children

Deny-ers and Obsess-ers

There are going to be some days when I completely fail as a mother.

This is true for all of us, but what really gets under my skin is moms who don’t believe this could ever be so for them. Or at least they wouldn’t ever admit it out loud.

But it shouldn’t get under my skin, which probably means there’s a little bit of that “denial” in me too.

When we deny that we fail, we will stay in that failure, and the same goes true when we obsess over failure.

I usually lean towards the obsessing. I don’t like when I fail. I’ll admit that I do it, but boy does it crush me. It can get me down so bad that I don’t even want to get out of bed.

My fleshly pride is disappointed in myself for not living up to it’s expectations of excellence and perfection, because now it has nothing to boast about.

If you want, read that last sentence out loud.

Pretty vile, huh?

It’s true for you too.

Don’t think you deny-ers are getting out of this one. That same fleshly pride tells you that there’s no way you have failed, because you are just so awesome. It’s your kids or your husband that suck! That pride makes sure that vulnerability and confession stay far far away.

Go ahead, read that out loud too.

Cause that’s probably also true for you as well.

I know it is, because I know it of me. And at the end of the day, we are all the same human-y humans.┬áComing from a home where one parent denied failure and the other one drowned himself in it, neither of these is going to be good for your children. (disclaimer- I love my parents, and my mom and I are working on things together. At the end of the day, I’m responsible for my actions- no one else.)

Stop denying your failures, and learn from them.

Stop obsessing over your failures, and learn from them.

At the end of the yucky day, confess, repent, and resolve to start over tomorrow.

I promise you, your children (or spouse, friends, co-workers, team members, community group, etc) will watch how you handle failure. Use it as a tool for grace, learning and the gospel.

Its not even 10 yet. You still have time to start the day over.

1 Year Olds!!

I am surprisingly excited that I get to play with not just one babe, but TWO today! And all of Tuesdays and Thursdays for the month of May. My friend Melissa, who watches her own 3 year old and a couple of other kids from church, is about to pop out another little boy this weekend. I get to watch one of the kids that she had under her care while she has the baby and enjoys some time off. Little Miss Maggie is a pleasure! She is a few months older than Abram, and they hit it off so quick this morning! Abe and Maggie have played before, but only in the babe room at church. They’ve never had some good quality 1 year old time together. Her parents are fantastic and really laid back, so I figured it would be an easy day. Here are some pictures from their play time outside this morning!

The Sh-sh-sh-shakes

Yesterday a terrorist that looked like my child traded lives with him.

Granted, teeth are starting to plow through his gums at full force now. And he did have a rash on his little booty that was something awful. But my gawwwl. His discomfort propelled him into doing everything that he was not supposed to do with an iron will. I lost count of the tantrums by noon.

Several things happen when a day like yesterday sideswipes me with no forewarning from my periph:

1) I want to eat everything that is terrible

2) I want to watch everything that will make me feel like I am escaping

3) I get a jaw-clenching headache

4) The sh-sh-sh-shakes

5) I think of ways to sound extra desperate so that I can convince Daniel to come home

6) The thought of moving, much less working out, makes me hate life

7) I rarely, if ever at all, think to ask God for help

I can just hear the gasps of judgement coming through the computer screen as the perfect moms of America read this in complete shock and bewilderment. Praise God I don’t know too many of those. I’d punch them in their perfectly groomed hair.

Anyways, I feel like numbers 6 and 7 are pretty sucky. But besides being a sad state of affairs, I feel like they may be tied to one another in a way.

My normal inclination would have been to feel all of those things and follow through with them. But yesterday, somewhere in all of the frazzle-ness I mustered up enough life to work out. I ended up vigorously dancing for 25 minutes and burned about 200 calories. I also did 50 crunches, 15 in-and-outs and 10 push-ups. That’s incredible for a day like yesterday.

I also felt more peaceful spiritually. I was able to thank God for the day instead of dismissing Him all together. That’s incredible for a day like yesterday.

The physical and the spiritual seem to ignite each other. Sometimes when I feel like giving up on health, God encourages me through prayer, another person, a picture, something I read, etc. And sometimes when I don’t feel like having a relationship with God, exercise pushes me towards Him.

It’s pretty sweet. I don’t know, I feel like there should be a conclusion or a “moral of the story,” but it just feels really simple this time.

What kind of stuff defines days like this for you? What are you defaults when these days occur?

How do you fight it?