  Knowing that I am not botching this motherhood gig.  Wanting to not feel like a failure.

Because I do.

I feel like it every single day.

Every night as I sink into my bed, the many ways I have failed run through my head. Over and over. Like they are stuck on repeat.

Sometimes my kids tell me.  Unashamedly.  Other times I can see it on their faces.  But more often than that, I just know.

So maybe what I really want for Mother's Day is peace.  Freedom from those thoughts.  A sense of accomplishment rather than failure.  And the promise that one day, I may get this right. Maybe.

Reba

How Do I Love Thee?

Yes, I am still gratituding (most days). I am sure I will have plenty to share on Thursday. That being said, last week was a tough week. I can only hope this one will be better.  Please.  Pretty please?

So I have written several posts this past week. In my head.  Like "The Life of a Teacher". "Omaha Fun".  "Down and Out in Ozark Hills".  "Poster Child for Adoption". Yes. All of those.

But I settled on this one when one of my children, yet again, asked, "Do you really love me?"

So this is written to my children and husband.

Some tongue in cheek.

Some truth.

How Do I Love Thee?

Let Me Count Thy Ways...

• Even after a full day of watching volleyball games, I still go to the grocery store to buy food to cook for you all week.
• I clean the sink out any chance I have, just because I know you like it that way.
• I get the smallest shake with the leftover ice cream on shake night.
• I listen to endless dialogues about Star Wars characters.  Or at least I pretend to...
• I stay up until midnight cleaning, preparing food, etc.  Then I am up early in the morning to start the day, pack lunches, etc.  And I usually end up with about 10 minutes to get myself ready for the day.
• I am the last one to sit down to eat our pancake/bacon dinner. While you all are eating, I was at the griddle, flipping pancakes. And my bacon is cold by the time I sat down (to an empty table).
• I went to a volleyball tournament. On Valentine's Day.
• In fact, I spend many good hiking days watching volleyball games. Inside.
• I get up early on Sunday mornings (when I really would rather sleep) to make breakfast for everyone.
• I share my prized pistachios with you.
• I sit next to you with sports blaring on the t.v. just to spend time with you.
• I sit through countless music programs, choir concerts, school presentations, etc.
• I reach out to your teachers (without you ever knowing) when I know you are struggling or hurt or treated unfairly (or so you think).
• I watch you do the same trick on the trampoline thirty million times, oohing and ahhing every time.
• I note the things you notice or like or mention for possible future gift ideas.
• I huddle in the cold to watch you play soccer or baseball.
• I don't read books often because I know I will get lost in that world and forget about you.
• I go to Target late at night for that list minute friend birthday gift or a wardrobe crisis.
• I go to school earlier than I wish each day because you signed up for early morning activities.
• I leave school early each day though I know I could work there for hours (at night and on the weekend).
• I search for Coke bottles with your name on them.
• I sit through cartoons for Popcorn/Shake night.
• I spend a lot of time wrapping all those birthday gifts that will be open in 3 minutes.
• I stay up at night, holding your sick body, wishing I could take any and all illness away.
• I take family vacations instead of the extensive travel I would like to do.
• I read books, I pray, I talk to friends, all to find out how to be a better mom (and wife).

I know there are many more but I must head to bed.

How do you show love for your family?

Twas the Night Before the Night Before Christmas...

No. I didn't hit the Jackpot. We won 23 dollars.  To split among a bunch of us.  We gave it to charity instead. :)

Anyway, I need to be sleeping but these thoughts are swirling around in my mind...

This is obviously adapted from Twas the Night Before Christmas by Clement Moore...

Twas the night before the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except Reba Cloud
The stockings were hung by the fireplace with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were sprawled all over their beds,
While visions of iPads danced in their heads.
And Dad just a snoring, the dog in his lap,
Had settled down for a long winter’s nap.

When in the other room, there are such a clatter,
I sprang to action to see what was the matter.
Away to the wrapping paper, I flew like a flash,
As my heart began to race and I broke out in a rash.

A present is missing, I thought with great fear.

As slowly my blue eyes filled up with tears
I prayed and I prayed for that present to appear,
But sadly I discovered it just wasn't here.

I threw aside the tape and scissors, and to the table did run,

Finding our Christmas cards sitting undone.

I grabbed up the labels, and I let out a small sigh of shame
As I wearily began to call out each name.

"Now Smiths! now, Jones! now, Williams and Mils!
On, Thompson! On, Davis! on Presleys and Hills!
To the envelopes, I quickly went to work
Slapping down those labels with a little hand jerk.

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
I noticed the redness in my very tired eyes.
I glanced at the clock, and listened to the tick tock,

As I saw the time was 2 o'clock.

I dashed to the kitchen, and washed my weary hands

To make dough for the Christmas cookie demands.
I quickly threw in the butter, egg, and all purpose flour,

Trying not to notice the very late hour.

My eyes, how bloodshot, my arms how they ached.
I began to look cross-eyes, oh for goodness sake
My mouth was drawn up, into a tired frown.
While my shoulders so weary began to cast down.

The t.v. in the background filled the room with noise,
As I continued to wrap up outfits and toys.
The room was littered with tape, paper, and tags,

Along with dozens of Amazon boxes and Target bags.

I was chubby and plump, a right weary old elf,
And I laughed when I saw my face in the mirror, in spite of myself!
A blink of my eyes and a nod of my head,
Soon let me know I must go to bed.

I spoke not a word, but continued my work,
And wrapped a few more presents, then turned with a jerk.
I brushed my teeth, surveyed the many piles,
And decided that the rest could wait a little while!

I turned off the light and crawled into my bed,
While visions of to do lists whirled through my head.
As I rolled over to sleep, I let out a small sigh,
Trying not to think of all left to do with a cry.

Tomorrow's Christmas Eve, and there's still so much to do before the fun...

 As I remember once again, a mother's work is never done.

Merry Christmas!

Reminders

As is true fashion for me these days, I started another blog post a few days ago.  Still not done.  I can't even blame busyness. I have just been tired.  No other excuses. Just tired. And maybe a little down.

It was a blah kind of weekend.  Lots of errands.  Cold and dreary outside.  Whiny children.  Feeling like I am cooking and cleaning to no avail.  And apparently child 4 reacted to the preservatives in the flu shot he got on Friday. I had wanted the flu mist for that reason but there was none to be had.  So it was not a great weekend all around.

So today after church, I was about to a breaking point.  Like an "I am going to scream really loud" breaking point.  Every person in my house was getting on my nerves. I had some extra cooking chores to get some stuff ready for school.  I was worried about little pup after she had gotten a plate leftover from donuts.  (Thankfully I think the child had licked the plate clean...she never even got sick)  Child 2 had volleyball practice.  I just wanted to take a nap but we had some place to be at 3.  Plus I needed to get a head start on dinner.

Just then the phone rang.

That is fairly rare in our house.

I recognized the name (a co-worker from school).  I debated on whether to answer it. I was not really in a good mood. The kids were loud.  Maybe I could just call back later when it was quieter and I was happy. 

Instead, I picked it up.

My co-worker was calling to invite me to a concert at her church to watch a family perform.  The family's "stage name"?  Twice Adopted.  I had seen a flyer for it but had dismissed going due to the time of day. 

However, my co-worker went on to explain that there are 10 children adopted into this family.  7 of them were from Guatemala.

And suddenly I was interested in going. 

Yes, I still wanted to take a nap.

But I just felt like we needed to go.

Child 3 asks about her adoption often.  And about adoption.  She has been trying to learn Spanish. 

I knew this was just the thing for her.

Unfortunately, by the time some of the crew got home, our time was very limited.

I was so disappointed.

We ran out of the house to our 3 o'clock appointment...at that point, it was 3:30.

I wanted to cry.

Somehow, and I still don't know how, we did our first appointment and made it to the other church for the concert.  Even with a few minutes to spare.

We were greeted at the door by several of the girls.  They were as friendly and sweet as they come.  They took an immediate interest in our children, asking all about their adoptions.  The mother of the clan spoke to me for a while too. I really wish I had had several hours just to talk to her and find out her secrets of mothering such a vast crew.

We really enjoyed the concert.  The family sings gospel songs.  They shared some pictures and their stories of their early lives.  The mother shared testimony about how God brought her family together.  There was even a time for Guatemala trivia.  We knew all of the answers. :)  (And our family won two "worry/blessing" dolls.)

I looked over at one point and caught the face of child 3.  She was just beaming.

It was just what the doctor ordered.  I needed to be reminded.  I needed to hear some things.

Things like...

God put our family together.

Every child is a blessing.  Even when they are acting like turkeys. :)

Our eyes should be on Him.

The job God has put before me is to be the mother to these kids.  Even when they drive me crazy.  And He will give me the strength to do carry out my job.

At one point, Child 3 asked me if I would want all of those kids.  I just smiled and said, "Well, yes, if y'all acted like them, I would..." 

And I was joking.  Kind of.

I do wish my children got along better.  That there wasn't a huge rivalry.  That they would focus more on God than themselves.  And that we could all sing.

I almost feel defeated some days.

But that isn't where we are right now.

Maybe it is me.  Maybe I am failing.  Or maybe I don't pray enough.  Or maybe we are doing the best we can.

I don't know.

I just know that some days, on the hardest days, God sends little reminders my way.

And for that, I am grateful.

More soon,
Reba

Long Days, Short Years...

One of my favorite parenting sayings is "The days are long but the years are short."

Oh, how true this is. 

The days are long.  I am sure there are some parents out there who would disagree but for me, the days can be endless.  There is always a crisis, a drama, an issue, a challenge, a concern.  The homework and school papers and school activities and social activities keep me hopping after a full day of school. 

Sometimes, especially when we are in the midst of a not fun stage, I wonder why and how long I will be there.

The days are long.

But the years are short.

I am reminded over and over of this.

Today Child 3 came into the kitchen to ask me a question. She was wearing a t-shirt that I am pretty sure Child 2 just wore last year or the year before. I had to do a double take.

Child 4 just had his first spelling test yesterday.  The first of many.

Child 1 is now learning how to drive.

Child 2 has surpassed me in both height and shoe size.  And much to her father's dismay, she is beginning to talk about boys (giggle, giggle, giggle).

Child 3 is reading long chapter books, the Junie B Jones books pushed to the side.

Child 4 reads to me about as much as I read to him now.

Child 1 has started talking about college (and getting ready for that).

Child 2 went to the football game with us last night and hung out with friends rather than sit with us.

Child 3 and Child 4 have been sitting and playing together (cars and blocks) all morning long. 

I always hated it when people told me "Enjoy this moment; time will fly by" as I rocked my newborn son.

I mean, at that time especially the days (and nights) were long.  They seemed never ending.

And I honestly have no desire to return to those days.

But I won't lie.

I do miss certain moments.

Rocking my newborn babies.

Watching my sweet babies toddle around the house.

Snuggling on the couch with the kiddos as I read Little Critter books with them.

Holding a feverish child.

Singing Amazing Grace to them as they drifted off to sleep.

Most of those moments have passed.

We do have new moments.

Sharing a laugh over a political cartoon.

Watching our youngest swing the bat at his baseball game.

Buying make up and clothes with my giggly girl.

Hearing new and big words in their vocabulary.

Some days do still seem long.

But the years are undoubtedly short.

Time is flying by.

In just a few years, our first will leave the nest.

We will have teenage drivers.

The Little Critter books will be packed away for future grandchildren.

And one day our house might even be silent. 

I could be sad.  And am sometimes.

But it is part of life.

Instead, I am going to just stop and enjoy these moments.

They really will be gone in a blink of the eye...

Reba

Getting it right...

After a few "downer" posts (not really downer but "real" :), I thought I should write a positive one...

Every night I go to bed, feeling like a failure.

I am not the mom I want to be. I make mistakes daily.  You would think after 14 years of doing this, I would get it right. I haven't yet.  And for a perfectionist, that is a tough pill to swallow.

Yet lately I have been thinking that as much as I do wrong, I actually do a few things right.

So that is what I thought I would share today...a few things I am doing "right" in the parenting department.

• I encourage my kids' creativity.  I keep "creative" things on hand like markers, paper, stickers, paints, playdough, etc.  I rarely turn them down when they ask to do those things (unless we are about to have company).  
• We have the bedtime thing down.  We have a good routine.  They are all good sleepers.  (Note:  there are many ways to get to this point...I am just glad we found one of them :)
• We eat a variety of foods.  We eat shrimp. We eat fish.  We eat Thai. We eat Mexican.  We are still working on variety in vegetables, but overall, we eat a variety of foods which makes my job of planning meals much easier.
• I have always encouraged reading.  If my children were interested in The Titanic, we got Titanic books.  We have books every where...toy room, bedroom, living room, even the car.  I let the kids "read" during breakfast and lunch (which I often do too).  And thankfully, all four are readers who truly love a book.  If I mention a trip to the library or Barnes and Noble, their faces light up.
• We have learned to roll with the punches.  I can't say I do it 100 percent of the time, but hopefully more often than not.  Spilled milk?  Well, wipe it up.  Rainstorm ruined our plans? What can we do instead?
• They know I love their dad. I have a "I Love You Because..." sign (framed) in the bathroom next to my husband's sink.  I change out the answer 2-3 times a week (with a dry erase marker).  Not only does he read it but they do too. They know I love him, and they can see specifically what I appreciate about him.
• They are learning responsibility through chores.  We have a daily chore chart.  We rotate out emptying the dishwasher, refilling the dishwasher, taking out the recycles, and cleaning the bathroom each night (as well as setting/clearing off the table). The kids also have an extra chore each day which might be sorting clothes, vacuuming their rooms, taking out the trash, etc.  And yes, even the 6 year old does these things (we help a little with the dishwasher but he is almost able to do it himself).  If we start to see "half-hearted" attempts on chores, the offender gets to "practice" for the next three days on that chore. :)
• I try to instill responsibility. We are all working on that one.  I do take care of school paperwork immediately and establish an "accountability" routine (get your folder out as soon as you get home).  If you break something that belongs to someone else, you get to replace it.  
• We are (hopefully) teaching financial habits with allowances.  One child was spending a lot at school for lunches. We incorporated extra money into that allowance and now the child can use as much as he/she wants...but if he/she runs out of money before the month is up, that child will have to use his/her own money or pack a lunch.  Another child loves social activities.  We will pay for certain things but many activities come from his/her own allowance.  If they want a toy or a pack of gum, they can get them...with their own money. :)
• I (hopefully) model service to them with things such as buying for angels off the angel tree at Christmas, praying for friends at dinner or at night, and making meals for others.  
• I (hopefully) model faith to them.  When faced with tough situations, we pray.  I cannot quote a lot of Scripture, but we talk about God's faithfulness even in the tough times.  I speak openly about my walk with God and often pray for them/with them for their own walks...
• I model wonder of the world. I get excited about baby birds in our doorway.  I run outside to take pictures of sunsets.  I stop to check out a beautiful butterfly. I see that now in them.  Our youngest child will stop and say, "Look at that pretty sunset, Mom..."
• The gift of exploration.  We hike a lot. Not all of the kids enjoy it but at some point, they all have fun.  We explore new places and talk about the neat things God made around us.  I hope that as my kids go through life, they will continue that exploration whether it is through hiking, travel, interests, etc.
• I encourage their interests.  I have never "forced" my kids to play anything.  But if they show an interest (in gymnastics, in baseball, in cross country, etc), we encourage them to pursue those things. No pressure.  Just try them out and see if that is something they want to continue...
• I hopefully balance the needs of the house and the wants of the children.  I have read those posters about how messy houses mean happy kids. I don't know that I totally agree with that.  I know that I feel unsettled in mess. So I try to keep things organized. We talk about keeping up with our belongings and putting things away.  But at the same time, we sometimes will stop and go for a swim or just play a game.  Hopefully they are learning balance.
• Honesty.  I try to be honest with them.  One recently asked me if I thought about running away sometimes. I was honest.  "Yes.  But I don't.  But, yes, I do think about it some days..."  When they ask me about death or love or news/current events, I try to be honest (age appropriate). 
• I look for the meaning behind their behaviors.  It is easy to immediately jump on misbehavior, but sometimes I realize what I really have is a tired child, so we just move bedtime up.  Or a child is really hungry, so we get a snack. I am not perfect at it but I do try.
• I teach consequences (especially natural).  "Yes, you can wear those shorts, but you may not say ONE word about being cold..."  "Oh, you lost that dollar I gave you? Too bad. I hope next time you will put it away..."  "If you leave that golf club outside, it will rust.  I will not buy you a new one." 
• I am (fairly) flexible.  I expect the kiddos to keep their room fairly neat but it is their room.  That was evident today when the girls rearranged their room yet again...I let them try things out. If they don't like it, they change it.
• I encourage independence.  I don't make lunch at all for anyone except myself and the youngest.  If they want macaroni, they can make it.  I do regular laundry but if you just HAVE to have something (and didn't get it in the baskets on time), you can do your own :)
• I love them.  And I try to show them in a thousand different ways.  I may not be the most affectionate. Or the "lovey dovey" mom others may be. But I hope at the end of the night, they all know how much I love them and how thankful I am they are my children...

How about you? What are you getting right?

Reba

Out of the Darkness...

I know a lot of my posts are "light" posts.

I like those light posts.  They are easy to write.  Fun to read.  Happy, happy, happy.

But the truth is, life isn't always "light".

To have light, you have to have darkness.

When I think of darkness, I think of last summer...

Last summer was a tough one. If you know me at all, I LOVE summer.  I do. It isn't that I don't love my job. I do.  But I love that laid back schedule, the time to be at home, the time to rejuvenate my spirit, the time to be with my children.

Except last summer was not like that at all. 

I won't go into all of the details, though I will be sharing a little bit over the next few weeks, but we had a tough time.  I will just say that one of our children was going through a very difficult time.  And if you are a mother at all, you know difficult time for a kiddo means difficult time for you too.

And it was.

I felt alone.  I felt deserted.  I felt abandoned by not only friends but God.  I felt sad. I felt hopeless.  And I felt like I was in darkness.  All day long.

Please know I had to force myself to type those words.

Because there is shame in them.

I am a mom and a teacher who looks like I should have it all together.  And a lot of people think I do.

But last summer was proof that I have nothing together.

Life is messy.

I want to clarify that my darkness was not clinical depression (though I may have been a step or two away from it).  It was more a situational depression.  I was not on the brink of suicide, though I may or may not have considered running away a time or two.  Okay, if I am honest, thoughts of running away (at least temporarily) are always right there on the outskirts of my brain...

This was a darkness from feeling overwhelmed with life.  A paralysis of not knowing what to do or where to turn.  A constant self-doubting of my own worth and capabilities.  And an isolation from the rest of the world.  

Part of the isolation was self-inflicted.

Because of what we were dealing with here, we couldn't get out of the house a lot.  Things were unpredictable.  We needed a very consistent routine.  For several reasons, it just wasn't possible. 

While I am thankful for things like Facebook, a very needed social outlet for a busy mom, it doesn't replace human interaction.

When you are in a dark place, it is easy to feel alone. Completely alone.

And for me as a teacher, without that constant interaction with co-workers and students, summer can feel a little isolated anyway.  Even in the best of circumstances.

But these weren't the best of circumstances.  These were harder times.

So I felt very alone.

The other part of the isolation was probably not intentional but very prevalent. 

Friends I have always counted on didn't really seek me out either.  Though I was careful what I said on FB or through e-mails, enough was said to send out warning signs that life was a little difficult for me.  And while close family and an occasional friend did reach out (and I am forever grateful for those people), a lot didn't. I won't lie. It let me down. 

One of my lowest moments was logging into FB and seeing pictures of a group of friends and their kids having a great time at an event. An event I wasn't invited to.  Even worse, nobody seemed to notice or care I wasn't there. (I realize that it was not likely intentional but when you are in darkness, it is hard to not feel wounded by life's slights)

At that one moment, the darkness was almost suffocating.

I say all of this not for pity.

In fact, I would rather not say it at all.

It doesn't bring back happy memories.  It isn't who I want to portray myself to be to the world.

But for whatever reason, I feel pressed to share. This post has been churning in my brain all morning to the point I felt like I had to type it out whether I wanted to or not.

I share it for a few reasons.

One reason: If you are in darkness, know that you are NOT alone.  It can come upon anybody at any point in their lives.  Doesn't matter if you are rich or poor, Christian or not, an optimist or a pessimist.  I cringe when I hear people say, "How do you do it all?"  I don't.  And at times in my life, I am paralyzed by that.  I believe in God and have Jesus living in my heart. He is always with me through His Spirit.  But sadly, when everything feels so dark, it is hard to remember.  He is there.  And He has people all around you who are there too, many who have been where you are.

Another reason:  Know that the darkness WILL lift.  There will be light again.  And when you are in the light again, you will treasure those moments that much more.  The difference between last summer and this summer (with the exception of possibly today which hasn't been that much fun :) is the difference between night and day...

And my last reason:  Even if you aren't sitting in darkness feeling very alone, there is a GOOD chance someone you know and love is.  You may not realize it but start watching.  Does someone you love smile but painfully so?  Are you reading e-mails or FB messages that seem joking but underneath there is a cry for help?  Or has someone withdrawn from your circle of friends whether intentionally or not?  Reach out to them.  Ask, "Is everything okay?" And be prepared to listen if it isn't.  Even if you get a "Yeah...", ask again.  Sincerely.  Pray for that person.  Pray for opportunities to be a good friend to them.  Even just a short text or e-mail saying, "Hey, it looks like things are tough right now, I am thinking about you" can go a long way.

I am a little nervous to actually post this.  I realize some may look at me differently.  Or conjure up theories and hypotheses of what was going on in our lives.  Or smugly read this and think, "Well, I am so glad this is not my problem..."

But hopefully, if even one person reads it and sees themselves and feels even a little less alone, it will be worth it.

More later,
Reba

He Said What???

Oh this 4th child of mine.

He makes me tired.  He makes me think about every parenting decision I make.  He makes me question myself and my abilities to be a mom.  He makes me pray. A lot.

And he makes me laugh.

A lot.

If he isn't making me cry. :)

Lately he has been on a roll.

If you are on Facebook, these will NOT be new to you.

So here are a few stories that make me cry out, "He said what?"...

Sunday, as we were listening to the sermon, my hubby received a text from a friend of his who just happened to be supervising Child 4's class at the moment. 

It basically said that our son had said we were kissing at the beach and it was SOOOOO embarrassing.

(Note:  The funny thing is we really don't kiss all that often but the kids always tell us to "kiss" for our together pictures)

A few minutes later, we received another text that said child also shared that we had kissed in his bedroom at the beach house and he told us to cut it out.

When I picked him up, I said, "Honey, you do NOT have to share everything!"

His reply?

"You told me to tell them about our trip to the beach..."

Groan.

Fast forward a few hours.

Child 4 was "tattling" about something Hubby did (yes, his dad).

He started off with, "Someone you just married did..."

I said, "Just married? We have been married for almost 17 years!"

His response?

"You got married when you were just a baby?"

Okay, I kind of like that one.

The one from tonight, not so much.

At dinner, I was eating when the same child started "jiggling" my arms.  (It is an over 40 thing...I really am not THAT heavy or out of shape)

He said, "I wish I could do that with my arms..."

After a while, I asked him to stop.

He started giggling and asked me, "Why? It is fun!"

Groan again...

Reba

What a difference...

a year makes.

Last summer was NOT my favorite summer.

My husband had just been "unhired".

We were living in limbo.

We were dealing with some kid struggles.

Major struggles.

As in dreading to wake up every day struggles.

I felt like a prisoner in my own house.

Fast forward to this year...

Hubby owns his own company.

Okay, in some ways, it is like limbo.

We don't have that set paycheck.

But he is doing what he loves to do.

And our bills are paid.

It isn't perfect. 

Lately we have had a lot of "expenses".  It is easy to panic a bit. Or a lot.

But still, God is faithful.

(Just for the record, He was faithful last summer too...just feeling it more this year I suppose)

And the kid struggles?

Well, with four kids, there will always be struggles.

But so far our summer is off to a great start.

The kids are getting along.  Even playing together.

Meltdowns (both child and mom) have been pretty nonexistent.

And I have even run a few errands, leaving the oldest in charge.  When I come home, NO complaints.

I am actually looking forward to this summer.

So many other things have changed in the past year...

Our eating habits.

My weight.

Our house (though it is still a work in progress).

Our children.  (I am going to do a special post about them this week)

Our health (both good and bad :).

Who knew what a difference one year could make?

Reba

Expect Nothing...

and you will never be disappointed but you might be pleasantly surprised.

My mom used to say that to me.  A lot.

For good reason.

I tend to plan and think and hold ideas about how things will go.

And they rarely do.

At least how I think they will.

My first years of teaching.

My engagement.

My honeymoon.  (The wedding was actually what I pictured for the most part :)

Motherhood.

Mother's Day.

I really don't try to dream up stuff.

It just happens.

My mind is always going.

And I am a romantic at heart.

Gifts is one of my love languages.

So when I knew Mother's Day was this weekend, I had in my mind how it was going to go.

A hiking trip away, planned by anyone but me :). (We have hiked a lot of the trails here; there are others around the state I am itching to try) With or without kids.

Maybe a new camera.

Instead, yesterday late morning, hubby asks, "Wanna go for a hike today or tomorrow?'

My heart sank.

Don't get me wrong, I like hiking.  It just wasn't a weekend away.  And it wasn't planned.

To top it all off, one child wasn't sure she really wanted to go and seemed to be going just because she felt like she had to. Another one rolled out of bed right before we left and insisted there was no reason to go.  And the ones who did end up in the car with us argued. A lot.

Happy Mother's Day to me.

I actually said at one point, "Let's give up and go home..."

But we didn't.

We drove out to the middle of nowhere.

And we hiked.

And it was nothing like I had pictured for "my weekend".

Nothing at all.

But I was pleasantly surprised.

We had fun.  (A post/tons of pics to come)  One child, after claiming to not be a "girly girl", fell into the mud...right at the beginning of the hike.  Another one, tripping over a tree branch or his own feet, hopped up and said, "I am okay!" and took off running.  Marley pup had a ball.  She is fearless on a hike.  Rocks, water, logs...they don't stop her. Oh, and she can outhike us (even with legs mere inches long) any day.  The kids got along MOST of the time.  In fact, it was one of our better hikes.  We even decided to do one more hike and there were no complaints. I think we got about 4 miles in all together.

It was a beautiful day.  We were surrounded by beautiful scenery. And we saw no snakes.

When we got home, we grabbed some pizza from one of my favorite places.  And devoured it.

This morning, Child 2 brought me breakfast in bed.

Child 3 gave me a beautiful booklet all about me.

I think Child 4 had a gift for me from school; I just haven't seen it yet.  He will think about it in a few days.

We got to have dinner with MY mom and dad which is always a treat.

And then Child 1 bought me a shaved ice.

Oh, and I got a gift certificate for a pedicure. 

Nothing like I had "planned" or expected.

But I was pleasantly surprised.

Maybe those moms know a thing or two after all...

Reba

Dresed to the Nines

We had a milestone in our house this past week.

Actually, a couple.

Our oldest son attended his first semi-formal this past weekend.

Which involved dressing up a bit.

And shaving.

Breathe in, breath out.

Wasn't he just taking his first steps like yesterday???

When did he get old enough for something like this?

I will not divulge the whole story in order to maintain his privacy (nor post pictures from the actual dance).  It is his story to tell.

But I wanted to remember the night, to record this memory.

I need to remember.

I am afraid the next time I blink, he will be graduating from college.

Slow down, Time, slow down.

Reba

TBH...

If you are not up on the texting/FB lingo of the world, TBH means "To Be Honest".

On occasion, on Facebook, I mention that has been a rough day or that I really need a little time to myself (one of my kids is a little shadow...almost always within just a few feet of me...all day long!).  And invariably that status update with get several likes.  It will also get some comments.

"Enjoy these days...you will miss them!"

"Some day you will miss hearing those sounds in your house..."

"One day you will wish you could go back to these days..."

I know they are well meaning.  And I know there are nuggets of truth in them.

But let's be completely honest here.

Will I really miss all of it?

I mean, I loved having newborns.  I loved holding those little babies while they slept.  I loved that sweet smell after their bath, all snuggly in their pj's.  I loved seeing those first smiles and gazing into those sweet eyes.

And some days, I miss that.

(That is when I volunteer in the church nursery)

But I don't miss it all.

I don't miss having the sweet baby wet all over my clothes right before I leave for work.

Or the crying in the middle of the night.

Or walking around with circles under my eyes because I was sleeping in 2 hour shifts.

There were many parts of toddlerhood that were fun.  Really.  I mean, kids grow by leaps and bounds at that age. Every day is full of new skills, new vocabulary, new everything.  What makes your heart smile more than a chubby toddler hugging your leg when you come home from the store? Or the sweet giggles that erupt when you play peek-a-boo or Pat-a-cake?  Or singing "Jesus Loves Me" over and over together?

But there are things I do not miss so much.

I don't miss the tantrums.  I don't miss the whining. I don't miss the live and die by a schedule or the crying over having a blue cup instead of a yellow cup. I don't.

That wasn't fun to me.

So while I know those commentors are well-meaning, I don't know how honest it is.

Will I miss some parts of my kids' childhood?  Yes.

I will miss hearing my daughter sing at the top of her lungs in the shower.

I will miss the way every child comes into my room to ask me how Marley slept last night.

I will miss the handwritten notes and cards and pictures I am given regularly.

I will miss our dinnertime sharing..."What are you celebrating today?"

I will miss watching my girls dress each other up in new outfits and take pictures of their "models".

I will miss sitting in the floor listening to my youngest tell me these elaborate stories about his dreams the night before.

I will miss our movie nights, all gathered in front of the t.v. with shakes and popcorn.

I will miss Taco Nights and walks around the park and reading books together.

But will I miss the tattling?  The whining? The arguing among siblings? Tripping over shoes?  Closing the pantry doors yet again?

Um, I don't think so.

I asked my mom about this not long ago.

And she confirmed what I thought.

Yes, there are things you miss. But there are also things you don't miss. And while you may miss them, you enter new phases of life and you just enjoy where you are.

That is my goal.

I hope as I grow as a mom, I will remember.

I will remember that the days are long, the years are short.

And in 20 years, if I am even still on Facebook or whatever other social forum or even in real life, if a weary mom says they need a break or they are tired, I hope that I will pat their arms. I hope I will smile.  And I hope I will say, "This too will pass."  I hope I will tell them that in the blink of an eye, this will be over. And I hope I will say that there are parts of it they will miss one day, but there are also parts of it they won't.  (Kind of like high school...parts I liked, parts I don't miss one iota)  Then I will tell them it is okay to be tired or weary and to find time for themselves. 

And maybe, just maybe, if I am really missing those childhood things, I will offer to babysit if they need me to.

Reba

My Place in This World

I have mentioned that this has been a big summer of reflection and refinement. Neither are particularly fun but it is apparently where I am in life.

I have been thinking a lot about my place in this world.

I am sure there is some psychological name for this. And I probably even learned it once upon a time. I am reflecting about where I have been, where I am going, but especially where I am right now.

I am not necessarily where I thought I would be.

For one, i never expected to have four kids.  Two, yes. But four, no.  And honestly, adoption was not really on my radar even ten years ago. 

I will be honest. I sometimes look at our oldest two and take just a minute to think about what life would be like. I am not saying I regret our decisions or our life now.  I just can't help but think sometimes. Life would be a little easier. A little less demanding in some ways.  Obviously things like meals out and trips would be less expensive.  And the house would be much quieter.

Again, I am not regretting. Just being honest.

But that is not where God led us.  That is not my place in this world at this time.

Not long ago, I saw some pictures on Facebook that hurt my heart a little bit.  Just a reminder of something we weren't invited to.  There is a lot of that on Facebook, by the way.  It is hard not to feel like I am back in elementary school watching someone pass out invitations and walking right by my desk.  I guess those insecurities never truly go away.

Anyway, the truth is, we probably couldn't have gone to this event. And I know that. 

I am just in a different place than a lot of people my age.

I have younger kids.  And those kids require some special care.

I can't just drop everything and run to the pool with all four kids in tow. While three are strong swimmers, the last one isn't yet.  And that child is constantly on the move.  While others can just sit and chat by the water, I end up running all around the pool making sure all four heads are accounted for. 

We go to the movies on a rare occasion but it is a bit pricey with all of us. And with such a wide range of ages, we are limited as to what we can see.

Many activities are way too overstimulating for kids with sensory issues. And for my introvert kids, they can be exhausting.

I feel bad that my older children get invited to way more fun activities (which they love) than I can reciprocate.

But it is just not where I am in life right now.

And after a lot of prayer, a lot of thought, and even some tears, I am okay with that.

My life is what God wants it to be.

It can be hard some days.

And many may not understand.

But God does.

And being where He wants me to be is the only place in the world I want to be...

More soon,
Reba

On the Ledge

I am going to be honest here.

It has been a tough summer.

Really, the summer has not gone the way I wanted.

Most of it is out of my control.

I started off the summer excited. It was going to be our longest summer ever!  Hooray!  More time to just be. To just enjoy.  Except that things haven't gone that way. And I find myself whining, "This is the longest summer ever..."

Who knew this would be the hottest summer ever? That our grass would crunch under our feet?

The heat, more than once, has squashed some of my summer plans.  I mean, it is too hot to even run over to a swimming hole. Not to mention, there is probably no water IN the swimming hole.

And then there is the job stuff. Don't get me wrong. I support my husband 100% (and more) in his job quest.  And it wasn't like we asked for the changes anyway.  But it has still been a bit stressful.  And it is a big test of faith. Going from a steady paycheck to basically "commission" (not to mention the costs involved with start up)...well, it is a bit unsettling. And new.

And then there is parenthood.  It is not easy.  And this summer, it has been less than easy. I don't want to get into specifics.  I will just say one or more child is experiencing growing pains.  Not physical ones. Emotional ones.  And with that, I am experiencing growing pains too. I am learning new ways to parent.  Some days I feel too old. After all, I should know at this point how to parent. But I don't.  I feel like a piece of clay, stretched and pulled.  And part of me wants to cry. I do some days.  But in the end, I have to believe God is bringing me through the fire to be a vessel for Him. For my kids.  And for others.  And who knows...my kids may end up being useful vessels for Him too!

While we did have a trip to the beach (mostly fun but with some kid stress) and a week at my sister's, there are many other things I have not gotten to do that I had hoped.

And now it is winding down.

I find myself on a ledge.

On a ledge looking down below.

Trying not to think about what could have, should have been.

Instead trying to be thankful for what it has been. And for what God has intended it to be even though it wasn't my plans.

Yep.

That is me.

On the ledge.

Trusting that God will not let me fall.

Reba

Missing My Girly Girl

I have never been a "helicopter" mom.

You know, the mom who hovers around.

I mean, I work outside the home so I have left my kids from a very young age.

And our firstborn was maybe 2 weeks old when we let him spend the night with his grandparents...probably so I could get a little sleep. :)

I guess I have always just been matter of fact about it all.

The kids cannot always be with me.

I kind of worry when I hear moms say, "My child hasn't ever spent a night away from me..." And that child is 7 years old.

I do think that independence is a good thing.  For mom and child.

We have been fortunate thus far that none of ours have been overly homesick.  No calls in the middle of the night with a sobbing child on the other end of the line asking me to pick them up.  Maybe we are lucky. Or maybe they are just used to it (not that they are away from us terribly often).


In my mind though, we say good-bye, hug our kiddos, and let them know we will see them again, whether it is in an hour or in a week like when we went to Guatemala to pick up our youngest.


And we get through.


At the same time, I have never wanted to rush the distance thing.  I know young kids can go to overnight camps.  But we have waited.  Not necessarily consciously but we have waited until they were ready.  And we were ready.


A couple years ago, our oldest went to his first overnight (four days I believe) camp.


I didn't feel overly sentimental when I dropped him off.


I mean, I am tough like that.


I gave him a hug, waved good-bye, then walked away.


I didn't worry at all about him.


I knew he would have a good time.  And he did.


However, about the third day into it I realized something.


I really missed that kid.


In his absence, I began to understand what an integral part of our family he was.  He was the peacemaker, the voice of reason in a crazy house. 


I was surprised to find my heart actually ached for him.


I just never expected that.


So, fast forward to this past Monday.


My second born was going to church camp.


She has been wanting to go away to camp for some time.


Unfortunately, the ones she has wanted to go to are WAY out of our price range.


This opportunity came up and seemed perfect.  It was affordable and not too far away.  And it was time.  She was ready.


So we dropped her off.  I waved good-bye.  Then I walked out the door.


I really didn't feel that sad.

I knew that the dynamics of the house would change.  Little sister would have the room to herself. There would be less arguing.  It might be a good "vacation" for everyone.



I also knew she was in good hands. I knew that she was excited.  And I knew it was only for four nights.

Except four nights was longer than I expected.


It was Wednesday that I realized how much I missed that girl.


I started checking Facebook ten times more than usual, just hoping for a glimpse of that face.  (I am thankful the leader has been posting pics all along)  And we had the whole readoption fiasco.  And to make matters worse, there was a family night at the camp that same night. I had read about it but nobody had made a big deal about it. I didn't think much about it.  I hadn't heard about anyone else going.  Except they did.  I think all of the other parents went.  Except for us. :( 


And I realized something.


Though in some ways, Child 2 and I are very different, she is the one child who really "gets" me. She can read my emotions.  She can sense when I am not having a good day.  I am guessing if she had been here after the whole courthouse thing, she would have been right there, patting my back and trying to make me laugh.  She is my encourager, my sunshine on a rough day.  I love all of my children; I am not playing favorites.  These are just the roles she fills in our family.


So my heart ached. 


And still does.


I miss her so much more than I ever thought I would.


On a positive note, she had the opportunity to call me (unexpectedly) on Wednesday night. 


And I loved every minute.


It made me flash forward to the future.  One day she will be gone, out of the house, living her own life.  They all will.  And that will be my joy.  A moment on the phone hearing that familiar voice.


Ugh.


So back to the phone conversation.  This is her, through and through.


"Yeah, I think everyone else's family came tonight.  I was the only one who didn't have someone..."


Feel that knife twisting?


"Honey, I am so sorry. I had no idea it was such a big deal or we would have been there.  We had a hard day with court (or rather the children at court).  I am so sorry."


"It's okay, Mom. It wasn't a big deal..."


That is her.


She rolls with the punches.


Way better than I do.


In just a few hours, she will be back.


And the arguing among siblings will resume.


But I will be a little different.


I have seen the future.


I know what is ahead.


And in spite of it all (remind me of this), I am going to treasure every moment with her (or at least most of them). 

Because in the blink of an eye, she will be gone, living her life.

And my heart will ache again.



Reba

No Pictures Please

Ironically, this morning, I received a parenting newsletter about not finding shame in our children's behavior.

As I read it, I found myself nodding and agreeing.

You see, parenting has been the most humbling role of my life.

I have lived my life basically trying to please others, to do the right thing, to "live right".

And most of all, I want to show that I am successful.  I know what I am doing.  I have it all together.

Sometimes I have even fooled people.

"How do you do it all?"  "How do you stay on top of things?"

Have I ever mentioned that the one minute (as in small, not a time increment) talent I have is acting?

You know, like acting in school plays in elementary school and then later in church drama groups.

More currently, I use that talent when I am in the shower and don't want to be disturbed with another tattle (pretending like I can't hear anything) or when I am not really wanting to get up yet so I act like I am still sleeping while secretly listening to the goings on in the house.

But enough about that...


Before I had kids, I had in my mind a picture of what kids who have good parents look like.

I mean, I was a teacher.

I had experience.

With kids.


As a teacher.

Not a parent.

Then I became a parent.

And suddenly I didn't know nearly as much about parenting as I thought I did.

The funny thing is that in reality, our older two are fairly "easy".  At least in public.  Most of the time.

So even though I had some humbling moments with them, I really thought we were doing it right as parents.  All the ideals we hold tight to, they must be working.

Except God had other plans for us...plans in the way of two more children.

And suddenly I was on my knees begging for help.

Please don't get me wrong.

I love all of my kids.

And they are all neat kids.

None of them are perfect, and none of them are "better" than the others.

Some are just maybe a little easier. :)

And some are better out in public than at home.

I won't embarrass any of the guilty parties with stories, but trust me, there are plenty.

I am learning more and more that I need to continue to hold onto the ideals I truly believe.  And I need to know that my children ARE responsible for their own decisions.  I also am realizing more and more that one size doesn't fit all.  My children have very different personalities and what works with one will not work with another.

I still sink into bed some days, feeling like a complete failure.

But when I do, I remember a couple of things.

We (humans) have the "perfect Father" and yet we fail all of the time.

And some of our kids are on their best behavior when outside the house.  Since I am parenting all of them, I can't be doing all of it wrong.

Why all of this?

Today was Readoption Day.

It sounds funny to say that.

Our kids ARE our kids and have been since we brought them home.

And they were citizens the first time their little feet touched the ground which in our case was the Houston International Airport which probably has a more official name than that.  But that is beside the point.

Some people readopt right away.

We didn't.

Like I said, they were already citizens (which isn't always true in international adoption cases).  And it costs money.  After the money we had already spent with the adoptions and the travel expenses and all of the other stuff, it wasn't money we were ready to spend.

But there are advantages to readopting which is why we chose to do it.

A big one is that our kids will have a birth certificate from our state which is MUCH easier to get than the one from their birthcountry.

No, it won't say they were born here, just that they were adopted here.  Or readopted.

The other reason we chose to do it was that we changed our son's name (unofficially) when we brought him home.  However, every time we call the doctor's office to make an appointment, we have to use his given name which is the name he came to us with (they did change his last name to ours when we adopted).  Since he is about to start school, we felt like he needed the official name change.  Otherwise he would constantly get called by his given name and likely wouldn't respond since we never called him that. :)

Anyway, it only took five years but we finally met with a lawyer a couple of weeks ago.

And just like that we had a "court" date.

A formality.

We just needed a judge to sign and say we were readopting (and changing our little guy's name).

Sounds so simple.

We got all dressed up.  I took my camera. I have seen pictures of other friends' readoptions.

And we drove to the courthouse.

I am not sure what went wrong.

My children.

Maybe they were uncomfortable. They were in a very unfamiliar setting. Or maybe they knew there was little we could do with them.  I didn't see myself saying, "Um, Judge, could you excuse me while I remove this wayward child from your chambers to discuss his/her behavior?"  Maybe the summer solstice had an effect on them.  Or maybe God just thought I needed another taste of humility (really, God, I have had enough...I get it!).

Something happened.  My children put on a show.  Not an entertaining one, especially for their father and me.

In fact, I wanted to turn the show off.

I am thankful the judge is a mom and seemed to understand.  That or she felt really sorry for us.

The paperwork was signed though hubby and I both hesitated when they asked the question, another formality, "Do you wish to adopt these children?" 


As I looked at one child standing on his head in the chair across from the judge and the other hardly answering any simple questions, I had to consider it carefully.

Apparently our judge wasn't into pictures. Or she just wanted us to leave.  I don't blame her.  I wanted to leave and go far far away.

She didn't ask for pictures.

And honestly, I don't need pictures to remember the day.

I am just trying to figure out what I can do to FORGET the day.

Sigh.

Tomorrow is another day.

I just don't want any more of that humble pie for dessert...

Reba

The Facts of Life

You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both, and there you have...

The facts of life.

The facts of life.

I realize that many of you are way too young to remember that song. But I do.  Or at least parts of it.

But I do.

And that is the song that comes to mind when I recall the events of the last two days.

(By the way, I started this post last night and fell asleep before I was done :)

Yesterday was the bad.  Almost all bad.

Two kids who were not making wise choices, either at home or at school (or both).  Another child licking wounds after a difficult time with a friend.  Mark was gone.  I was busy trying to straighten up the house.  And yet everywhere I turned, I tripped over kids' belongings.

I may or may not have snapped.

I may or may not have ALMOST said "Shut up."  (I DIDN'T say it, but I sure thought it...hard)

I may or may not have ranted and raved a bit.

I may or may not have threatened to run away.

And I may or may not have meant it.  Okay.  I may have.


It was not a fun evening.  It wasn't a stellar evening for my kids.  And it wasn't a stellar evening for this mom.


Fast forward about 24 hours.


Two kids had a good day, both at school or home (relatively speaking :).  Another child learned and demonstrated how to walk away when he/she wasn't being treated nicely.


We played.


We had pictures taken by a friend (well, mainly Marley did :).


We enjoyed some time outside.


We laughed.


We talked.


And Daddy came home (later).


I want more of those days, but I suppose I wouldn't appreciate having them as much if I did.


I guess I do have to take the good with the bad.


It's the facts of life.


Reba

Just Another Manic Monday...

What is it they say about "A woman's work is never done?"

Sorry to any guy readers.

I am sure that is true for guys too.

I can only speak from the woman's point of view.

I have a zillion (maybe even more) posts floating through my mind.

And I want so much to put them down.

But time is so limited.

Why?

Because a woman's work is never done.

Obviously, since I am a teacher, I am gone all day.

I will save all of those activities for a teacher post another day.

But let me just share a somewhat typical Monday afternoon (which would look similar to a Tuesday afternoon, a Wednesday afternoon, etc.).

3:00 Child 3 appears in my classroom. School is out. Child 2 is at an after school activity. I spend about 45 minutes working on lesson plans, materials, etc. Well, when I am not answering questions from Child 3. We will just say she is curious.

3:45 We run out the door, taking just a minute to pause and watch a little bird splashing in a puddle of water from yesterday's monsoon.

4:00 We arrive at Child 4's school. My favorite part of that is that he is outside playing. He watches for me and when he sees me, he waves wildly at my car and smiles from ear to ear.

4:15 We arrive home for just a minute, picking up a snack (grapes) for Child 4. I also do a quick homework activity with Child 3. Then we hop back in the car to go pick Child 2 up from her after school activity.

4:35 Back home. I will admit, I want so much to just sit and kick up my feet for a bit. But duty calls. The girls get their folders out, so I spend some time going through their schoolwork, filling out school paperwork, etc.

I also finish filling the dishwasher, get it going, and wash a few big items. Then I start the dishwasher.

And I got a load of laundry going, gathered up the recycles, and played with the pup a bit.

5:30ish: Started washing potatoes in preparation for dinner. Of course, I also handled discipline issues, settled arguments, etc, while cooking.

6:45 Dinnertime (I a little late for the evening). It amazes me that the meal it took me almost an hour to make is gone within minutes.

7:30 Two kids start the bedtime process (coking, setting the table, etc.). Meanwhile, hubby and I work to clear off the countertop in the kitchen. Again.

8:00 Two kids, homework done. Showers done. Teeth brushed. Ready for bed.

I go pray with Child 3, then go to the kitchen to work on the dish situation. Just as I start, the puppy appears with a toy to play. I reluctantly head to the living room to play a little tug of war and fetch with her. In between games, I try to catch up with my own games (Words with Friends, Scramble, Draw Something) while I have a minute.

8:30 Child 2 is now almost ready for bed. We have a quiet time (the two older kids and us), each reading the Bible. We share at the end what we read about then pray together.

9:00 A little more clean up in the kitchen

9:30 Hop on the elliptical for 30 minutes.

10:00 Soooo want to go to bed.

But again, duty calls. I start a lunch for Child 3 for tomorrow, check over homework for Child 1, and get our sheets folded. Every time I start to sit down, I remember something else that just has to be done...

11:00 Paperwork for my own class (checking over work).

11:30, Another load of laundry, cleaning out some "piles", etc.

I am sure if you are a parent, you know what I mean.

It is never done.

Never. :)

Reba

QT with the Kiddies

One of the most difficult parts of parenthood to me is finding that quality time with the kids.

Not the kids as a group.

We do that often.

We eat breakfast together. We eat dinner together. We hike together. We go to the beach together.

We have a LOT of together time.

Sometimes too much. :)

But it is finding that time with each child individually that is a challenge.

For one thing, our house is not that big.

It is rare to only have one child in the room.

And while it sounds nice to set apart a set amount of time each day for each child, it is not that easy. We have homework, after school activities, laundry, chores, cooking dinner.

And I have at least one very demanding child.

So do I have large amounts of individual time with each child?

No.

Not typically.

At least not daily.

We have tried before to set up a schedule for at least monthly (a set time).

But that didn't always work either.

I have learned that we just have to seize moments when we get them.

Sometimes it will be something big like a Veggietales Live program in another town that you are just sure your son will love.

Other times it is taking a child to the grocery store to do the weekly shopping together.

Or praying with a child before he/she goes to sleep.

Or taking one out for a round of golf. (That would be Daddy, not me :)

Or playing a board game with one.

Or cooking a meal with a different child each week.

Or reading a book with another before bed.

And even that homework time...that is a lot of "one on one" time.

I can't ever measure that time. It probably isn't even enough.

But I have learned to seize those moments, to make the most of them. To truly be with the child, to hear what he/she is saying. To give them that moment to feel special.

It isn't perfect.

But hopefully one day they will remember these times and treasure them.

I sure do.

Reba

Lessons Learned

Let me start off by saying I have several single mom kids, some by choice, some by not. And I have always had admiration for them in their roles...mommyhood is not an easy job even with "help". But this week I have learned even more and gotten a glimpse into that life...

On Saturday, I traveled for nine hours in the minivan with three kids (10 and under) through four states. I also had my first spending the night in a hotel experience as Single Mom (for this trip I mean...I didn't leave Mark or anything :). Throughout that time, I learned a few lessons. Here they are in no particular order...

1. Always, and I mean ALWAYS, check to make sure you have all of the components needed for watching a movie on a trip, especially when it is a nine hour trip (that you thought would just take 7). Otherwise, you might pull over at a gas station in Missouri after holding the kids off for an hour and a half only to discover that when the PS2 was hooked up to the t.v. for watching movies (since the darn DVD player doesn't actually work and is way too costly to replace), the controller stayed at home which is the ONLY way you can actually "play" a movie. Oh, and Target, as much as I love that store, does NOT carry PS2 controllers. Only PS3 which are NOT compatible. (I have since found one at Gamestop and hope it will work when we return home)
2. I am a nervous driver. I have always been. I passed my driving test but the officer who gave it to me told my dad I was "too cautious". Not that I am a perfect driver. Driving with kids has not helped me in anyway. Constant distractions. But I try to be cautious. And driving through places like Kansas City, Lincoln, and Omaha had my knuckles turning white and my hair turning gray. Which goes along with another lesson...
3. I miss my pilot. I am the co-pilot. I keep the calm in the car, pick up dropped items, google directions, etc. Mark drives. And he is not a nervous driver. When I am driving and have no co-pilot, things are just awry. Plus when J-man drops something and screeches his displeasure which he enjoys doing just for fun, I get to endure the screeches until the next stop. I also miss having a Daddy to take a little boy to the restroom.
   
4. Public bathrooms, whether at restaurants, the zoo, or the hotel, were NOT built for little people. In fact, they make them higher and higher I think. Which means that the only way for little people to wash their hands is to stop what I am doing to hold them up. And just because they are "little people" does not mean they are light!
5. You find help where you can. Like when the hotel pool (outside) is beyond freezing and the weather is not extremely hot but your little boy is not old enough to be in the hot tub which is more your temp, you can sweetly ask an uncle or a cousin's husband to just let the little boy jump into them a time or two...because there is NO way my big toe was getting wet in that ice water.
6. It is really hard to carry food/drinks for four with only two hands. Thankfully the girls helped out some but it was still a task.
7. If one person has to go (whether to the restroom or down to the car at the hotel to get that one item your child was positive he/she brought in, then we all have to go. I am pretty sure I got my exercise in this past weekend.
8. Along the same lines, you have to be strategic. My main goal in a hotel anytime but especially on my own with kids is to NOT disturb other guests or have security called on us. I totally get this concept. My kids have not. So when I need to take a shower or use the restroom, I have to be strategic. Even just two minutes of my absence can result in total chaos when the kids get into a wrestling match or decide to jump on the beds with glee. So, for bathroom breaks or for changing clothes, I had to find seats for each child to sit on, as far away as possible from one another. And the shower didn't happen until late after they were all asleep. Even then I tried to be as quick as possible.
9. You feel like odd man out being single in a world of marrieds. Let me preface this by saying that it was no way intentional; everyone included me and was very helpful and encouraging. But when you are constantly trying to keep up with a busy boy or helping a sick daughter or supervising your little swimmers on your own, then you can't help but miss out on some conversations. There is nobody to turn to and say, "Hey, can you play with him/her here while I go chat for a bit..."
10. I am capable of doing things on my own. Unloading a car, filling my gas tank up, finding new places on a map, handling discipline on my own. I can do it. I am stronger than I look. And if that is the life God gives me at some point, I would do it with His strength. But I will also say that I prefer not to. Mark and I are a team, and when it is just one of us, something key is missing (both ways). He is the one who can take over when I have answered the millionth question for the day or who can crack a joke when I am emotionally drained. We are surviving but missing Daddy (and the big kid) like crazy!

More soon,
Reba