You Can't Make Mistakes

I had a particularly rough evening.

I know, we're only 2 days into summer break and it's already rough.

But this wasn't about the princesses.

It was about me.

I made the mistake of taking a look at our budget and bills this evening, before putting the princesses to bed.  Big mistake.  Things are a bit bleak financially at the moment.  And have I mentioned that I don't compartmentalize well?

That would be a HUGE understatement.

So unfortunately, after looking at a depressing picture, I didn't exactly manage bedtime all that well.

I'm ashamed to say that I raised my voice more times than necessary.  I expected perfection from my beautifully imperfect little souls.  I needed complete peace in my home to calm the turmoil in my mind.  And we all know peace in a home with 4 kids is an impossibility.

I was not nice.

After getting the princesses in bed and saying prayers, I asked forgiveness of my girls.  I held the hands of my two big girls while we sang our good night songs.  The same three songs we've sung every night since Princess #1 was born.  And as we sang, tears rolled down my cheeks.

These precious babies, entrusted to my care, loving me in spite of my shortcomings.  How do I deserve so much?  I could barely keep it together.

I knelt down to kiss my Princess #2, and as I did she grabbed my hand and stroked my face as it lay close to hers.  She wiped the tears from my cheek and whispered her forgiveness:

"You know you can't make any mistakes."

And although on the surface her theology might be a bit off, I think she said exactly what she meant.  There's nothing I can do, nothing I can say that would put me beyond her love.  No mistake is too big, no error so great that her love can not reach me.

I needed that grace tonight.  I need it every single day.  Thank you Lord Jesus for that grace.  Thank you for showing me through my precious child.

Hide And Seek

Did you know that trash that has been sitting in a bag, in a garbage can, in the hot hot sun for 2 days is really, really nasty?

All I have to say is that we drink a butt load of coffee judging by the coffee grounds that were all over everything.

And why do I know all this you may ask?

Well, if one's hubs were to wait until he needed to leave for work to start looking for his car keys, and said keys weren't in the usual places, so he had to drive the van to work, leaving one searching frantically all over the house for the stupid keys, fueled by the knowledge that they are stuck at home with 4 kids until said stupid keys are found, and aggravation that they were the last ones to drive the car and are thus responsible for losing said stupid keys - AND that one started to worry that maybe they had accidentally thrown them away in the kitchen trash the night before while unloading groceries... well, that one might be compelled to go through the nasty trash.

One should have waited until a certain 5 year old came home from school.

Really, TIME Magazine?

Do you think we're stupid to fall for this?

Mothers are the blood, sweat and tears behind child-rearing.  We are the ones that sustain life in our own for 9 months, and birth with pain, labor and strength.  We are the ones who juggle the myriad of decisions to be made regarding our children, researching endlessly, engaging in numerous discussions, enduring sleepless nights.  We are the ones that kiss invisible booboos, have tea parties with teddy bears and fly around the backyard with our super hero blankets tied around our necks.

There are as many variations on the same theme as there are stars in the sky.  For every extended breast feeder there will be another bottle feeder.  For every epidural there will be a drug free home birth.  For every public school student there will be a homeschooler.  For every attached child there will be one tear stained alone in their crib.  We all do what we determine to be the best for our families with the information we've been given.  We all approach motherhood with a foundation, a lens and personal experience to draw upon.  And perhaps shockingly to you, many of us are very well prepared for it.

Do you think we're so dumb that we can't see inflammatory, purposely controversial propaganda when it's shoved in our faces?

Do we mean so little to collective society that it's become fun and games to pick at parenting choices, to isolate the outliers, to make fun of a mother's instinct?

To attempt to divide and conquer speaks volumes about your respect for motherhood, and women in general.

And we wonder why our world is spinning out of control.

Take a step back TIME Magazine.  And Happy Mother's Day.

Why I've Been Gone

I've been writing a post in my head for weeks.  Explaining my absence.  Trying to do it in love and not condemnation.  But it never sounded right.  Until now.

Go to the link below, read it, absorb it.  That's where you'll find me.

This is so heavy on my heart right now.  Childhood is fragile, impressionable, fleeting.  I don't want to miss it.  And even more heartbreaking, I don't want to miss the future.  Because one day, in a shockingly short amount of time, I will be desperate for connection with my teenage daughters, and if I'm not careful, they will give me the same time of day I once gave them.

No more.

I'm not hanging my blogging hat forever.  But I've got to figure out where it stands in my list of priorities. And right now it's low.  Way, way low.

How to Miss A Childhood