::Link Love::

{The Secret Sterlization of Women in Uzbekistan} http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-17612550

          Absolutely heart-wrenching. It's so easy if you live in the West to pretend the whole world is OK and atrocities against humans don't happen anymore... not true. Eye opening article. 

{Marriage is for Losers} http://drkellyflanagan.com/2012/03/02/marriage-is-for-losers/

          Love this. Want to seek to be more of a "loser" in my marriage.

{50 Ways to Inspire your Husband} http://www.momlifetoday.com/2011/03/50-ways-to-inspire-your-husband/

          Yes. Need to work on this...

{31 Days of Praying for your Husband} http://www.raisinggodlychildren.org/2011/11/31-days-of-praying-for-your-husband.html?mid=5275409

          Again, yes. I need to work on this...

{Why the World will never See Me as a good Parent} http://wearethatfamily.com/2012/03/why-the-world-will-never-see-me-as-a-good-parent/

          Most days it feels like an uphill battle to disengage my parenting from "culture" and try to be biblical in the way I teach and relate to my children. It's good to remember my goal is not for the world to think I am a good parent (whatever that means to them!) but to point my children to Christ.

{Confessions of a Routine-Loving Mother} http://www.huffingtonpost.com/mobileweb/2012/04/09/mom-doesnt-like-play_n_1396669.html?icid=hp_parents_art_more

          This.is.so.me. Just letting go and playing with my children (not directing their play or encouraging their independent play) is SO hard for me.

{The Littleness of Motherhood} http://www.feminagirls.com/2012/04/10/the-littleness-of-motherhood/

          Such a good reminder why the "little things" are actually big things that matter very much!

{Contentment} http://www.feminagirls.com/2012/03/02/contentment/

          If you live overseas, this is a great read! Ten years from now when I look at my life now, I will probably not remember all the little things that got under my skin and irritated me about living overseas-- I will remember the good things, the fun things, the memorable things.


{Why the City is a wonderful Place to Raise Children} http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2012/02/15/why-the-city-is-a-wonderful-place-to-raise-children/
          Such encouragement for those of us seeking to raise kids in big cities!

Big as Mommy?

Seriously, is that a fat joke?

Only a Day Away...

Doodlebug crawled into a full bathtub tonight in his pajamas. I had already bathed him, removed him, toweled him off, diapered and dressed him. I guess he thought he wasn't done playing.

Some other bug of mine* has had three pee accidents in two days.

This mess was waiting for me when I got out of the shower this morning:

I am so glad God designed parenthood to be a tag-team effort.

Sometimes it's easy to take our husbands for granted-- laugh at their different methods, belittle their effort to "help", and deem ourselves the most capable parent of the home.

I tell you what, take Hubby away and I feel pretty darn incapable. Sure, he does stuff differently (like leaving the house without brushing his daughter's hair), but at least when he's here someone can supervisor the monsters while I stand in a stream of hot water and wake up. I don't have to give bath, clean the kitchen up, and get everyone jammied before 8pm all by myself. Someone can clean up the kid who peed his pants while the other can start the laundry and locate and mop up the pee-puddle.

What a blessing to have a partner in this awesome misadventure of parenthood! I'm so glad my love will return tomorrow afternoon! (Rumor has it he's bringing presents too-- help with the kids and fun gifts??? What's not to love?)

*Name withheld to protect the guilty.

Chasing the Moon

Hubby is gone for a few days for work, so tonight the kids and I called a cab and headed out on an adventure to the mall. I'd like to give a shout out to my new best friend, IKEA, for their free child-care, and warehouse full of cheap housewares for me to breathe and browse while the two oldest Bugs play.

We ate dinner, played at IKEA, looked for a baby gate in another store (I really need one to keep Doodlebug out of the kitchen, ya know), shared an iced (decaf) coffee, looked for pants for Stinkbug, ran to the bathroom because MOMMYIREALLYHAVETOPEE,I'MGONNAPEEMYPANTSRIGHTNOW happened. And then we hopped into another cab with my IKEA bag (I got a new pillow), and rode home.

As we exited the highway my eye caught sight of a huge faintly glowing orb hanging low in the nearly black sky. I pointed it out to the kids, and they tried to track the moon from the window as the taxi turned and turned before depositing us outside our building.

The Bugs were still asking about the moon when we got out of the cab, so I asked if they wanted to hunt it down and see if we could catch it. Ears perked, eyes brightened. Imaginary flashlights flickered on and we were off. We walked and walked and I was worrying a little that because of the mess of cars and buildings and city life, we wouldn't be able to glimpse the moon again, but we turned one last corner and there it was. Glorious harvest moon. Breath-takingly beautiful in the dark night.

We stopped to appreciate its hugeness and then the kids ran off to try and get closer. 

Come on, mommy, we have to catch it!

At last, we tired of stalking the moon (we had expended a lot of energy at the mall already...), and we trooped back home. On the way, Stinkbug keep asking me to point out the moon to him. He wanted to catch every sight of it he possibly could before it disappeared from view. I smiled at his amazement, a good reminder for me to stop and enjoy.

As I went through the evening chaos monotony routine (potty, brush teeth, pajamas, devotions, track down loveys, get water cups, potty again, kiss goodnight), my heart just felt lighter. I'm glad I went on a moon-chase whim tonight. It felt good to throw normalcy and schedule to the wind, and click on my imaginary magical flashlight (Ladybug's idea) and hunt down the big, beautiful moon.

That particular moon-- the glowing orange ball, as perfectly round as a dinner plate, hanging eerily low over our city-- will never exist again. But it will forever live in my heart-- along with Ladybug's eager running ahead to catch a glimpse, and Stinkbug's wild exclaiming about the size of the moon. 

Let us not forget as moms to hold our routines, our normalcy, our sanity, our plans in open hands, and instead hold tightly to the little ones who will forever be slipping like water from our fingers. Chase the moon. Seize the moment. Enjoy your kids.

Chocolate or Poop?

If you haven't seen Baby Mama, then you must not like to laugh during movies... I laugh OUT LOUD through most of this movie. In fact, it's playing this morning while I fold the never-ending laundry pile (I swear, laundry breeds like rabbits when you have three kids!)

This scene just makes me giggle- Hubby and I actually has the "Chocolate or Poop?" conversation recently about a brown spot we found somewhere (on the carpet or someone's clothes, I can't remember now). Thankfully, it turned out to be chocolate too.

I chose to sniff-test instead of lick-test.

How do you decide Chocolate or Poop around your house?

Roll With It

Crap happens in motherhood.

And not just the kind that you give a bath for after it explodes out of a diaper. Stuff just happens in motherhood. It will always happen. Something will always being happening in motherhood to grow me, stretch my boundaries, make me uncomfortable, and bring me to my knees.

It's OK. I'm pretty sure that's how it's supposed to be.

For sure my 17 month old will learn to climb to the top bunk without help the day Hubby goes out of town. (True story.)

Definitely, someone will start running a fever/coughing/vomiting/having diarrhea 10 minutes after you remark that your entire family has been healthy for a week.

Certainly your oldest child will ask a question that will lead into a discussion that sits uncomfortably close to the birds and the bees territory when you're the least prepared for it.

Absolutely someone will fall down and get hurt during the game that the kids invented themselves. Stitches may be required.

Your youngest child will absolutely lose it and start screaming while everyone in church is trying to take the Lord's Supper peacefully.

Of course, (fill in the blank) will cost more than you thought.

Surely there is a note in the backpack asking you to make/do/bring/help with XY and Z.

If you're gonna be a mom, you've got to just be mentally prepared that something is going to happen today (and every day thereafter that someone calls you "Mom") that will take you out of your comfort zone. But you gotta roll with it-- grin and clean it up /talk it out/ fix it up/ pay for it/ drive it anyway/ give it away/ make it/ bake it/ deliver it/ repair it/ask for help and laugh about it. Never forget to laugh about it. That's key in rolling with the motherhood punches.

And look at the bright-side... the uh-ohs of motherhood make for great blog posts!

Feeling Down?

Is anyone else tired of being good at NOTHING? Maybe it's good for nothing. Maybe it's both.

Almost seven years ago, I put on a white dress and some flip flops (yes, truly!) and marched down a flower-littered aisle to my college sweetheart's waiting grin. I wasn't prepared to be a wife- who is?- and at almost 29, I still don't feel ready to be a wife some days.

Four and a half years ago, after all day labor that I didn't feel prepared for or good at, and a C-section anyway, I was handed a nine pound pink bundle of little girl. I felt like I was guessing and playing the trial-and-error game as we faced breastfeeding, diaper changing, mobile baby days, solids, sickness, and getting pregnant again not too long later. At the end of most days I can look back and point out some way I failed as a mother- yelling, cooking from a box, not disciplining, disciplining too harshly, letting a teachable moment slide, forgetting a promise, letting the kids eat candy, turning on the TV so I could have a moment to myself... you get point.

Two years and some months ago, we moved overseas and I became a language learner. "Language learner" might sound like an exciting title to you, but it actually sucks when it's yours. At first I survived everything- the grocery store, visits with friends, the pharmacy, riding a bus, putting money on my metro card, ordering at restaurants- with pointing and grunting. Humbling to say the least. Nowadays I know some words and sentence structures, but often my words tumble out in the wrong order with wrong verbiage I has kids three and wife at home stay. I even ask my four year old vocabulary now because she has surpassed my language skills. Embarrassing, right?

When all three of my "main jobs" are suffering and stuff feels out-of-whack... Hubby and I have a disagreement, the kids are acting like lunatics, and my tongue is too sluggish to say my name much less share a spiritual Truth with someone, it's easy to feel plain ol' down and depressed.

Sometimes I think that's exactly where the Lord wants me.

For some reason, when things are going my way, I tend to think I had something to do with it. I get this big ol' head thinking that life is going just right because I am some kick-butt awesome wife, mom, language learner. I actually think that things are smooth and cool because I am somehow good and can do all my jobs on my own. I stop seeking and trusting the Lord and start to juggle everything on my own strength. Usually that lasts all of about three days before I find myself back in the valley gazing up at the sky.

I try to be thankful for my down days, my days in the valley, because words have never been truer than these I read often in The Valley of Vision:

Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly, 

Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision, 

where I live in the depths but see Thee in the heights; 

hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold Thy glory. 

Let me learn by paradox 

that the way down is the way up, 

that to be low is to be high, 

that the broken heart is the healed heart, 

that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit, 

that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, 

that to have nothing is to possess all, 

that to bear the cross is to wear the crown, 

that to give is to receive, 

that the valley is the place of vision. 

Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells, 

and the deeper the wells the brighter Thy stars shine; 

let me find Thy light in my darkness, 

Thy life in my death, 

Thy joy in my sorrow, 

Thy grace in my sin, 

Thy riches in my poverty, 

Thy glory in my valley.

Life...

...is just crazy with the loop-de-loops and whoop-de-doops and it feels like a giant roller coaster that for a nano second seems like it will slow down but then WHOA! it speds right back up and then flips you upside-down. And you want to toss your cookies.

After the move, I was sans Internet for a week, and although the first few days I had this horrible feeling that I was missing an important email (who am I kidding?) or a super wow status on Facebook (again, who am I kidding?) I felt this immense FREEDOM. Imagine this, I was actually able to fold all the laundry and empty the dishwasher and vacuum and put things away in my new house. All in one day!

And you guys, I've been reading BOOKS. Some real live with-pages books, and some Kindle books. But I've read all 7 Harry Potters (again) and almost all of Real Marriage and some of Feminine Appeal. And I've been keeping up with my Bible reading plan (which usually I've ditched by February because I'm behind already!) It's like a whole-new me! Seriously, I haven't read this much since Ladybug was born, and I have missed it!

Yup, so now I'm all convicted about what a TIME SUCK the interwebs are, and y'all know I'm right. Right? Right?! Seriously- between email and blogging and Google Reader and Facebook and Pinterest and Words With Friends think of all the valuable time I'm choosing to pour into cyberspace that I'll never get back.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not doing anything drastic like cancelling my Facebook yet... but I'm am more conscious about my time online now... especially when I start to wonder why the laundry's not folded or the dishwasher's not empty...

I will say that being a Muggle is hard work. Can you even wrap your mind around how useful spells like "Accio _____" would be for a mom? Or how Mrs. Weasley does some configurations with her wand and the vegetables start chopping themselves for dinner. Amazing!  If only I had a wand! I guess I just need to get off the Internet and start doing my Muggle mom work by hand...

Trouble

I seem to find our third-born in a lot of naughty messy interesting circumstances lately. Tonight I walked into the kitchen to find this-- unlucky for me, he's learned how to climb up to the table by himself, so nothing is "safe" by just setting it up on the table. 

One night Doodlebug walked into the living room chowing on a lollipop he had fished out of the trash that was covered in hair. (And that's not the only instance when I've discovered Doodlebug eating from the trash.)

I swear, I feed this kid three meals a day plus snacks!

Another day recently, I was sitting on the couch, and he walked up and put the toilet cleaning brush on my lap with a triumphant grin. After gagging, and washing all of his extremities (and mine), I declared that the bathroom doors must be kept SHUT so that Doodlebug could not access the limitless "toys" bathrooms contain.

Good thing he's cute.

Sweet Siblings

...and my heart is a puddle.

(And although I know they will want to kill me when they are 17 and 16 for sharing this with the interwebs at large - I just love it too much to keep it to myself. You're welcome.)

A small Gripe about Motherhood

Green Army Men.

They are everywhere. Ev.er.y.where. in this house. 

It's like they lie in wait to ambush me and then jump under my feet when I'm walking around only wearing socks. And then I want to cuss because those little guns sticking up hurt! But all I can think about is that scene from Toy Story when the green army guy gets stepped on and he's injured and I kinda feel bad for the little guy I stepped on...

What is up with that?!

Mary, where'd you go?

Notice anything unusual about our nativity?

We can't find Mary anywhere!

I'm sure Mary was a good mom, but she was human. She probably felt like running away sometimes. 

That thought gives me comfort. 

As much as a love my children, and would give my life for theirs without a second thought... I've brought all this baggage to motherhood with me. My sins, my shortcomings, my selfishness and it doesn't take much to bring those nasty, ugly parts of myself to the surface. Often, I find myself wanting to run away from it all.

Thankfully, there is a place I can always run. 

In the presence of the Lord, I find compassion unending, mercies anew, and more grace than I deserve. He washes me clean from sin's blackness, and bandages my wounds with His healing words. He mends my aching heart and gives me courage to keep going.

Are you like our Mary today? Tired and ready to run away? Take heart and run to the One who wrapped Himself in flesh and came to be "God with us". 

Things no Mom Wants to Hear:

• I just pooped in my underwear.
• I had a bad dream, can I sleep in your bed? (any time between 12am and 6am)
• Mom, are you mad at me? I just broke something.
• Ew, I don't want to eat (insert name of food that Mommy spent an hour plus preparing for dinner)!
• *cough cough cough* waaaaaaaaaa (only twenty minutes into nap-time)
• Mommy, your tummy is really big.

This job doesn't pay enough...

(I've heard all of these in the past 48 hours...)

What would you add to the list of things moms don't want to hear?

Breastfeeding Momfessions

If I were being honest, I would tell you breastfeeding is not my favorite part of motherhood. In fact, I have told several people that. I was determined to nurse Ladybug, and it was very hard and very painful in the beginning. I would watch the clock, dreading the moment she would wake and need to nurse again, and I cried through each feeding. I reduced my "goal" from six months to one month, and decided if I was still struggling at the one month mark, I would give it up. The Lord was gracious to heal us by one month, and I was able to continue to nurse Ladybug.

I appreciate being able to nurse Ladybug more now than I did at the time. Maybe a painful, rocky beginning colored my view of breastfeeding.  Maybe it was the cultural attitudes about breastfeeding that affected how I felt about nursing. Maybe it was all the mixed messages I was receiving about nursing and sleep training and all those conflicting things that new moms hear from doctors, books, well-meaning friends, parents, etc. (Everyone else seems to think they know how you should care for your infant!)

I was pregnant again when Ladybug was eight months old, and I decided to wean so the new little bug could have all the nourishment he needed from me. So we weaned. And Ladybug was such a content li'l bugger, she never looked back.

Stinkbug was a distracted nursling. On off, on off, look around, stress mommy out. It didn't help that during my seven months of breastfeeding Stinkbug, we packed and sold all of our earthly belongings to move overseas. I was on emotional overload and having such a distracted nursing baby was pushing me over the edge. After reaching my six month goal, it just became easier to give him a bottle, and by seven months, we were completely done.

I don't regret either of my first two nursing experiences. My goal was six months for each, and both times I succeeded.

I have grown a lot as a mom since 2007 when I held my first brand new baby and tried to get her to nurse. When Doodlebug was placed in my arms in 2010, I knew what to do.

But more than mechanics, I had come to appreciate breastfeeding as more than just a meal for my baby.

As a stressed out first time mom, the clock ruled my world. I had read some questionable "infant training" materials and I didn't trust myself because the books didn't seem to trust that I would know what to do.

I wanted baby to nurse for X amount of minutes at designated intervals and sleep all night. Period. Those things equaled success in my mind. I felt guilty and anxious if those things weren't happening exactly as the books prescribed.

And then Doodlebug arrived on the Momfessions scene.

I have really enjoyed my nursing relationship with Doodlebug. Doodlebug loves drinking his milk, and I have loved giving it to him. I feel so proud of the fact that I have provided him with milk for the past 364 days.

Today I asked him if he wanted some milkie and he cruised over to me smiling, and pulled at my shirt.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Doodle is our last (planned) biological baby that has caused me to enjoy nursing him so much. Maybe it's being a third-time mom that has made me relax and just nurse him without worry, without anxiety. Whatever it is, I am so thankful for this breastfeeding journey with Doodlebug.

My goal with Doodlebug was a year and tomorrow, I will have made my goal of one year. And I'm pretty proud of it. I feel like it's been a hard and rewarding journey and it has changed me so much-- just like every other aspect of parenting!

image credit

Coughing...and coughing... and moms don't get sick days

You know that terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thing about being sick when you are so.tired.you.just.need.to.lie.down. And like a good girl who obeys her body, so she can get better quickly, you lie down at 8:12pm, right after the kids?

And then this annoying tickle starts in your throat.

And causes you to spend the entire night coughing hacking up a lung instead of sleeping. And no drink, cough drop, or other trick mama taught you helps the (evil) tickle go away?

And the next night you're so frustrated 'cause you know it's gonna happen again, so instead of going to bed you decide to blog about it?

Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about? Hmmm. Maybe it's just me.

Things I Didn't Know Before I Was a Mom

1. Man may not be able to live on bread alone, but moms can totally survive on coffee and leftover mac-n-cheese.
2. What was found in baby's diaper is completely acceptable dinner conversation between spouses. (I saw party confetti in Ladybug's diaper one time...)
3. Bribes are not only OK but necessary to keep the peace sometimes. If you smile for this picture, Mommy will give you a big lollipop!
4. Moms spend way more time coordinating and picking out baby's wardrobe than their own. (Maybe this has something to do with the fact that whatever I choose to wear will end up pooped on, peed on, spit up on, or otherwise dirtied?! Apparently to some small people I look like a human napkin.
5. Time alone is priceless. Even half an hour alone in the bathroom to read a magazine or take a shower (and shave!) can turn an awful day into a decent one.
6. Accessories are not for beauty, but for baby to have play things when they get bored in public. Same thing with keys and cell phones.
7. A baby making a HUGE mess with spaghetti sauce all over the floor, high chair, face, hair, bib, clothes, diaper, feet, and table is adorable and will take up about 2GB on a camera's memory card.
8. Grandparents: can't live with them, can't live without them. They are in a class all by themselves.
9. A mom's life is not her own. Traveling to ballet class, doing preschool activities, helping with homework, nursing the baby, disciplining disobedience, making snacks, fixing dinner, washing clothes, finding missing shoes, packing backpacks, making lunches, taking pictures, seizing teachable moments, emailing grandparents, bathing babies, laying out clothes, vacuuming floors, wiping noses, changing diapers, answering why? 27,857 times a day, pushing swings, playing pee-a-boo, reading books...
10. There is no job more emptying and yet more fulfilling than being a mom. These days, every little moment is so precious.

More poop than you would ever care to read about.

Someone found my blog this weekend by Googling “kid pooping underwear”. I’m sorry that they probably didn’t find any helpful information here because MY KID IS STILL POOPING IN HIS UNDERWEAR.

Really. I am not sure how this is supposed to go. With Ladybug it was easy- she had the promise of a shiny, new toy, and she started pooping and peeing in the potty. Easy. Done. Potty-trained.

Not so with Stinkbug. One day he poops on the floor right in front of the potty. Then he poops in his underwear. Then he poops in his diaper and finishes in a new diaper. I already told you that poop ended up in the laundry which I am still having nightmares about. This morning I cleaned poop off the bottom of Ladybug's foot which sent me on a hunt to find poop on the couch and on the floor in the living room. I am not sure if it was Stinkbug's or Doodlebug's poop, but it doesn't really matter who pooped, what matters the most is that MY CHILDREN SONS ARE IN A POOP CONSPIRACY AGAINST ME.

I thought I would reason with the potty-training child:

Me: Stinkbug, does it feel good to poop in your underwear?

SB: Yes. (and he continues playing)

So, no dice on the reasoning.

I made a cool new sticker chart to encourage pooping in the potty, so he could earn a toy. Nope.

I have tried to bribe with candy, even upping the ante to two lollipops if he will just poop in the dang potty. No luck yet.

I can't say I'm surprised. Stinkbug has always been a pooper--as evidenced here by a blowout which resulted in a bathtub full of poopy water and pajamas thrown in the trash:

I'm sure one day as I fret about curfews and driver's licenses and girlfriends and colleges, I'll miss these days of fretting about poop. And that thought makes me smile... and almost makes me feel grateful for these poopy days.

Too Cute

 Me: Stinkbug, what's Grover doing under your shirt?

SB: Drinking mook*.

*Mook= Milk

Ballerina Girl

Before Ladybug's recital night, I had nightmares visions of her running from the stage screaming, "MOOOOMMMMMMMEEEEEEEE!", and me promptly melting into an embarrassed puddle. I am glad to report that she stayed on the stage and did (almost) all of the dance moves she was supposed to at (almost) the right time. Whew!

I feel like I've entered a new era-- my kids doing things without me. Ladybug attended practices, developed friendships with the other little ballerinas, (mostly) obeyed her teacher, practiced for a recital, and then performed on stage without me.

As wonderfully amazing as it is to watch these little human beings I grew inside my womb grow into their own little people, it's horrifying and ridiculous and annoying also.

Is this motherhood? A constant wistfulness about the quick passing of time, and yet a breath-taking excitement as our little ones grow to big ones-- tackling and conquering the world?

Free-Write Friday {4}

My payment as a mother doesn't come in a check. There's nothing to deposit in the bank at the end of the week.

Sloppy kisses as I tuck my son into his bed. Milk-mustached smiles from a baby as he finishes nursing. Freshly picked dandelions given with the admonishment to put them in some water, so you can keep them forever--

These are the moments that compensate me for long hours, constant demands, and no sick days.

A freshly-bathed baby wanting to snuggle up before bed, a sick darling who only wants mama's care to make her feel better, a precious masterpiece of squiggles and swirls drawn especially for me.

These are things you can't hang a price tag on.

The days are so long sometimes, the tasks so mundane. The thanks so little. But when I stop to appreciate the small joys of motherhood set before me every day, I am so thankful that God made me a mom. Truly, there is no higher calling in life.