Turn this MERRY into MIGHTY Christmas

It is difficult to escape the heaviness that lingers in the air right now.  The tragedy in Connecticut stands in heavy contrast to the "Christmas spirit" that 'tis the season.

I have a 6 year old son.

It's hard not to see his face when I hear the news and contemplate how this could have happened.  It's difficult for me to shut off the questions that come as I think of him ever being in a situation like that.  I cannot even begin to process the pain of searing loss if I were dealing with the aftermath as these parents are.

I am a teacher.

I am entrusted these beautiful children, these souls, to instruct and shepherd as they are in my care.  It is unfathomable to ponder a moment like that in my classroom.  Innocence shattered.  Fear unbridled.  Ugliness and evil screaming out.

I have prayed many prayers over the past few days.  Small prayers whispered under my breath as my brain tries to wrap itself around this news.  Prayers of gratitude for messy craft tables and sticky fingerprints.  Prayers of gratitude for "one more hug" at bedtime.  Prayers of comfort for the families experiencing this searing loss and unfathomable pain right now.  Prayers of protection for my own children and the children I teach.  Prayers for peace that transcend our understanding.  For, truly, this is something no one can understand.

The one thing that I continue to come back to is my favorite line from one of my favorite Christmas carols ("O Little Town of Bethlehem"):

"The hopes and fears of all the years 

are met in Thee tonight."

For the past two weeks I have been sharing this line with my students as we work on our Christmas art projects.  It is awe inspiring to me.  I think about all the hopes and all the fears from the beginning of time to the end of time, and I try to stack them on top of each other in the tallest tower that stretches higher than the heavens.  I then see Jesus, and he knocks it over and they crumble.  He came to be Emmanuel and to know and share in our highest hopes and the deepest fears.  He came to live with us the mess that is this life, and ultimately defeat those ugly fears.  He knew longing like we know longing.  He knew pain and loss and brokeness and ugliness.

The fears in that classroom in Connecticut alone are too much for my heart and mind to comprehend.  And yet, this Jesus, my Jesus, takes those, and the fears of the mothers through the ages, the whispers from the darkest moments of the Holocaust, and all the other crazy painful moments in history, and he carries them on his shoulders.  It makes the gift of the cross bigger today.  I cannot even sit in the reality of what that classroom must have felt like for longer than a few seconds - it is just too much.  Jesus doesn't walk away.  He doesn't say, "It is too much."  No - he walks towards it.  And more.  And he carries it and he defeats it.

The celebration of the angels and the stars blazing in the sky at His birth make more sense now.  Light in contrast to darkness.  The hope that arrives in contrast to the darkness that has lingered is just so beautiful.  I believe heaven shudders at these ugly moments in history.  It aches to see pain and darkness and evil.  That moment in time when the plan for redemption was put into motion - that moment when Jesus was born - that was the moment that heaven celebrates that an end to the darkness is near.

So, today, I pause to reflect on that beautiful thought.  That He came to cover the fears, and to know the hopes.  We still see the ugly because we are stuck in the now and not yet.  It is not yet perfect, but in the now, we can still see that HE CAME.  He entered this yuck, for the purpose of carrying the pain.

My dear friend, Tim Timmons, has written two songs that have become my soundtrack for the last few days.  They are Christmas songs and they are timely.

The first is his version of "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem" with his own flair added in.
To listen, go here.

The chorus says,
"Rejoice!  Rejoice! Emmanuel, God is here.
Rejoice!  Rejoice!  If God is for us, we won't fear.
Take joy in the comfort of the Prince of Peace,
And joy in the power of the King of Kings,
Rejoice!  And, again we say Rejoice!"

The second in on the album "A Christmas Together", vol 3 and it is called "Mighty Christmas".   The phrase "Merry Christmas" is viewed in our present days as happy, jolly, twinkly.  But, "merry" in the old school language was more along the lines of "mighty".  Robinhood and his MERRY men were not happy men giggling through the forest.  They were MIGHTY men.  A force to be reckoned with.

This song is all about the need for this year to be different.  For Jesus to turn the merry into a Mighty Christmas.  For the hopes and fears and doubts to be broken by the power that is in Him.  If ever we needed a mighty Christmas, I would say it is now.  That is one of the prayers I continue to whisper.  That God, in the way that only He can, would show up for these families.  That He would bring mighty  peace and mighty hope into a very dark and broken place.

To play "Mighty Christmas", click on the play icon and it will take you to Tim's myspace radio page: Mighty Christmas
Here are the lyrics to "Mighty Christmas".  If you are someone who is at a loss for what to pray right now, pray these lyrics.  God is listening...

What if all of this were true?
Emmanuel, how God came through
Is this more than Christmas cheer?
Is this just a story, what if it's real?
Would I still be lonely,
Would I know fear,
Would my worry hold me
Could I be healed?

Crying out loud,
This year Like never before 
Jesus reveal a little more to my soul
Would you show me just how powerful 
You are more than a manger
Jesus the mighty Savior 
in my soul, turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas
Turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas

What if in my silent nights
You were enough 
You were the light
Angels saying do not fear
Is this still the promise?
You still come near

Meet me in my lonely
Tear down my fear
Hold me through my worry
And, Lord would you heal

Crying out Loud - 
This year like never before, 
Jesus reveal a little more

Would you show me just how powerful 
You are more than a manger
Jesus the mighty Savior 
in my soul, turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas
Turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas


Stronger than the weight of gravity
That whisper in my bones reminding me
Everything I'm not, and I try to be
You are


Meet me in my lonely
Tear down my fear
Hold me through my worry
And, Lord would you heal

Crying out Loud - 
This year like never before, 
Jesus reveal a little more

Would you show me just how powerful 

You are more than a manger
Jesus the mighty Savior 
in my soul, turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas
Turn this Merry into Mighty Christmas



I am wishing you a mighty Christmas.

sigh.

I have a lot of love for the book, Jesus Calling. It has been such a gift to my days in a busy season. It feels as though each day has not only been written for me, but that it truly has been written for THAT day.

This was what I read a few days ago.

I love that phrase so much - "instead of grasping and controlling, you are learning to release and receive."

It is funny - I have been so sensitive lately to the "grasping and controlling" that I see in my children. It is like needles on a chalkboard when I see them walking through life with a posture of entitlement. It is painful for me.

I had a moment this week where I caught a glimpse of myself modeling that same posture that makes me completely crazy when I see it in my children. God gently reminding me how far I have to come. And, reminding me at the same time that I should have a lot more grace for my kids.

Ouch.

Sigh.

So, today, I am thankful for this simple little devotional book that daily gives me some really good food for thought.

following the leader

Callen, you are such a wonderful big helper. Lately, you love helping me unload the silverware from the dishwasher. You hear the plates start clinking and you come running - "I wanna help!"

You give commentary the entire time ... big spoon ... little spoon ... little fork ... mama, A KNIFE (I think you relish getting to handle knives in these moments) ... big forks ...

You made my morning when you said, "Mama, look - these tea spoons are playing follow the leader."

Yes, son, they are.

Amen, sister!

Recently, a reader wrote in to an advice columnist at The Washington Post, asking about why her friend with children seemingly had no time to call her back. The author, Carolyn Hax, gave her a response I think we can all relate to:

Dear Carolyn:
My best friend has a child. 

Her: Exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc. 

Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today? 

Her: Park, play group . . .

OK. I've done Internet searches; I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please, no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners. . . . I do all those things, too, and I don't do them every day. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day, and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail?

I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events), and I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy — not a bad thing at all — but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth?

Is this a contest ("My life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids, and all us child-free folks get the same story and have the same questions.
— Tacoma, Wash.

Dear Tacoma,
Relax and enjoy. You're funny.
Or you're lying about having friends with kids.
Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.
Internet searches?

I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand — while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom friends are either lying or competing with you — is disingenuous indeed.

So, since it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. In list form. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries and questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head.

It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.
It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.
It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family members and friends, well-meaning and otherwise. It's resisting the constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.
It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything — language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity, empathy. Everything.

It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy — and then when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, you wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend — a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends or marvel at how much more productively she uses her time.

Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself.

-Carolyn Hax

My models

As promised, here are some photos of the kids in the fashion show...

{the wee ones in the hot off the press simple shoes}

{Logan & India practicing - Logan ended up walking another little one down the catwalk}

{"this modeling stuff is hard work, lets rest right here in the middle of the floor"}

{practicing - how cute is that face on Callen!}

{strutting}

{is there anything cuter than that?}

He's Too Sexy For His Shirt!

Well, apparently Callen was born to strut his stuff.  From the moment he stepped onto the "catwalk" - it was a legit catwalk with lots of lights and thumping music and a decent audience - he turned into a two year old version of Blue Steele.  He was a natural and is talking about his "big show" just about every 5 minutes.  If I was highly motivated, I would consider getting him a little agent person to help build his college fund because Lord knows we could use the padding.  But, I am a lazy mom and would rather spend my days with him at the beach or rolling cars down the slide at our park.

But, thank goodness, there were no meltdowns until after the show when he tried to sled down the sidewalk on his hands and knees (he fell).  

And, I apologize for not having any photos to share with you.  I forgot to pack my camera (yes, I know, what mother forgets her camera when her kid is going to be on stage?  That would be me!).  But, Kristen took some photos so I will share them with you soon.

Happy Weekend, Y'all!

Fashion Show

{here is Callen, flaunting his two-ness}

Tomorrow Callen is supposed to be in a Simple Shoes fashion show.  He is 2.  He is stinking cute and can definitely ham it up with the best of them.  He is charming and handsome.  Yes, all of this is true.  

But, he is 2.  The chances of meltdowns are high, and the battle of the wills could be in full force.

This is what I am hoping for...

That he makes it all the way down the "runway" with a smile on his face.

That he does not refuse to walk down the runway when it is his turn.

That he does not panic halfway down the runway and scream for me.

That he does not see any sort of snack or treat in the audience as he is walking down the runway, causing him to stop and demand a taste!

That he does not stop in the middle of the runway and "do a show" (that would mean that he would sing something that sounds a bit like a duck trying to sing and it probably would have words like "Thomas, James and Percy" but his pronunciation of "Percy" sounds much more like a horrible name for a girl's body part.)  

Oh, and I am also hoping that he gets to keep the cute simple shoes.  

As I was tucking him in bed tonight, I was prepping (brainwashing) him for his "big show where he will walk slowly in his new shoes".  I almost had to pinch him because he is just too cute when he replied:

"Oh yes.  I so stited!"

I will let you know how it goes...

to snip or not to snip?

[a brochure on vasectomy from the 1980's-note the two men discussing the procedure over coffee]

That is indeed the question of the day over here in the Bray home.  We are at a cross roads ...  do we take the plunge and solidify that we are done?  Do we wait a bit longer in case we get a strong desire to re-enter babyhood?

My youngest is going to be 3 in February and I have got to tell you, things are pretty dang sweet right now.  We can do long outings and not be overly concerned about naps.  We are in a really sweet phase.  The thought of being pregnant right now and having the morning (afternoon, evening, all night) sickness again while taking care of these two beautiful kids makes me want to give up a kidney instead.

Sure, I have a few baby twinges here and there.  When I see that belly bump poking out of the cute pregnant moms around me I kind of feel a twinge.  And, when I see the new little peanuts being carried so gently in their parents' arms, I feel a slight twinge.  When I look at these little people growing up so quickly right in front of my eyes.  Their babyhood is like a breeze that blowing through my house.  Slam goes the screen door, it is gone.

But, then the thoughts of sleepless nights and all that is entailed in another little person quickly snaps me back to my reality.  And, my reality is that I often feel like I am barely scraping by as a mom as it is.  I often end the day feeling like there is just not enough time to give these kids and to take care of my husband and our home the way that I want to.  But, maybe with each kid we let go of a little bit more of that control that we hold.  I definitely think that I am a better parent now than I was in the very beginning.  I am less freaked out by the small stuff.  More "big picture", learning to enjoy the golden moments more.

How do you know when you are done?  How do you know that it is time to snip?

opportunities all around me

The majority of us lead quiet, unheralded lives as we pass through this world. There will most likely be no ticker-tape parades for us, no monuments created in our honor. But that does not lessen our possible impact, for there are scores of people waiting for someone just like us to come along; people who will appreciate our compassion, our unique talents. Someone who will live a happier life merely because we took the time to share what we had to give. Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have a potential to turn a life around. It's overwhelming to consider the continuous opportunities there are to make our love felt.
-Leo Buscaglia

Lately I have been struck by this quote.  Because when I stop to look at my life and my days right now, it is very clear that my day is made up of mini-moments strung together that are perfect opportunities to show my love to those in my path. As a full-time SAHM, my kids are the people I am with the most.  I am trying to submit to this idea.  To lean into it.  To see each moment as an opportunity to share my love and joy with whomever I am engaged with in that moment.  It changes the way I go about filling sippy cups and preparing lunch.  Even how I lay that lunch on the table.  So often, I am plopping lunch down, shuffling kids about and scurrying from here to there in the midst of that task.  Today, I was conscious of setting it down and kissing each of my kids on the top of the head.  Small moment.  Huge difference in my day, though.  I am left feeling like I am the lucky one - to get to love on these beautiful people in my life.  My kids.  My husband.  My in-laws.  My parents.  My friends.  The lady in front of me at the grocery store.  The little kid at the park who just needs a smile.  

There really are opportunities all around me...

It is easy to love the people far away. It is not always easy to love those close to us. It is easier to give a cup of rice to relieve hunger than to relieve the loneliness and pain of someone unloved in our own home. Bring love into your home for this is where our love for each other must start.
-Mother Teresa

An idea for Obama!

Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air - explode softly - and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth - boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn't go cheap, either - not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with their imagination.
-Robert Fulghum

To Whomever Was In Charge of the Whole Time Change Thing:

This was a very bad idea. On behalf of all the other mothers of the world, please change it back.

Sincerely, 

Ali

[tired mom who is tired of waking up before 6 AM]

McCain, this could be your last minute maneuver to boost your numbers - go on all major networks and address the mothers of the world.  Tell them that you hear their cries and you understand.  And that you will make abolishing daylight savings your first plan of attack!  We would way rather have sleep than a healthy economy.  

Honestly, I think I might vote for Mickey Mouse if he would promise to abolish the time change deal.

Seriously.

There is no possible way that a mother was a part of the whole "Daylight Savings" discussion!  No. possible. way.

I mean, what mother would want time to go backwards?  

Can you picture it - "Oh, my kids wake up between 6 and 6:30 everyday, lets go ahead and move the clock backwards.  I would love another hour with them in the morning."

No Way!

So, this is a day that I have constantly been looking at the clock thinking, "It has to be 10 AM already."  No, it is 7:45.

"It has to be 10:30 by now.  I mean, we have watched our morning TV time, had breakfast, played board games, done play-doh time, played hide and go seek, please, God, let it be 10:30!"

Nope.  9:30.

I am bitter at "Fall Back."

Dear Gloria Steinem,

I wanted to thank you for fighting for equal pay for women in the work place. I also appreciate that I have a choice in whether I want to pursue career full-time, family full-time, or a combo of both.  I believe you have marked our society and the way it looks at women.  I think that we women should stick together and encourage each other in life.  I admire your passion and willingness to fight for what you believe in.  I do not necessarily agree with all your views (abortion being a huge one), but I do have to recognize that you leveraged your life, your career, your reputation to fight for the things you believe in.  I respect that.

I recently saw you on Oprah.  You were being honored for all you have done for women.  You said something that I strongly disagree with, and I had to respond.

You said:

"Gratitude never radicalized anyone."

I know the context of this was Oprah asking you if you feel frustrated that young girls in this society do not know how far women have come.  But, these words that you choose to speak are so contrary to what I believe.

You see, Ms. Steinem, I believe that gratitude is one of the biggest forces of revolution there is.  I look at our society and I see a place that is pillaged by discontent, by greed, by a lack of gratefulness.  I see a world that is hurting and broken and very, very poor.  I see that most people walk through their days with a sense of entitlement, and maybe even a bit of anger because they want more.  You may think that the most powerful form of revolution is anger - indignation - frustration with the status quo.  I am led to believe that the most powerful revolution is one in our souls.  

I have seen in recent events in my own life that my choice to walk in gratitude is transforming my life.  It is RADICALLY changing my days, my thoughts, my heart.  You are wrong.  Gratitude has radicalized me.

I pray that my heart would burn for social justice.  I pray that our culture would hurt for those who are hurting, and take a stand when it comes to social justice. That we would live radically. I truly believe that if we begin to notice and want WHAT WE HAVE, we will want to fight for others to have that as well.   We will not be consumed by our quest for more, but to share the good.

So, today, I choose to be thankful.  To revolutionize my world with gratitude.  To foster that in my children.  I hope that others will join me in this.

Sincerely, 

Ali 

grat⋅i⋅tude   [grat-i-tood, -tyood] 

–noun

the quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful: He expressed his gratitude to everyone on the staff.

Origin: 

1400–50; late ME <>

[join me in the revolution of gratitude...]

Why?

{Why am I so cute?  Why?  Why is this water a creek?  Why?   Why those turtles sleeping? Why?  Why say "Bons" to miss Bonnie?  Why?}

There was a time not so long ago that I fretted over my son's lack of speech.  I was concerned that he was not talking much.  Concerned that he was not putting two words together.  I was concerned enough to have him evaluated.  We did tests and it was determined that he had a speech delay.  Not so much that services were recommended, but enough to spin me into a googling frenzy and to make me nervous about all sorts of things related to speech and child development.

Time passes.

Things change.

Here I am now, exhausted from a day that was oh-so-full of talking.  So. Much. Talking.

He just does not stop talking.  I should pause here to say that I am thankful that he no longer has this delay.  I am thankful for the speech that is flowing out of him like a mighty rushing waterfall!  Okay, I am thankful.

But, it would sure be nice for him to use his internal narrative voice at times.  How do you teach that to a 2 1/2 year old?  Suggestions?

What amazes me almost as much as his energizer like ability to speak and speak and speak, is his father's ability to just selectively tune the talking out.  

Here is what I witnessed tonight while in the kitchen washing dishes:

[Drew is on the couch watching football.  Callen is on the couch playing with dinosaurs, sort of watching the football game, and Logan is leaning against her Drew's chest staring at the TV, probably noticing the way the helmets sparkle in the sunlight]

Callen:  "Why those guys playing football?"

Callen:  "Papa, why those guys playing football?"

Callen:  "Pa-pa!  Why those guys playing that football?"

Callen:  "Mama, why those guys playing football?"

Mama:  "Ask Papa."

[drew glances at me]

Callen:  "Papa?"

Drew:  "Yes, buddy."

Callen:  "Why those guys playing football?"

Drew: "They like to play football."

Callen:  "Oh."

Callen: "Why?"

Callen:  "Why, Papa?"

[silence...]

Callen:  "Why those guys talking?"  (referring to the sports commentators)

Callen:  "Why those guys talking?"

Callen:  "Why those guys talking?"

[I just cannot handle it any more!]

Mama:  "They are telling people what is happening."

Callen:  "Why?"

Logan:  "You are just a chatter boy."

And so it goes all day...

If this were a Sesame Street episode, it would be brought to you by the letter Y.

Why is it ...

... that horrible, horrible, brain rotting, good for nothing shows like "The Real Housewives of Atlanta" suck me in every time?  It happens so quickly.  It is like reaching for that first handful of popcorn or chocolate covered almond.  And then, the next thing you know you are holding an empty bowl with a sheepish grin and tighter pants.  Or, like when you sit down to quickly check out one blog on one website.  And then, before you know it, it is a couple hours later and your eyes are throbbing and you have carpal tunnel syndrome and your back is sweating and you cannot believe that you just visited 34 blogs when you have a mountain of laundry slowly invading your bedroom from the closet, and you still have not started dinner!

Yep, that is exactly what it is like.  My husband was flipping through the channels, and caught a couple of seconds of this show.  I was passing by, and said, [with a totally mocking tone] "What are you watching?"  He sheepishly answers:  "This real housewives show.  It is unreal."  I scoff, and then lurk for a second, and then slowly settle into the seat next to him.  -Just to watch until the next commercial, of course.  I mean, I have to see if this lady really does get the new blinging escalade from "big poppa" (her apparent sugar daddy).  She is flaunting her consumerism with reckless abandon.  I. Cannot.  Stop. Watching.

Then, the next episode starts and shows this mom throwing a $18,000 birthday party for her 11 year old.  Naturally, right?  I mean, who isn't throwing these kinds of bashes for their tweens?  I want to vomit.  I cannot stop thinking about how many kids that could feed in India.  But, I still cannot stop watching.

Oh the horrible traps i get stuck in.  

Anyone else have a guilty TV confession?  Anyone know of a website I can visit to get my 2 hours of wasted time back?

You Know You Have An Older Sister When...

{when you are dressed up as a fairy/pirate}

{when you accessorize}

{when you appreciate hair glitter and lip gloss}

{when you choose a hand bag to tote your cars}

{when you wear my little pony underwear as a "hat"}

{When your mom dresses you in pink hand me downs, like these water wings}

I am all for gender neutral parenting. I try not to push pink on Logan and I am open to Callen exploring his inner girliness. But, lately he is really embracing it! He is starting to ask for things in the shades of pink that his sister loves (can I have the pink cup, can i hold the pink bear, etc.). He is also starting to accessorize his outings with a purse or two (there is usually a car tucked inside the purse, but it is still a purse). He often demands to wear a head band (just like "mogan"). I had one day where we were headed out to watch a little preschooler buddy play soccer and Callen and I argued about whether he could wear a head band like his sister. I finally gave in, thinking, "You know, I don't really care if he wears it or not. I just don't want him to be made fun of."

How far do I let it go? I remember reading about a little boy who wanted to wear a skirt to preschool. Any other moms out there with boys who love cars and pink tulle?

Interval Training

Last week I was talking about trying to take time out to rest, and to build space into my day for peace and reflection. Slowing down.

Well, I have been trying. There have been a few sweet rewards in this. I have had a couple of days where the craziness of my day would typically have engulfed me, but just having a few moments of quiet and focused prayer really did quiet my soul. It was definitely hard for me to retreat. With a long list of "To Do's", it felt counter-intuitive to step out of task mode and just be. But, more than anything, I have this feeling that this is going to be a long process for me. My typical nature is inclined towards being busy, and towards trying to multi-task because I want to accomplish so much. It felt a bit like interval training for me. Anyone ever do intervals while exercising? It is a process where you have a steady pace and then every so often, you kick it up a notch and move more quickly (with more intensity). It is supposed to accelerate how quickly you get into shape and give your workout an extra level of cardio and fat burning.

This is what it felt like for me, only in reverse. It felt like I was running fast, and then occasionally remembering to slow down. Then, I would start running again.

Another picture of how this felt was like a teenager learning to drive a car with a stick shift for the first time. Not smooth. Not fluid. Screech. Lurch. Jerk. Jerk. Lurch. Ow, my knee hit the dashboard. This is awkward. Okay, start the car, try again. Screech.

You get the picture.

Anyone else feel like this is going to be a long process?

One thing that encourages me to continue to cultivate this was watching the Oprah episode this past week about the mom who accidentally left her daughter in the car for her entire day at work. The shortened version of the story was that her husband usually dropped the kids at day care, but she needed to do it on this day. She was a Vice Principal of a middle school and it was the first day of school. A very busy day was looming. She went to drop her 2 year old off, but realized she was too early. Her baby was asleep in the car with her as she drove. She ran an errand (picked up donuts for her staff), and then got back on the road that she drives every day to work. She slipped into automatic mode and drove to work (forgetting that she still needed to drop sleeping baby off). Her mind was already 3 steps forward in her day. She got to work, headed inside and went about her day. She was sharing that even throughout her day she had a few conversations about her kids with co-workers, but never remembered that she had left her baby in the car.

I have absolutely NO JUDGEMENT for this mom! You can tell just from her interview that she is a loving mother, that she is a devoted mother. She was just busy. How tragic to realize at the end of your work day that your child has been baking in the car all day. Her baby was dead when she finally got out there (a co-worker spotted her in the car).

I have had moments of forgetting to snap my kids in their car seats. I know I could make this same mistake under the right pressure points. My heart breaks for this family.

But, I am reminded. There is always a cost to our busy-ness. We may not all experience something this costly, but there is a cost for each of us. We are a culture marked by a frantic, frazzled busy-ness. We move to music, we have gadgets in our hands or at our fingertips non-stop. I think sometimes we do not know what to do with ourselves, or our thoughts, in the absence of movement and motion and work. It will continue to be messy and a challenge, but I am in it for the long haul.

Giving Ourselves Permission

I was chatting with my dear friend, Bonnie, last night.  Bonnie is such a special gal in my life.  The kind of person that comes along in just the right season for many, many purposes.  She entered our life as a babysitter and has become a family member and sometimes a bit of a sage.  

Anyway, we were doing our standard post-babysitting chat session the other night and talking about motherhood and blogging and other random subjects.  Bonnie shared something that totally resonated with me.  She was talking about how she had popped in on a friend to return something (background info = this friend is a mom, and bonnie is in the pre-mom stage).  This friend was lying on the couch when Bonnie arrived, and quickly said, "Don't think I am a bad mom.  I am just tired."

Bonnie recanted the story and then said, "I don't understand why moms feel that way.  Who would ever think that someone is a bad mom for resting?"

I was nodding my head in agreement.  Yeah, who would think that?  How silly.   But, then I stopped to think about it....  I feel this same guilt all the time.   That is totally me!  I really struggle with giving myself time to rest, to be still, to unwind, to enjoy "me" time that is "unproductive".  Most moms I know feel the same way.  And, I am not sure why.  Maybe because we don't want to seem lazy.  Maybe because we know that our to do list is miles long and if we are taking time out to "rest" we are neglecting important things on our list.  

This is the other thing I know... that there are many days where I am so empty and running on mere vapors as I scurry about that I am of very little use to my family.  Sure, I am getting things done.  Sure, I am putting healthy and nutritious food on the table.  Sure, I am wiping bottoms and picking up toys so that no one breaks their neck while scurrying from hither to yon.  Sure, I am negotiating drama and flare ups over toys and "personal space".  But, am I full of joy?  Am I at peace in my soul?  Am I teaching my kids how to live life with fullness and thankfulness and appreciation for all that surrounds us?  

Am I rested?

I am many things, but rested is not one of them.  And, I don't just mean "rested" as in I had a really good night of sleep.  I mean the kind of rested where I have an abundance to give because I am filling my tank.  Like in the airplane crash when you need to first put on your own oxygen mask and then help others.  What good am I to those around me if I am suffocating because I am not taking the time to put on my own oxygen mask?

I want to work towards this.  I want to be more aware of those moments where my soul and mind are crying out for time with God or just some moments of inactivity.  I want to lean into those moments and soak it up like a child would cherish an ice cream cone, lick by messy lick.  

I want to taste those drips of rest and giggle with delight knowing that life is more than accomplishing much.  I want to give MYSELF permission to do this, because I know I am the one holding me back.

Anyone else struggle with this? Can we give ourselves a homework assignment {The Resting Challenge}, and over the next week try to integrate 15 minutes (at least) of our very own quiet time into our day. I would encourage those of us that blog to walk away from the computer in that time. Just go somewhere quiet. Be still. Sit. Daydream. Pray. Just be. Let's check back in with each other. I want to hear how this goes for you (what you did for those precious minutes, how it felt, if you felt guilty, if you felt thankful, etc.) I know it will be hard for me, so I am writing it here for accountability. I think that it would be pretty incredible if a generation of mamas chose to model peace and rest for their children.

(And, if someone asks you what you are doing ... Smile and say, "resting". No apologies needed.)

{A Blustery Sort of Fallish Day}

Sometimes I long for 4 seasons.  You know the ones James Taylor talks about when he says, "Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall.  All you have to do is call..."

We have seasons here.  But, they are really only marked by a slightly different change in temperature and holidays.  We don't have 4 distinct seasons.  Part of me is thankful and part of me wishes for changing leaves and flurries of snow.

But, I definitely appreciate the small taste of Fall we have gotten here in our new neighborhood.  There is this "common green" area.  The neighbors here call it "the greenbelt".  Drew and I call it "the shire".  We spend many afternoons out there with our little buddies, running, biking, climbing trees (we are mostly watching the buddies climb...that could be a bit awkward otherwise), having picnics under the very, very tall trees.

Just a few days ago we were making our way out to the shire.  Logan was razoring.  Callen and I were walking along, very far behind her because his little legs were moving slowly this day.  All of the sudden I heard a loud scream from Logan -

"Mama!  Oh Mama!  Run here, quickly!  You have to see this!"

I scooped Callen up and started to move more quickly because I was not quite sure if I should be excited or expecting some sort or peril.

It was exciting.  

As I rounded the corner with Callen in my arms, I saw Logan sprinting towards the hugest pile of leaves.  She was shouting, "Fall is here!  Fall is here!"

We frollicked and played in the massive leaf pile for a very long time.  (Total bonus that I do not have to rake these leaves!)

After dinner we returned with the camera and frollicked some more...

And then, there was this song about it...

And, once again, Callen at the end of the video is just too dang cute. Did you hear him sing, "I want to play that game."? He was looking at a board game sitting on the floor and that is what came out.

Oh, and yes, I do know that my hubby is amazing!  Check him out on itunes (drew bray).  He will make your day better.

Bring on the apple cider, Fall is Here!!!

Potty Mouth

There is a big potty mouth in my house.  It is my 2 year old son.  It is all quite innocent, actually.  He is just acquiring speech in an interesting way.  Here are some of the things he is saying that make me giggle like a 12 year old in Sex Ed class.  

[Well, I giggle when people aren't staring at me because my son is shouting obscenities.  When we are in public and he is shouting these words, I repeat the correct pronunciation back very loudly, and sometimes add in my own explanation of why he is saying this word.  But, I totally don't care what people think of me.  Not at all.]

• "peenus"  = "peanuts" 
  

Imagine your child shouting this as you pass the trail mix in Trader Joe's.  He did it again today - "peenus.  wook, mama, over dere.  wots and wots of peenus."

• "big wee-wee" = "big wheelie" 
  

This is a character from the TV show "Bigfoot" on TLC.  He is almost as obsessed with the characters on BigFoot as he is with the Cars characters.  Callen often shouts, "Papa -mumble mumble - big wee- wee..."  To which I reply, "Yes, Papa does like to watch Big Wheelie with you."  Drew thinks it is is really funny to say instead, "Yes, he does."  And then I say, "Child Protective Services."

• "adjective (big, fast, tall, etc.) *uck" = "big, fast, tall, etc.  truck"
  

On this one, I HAVE to respond, right?  So, I say, "Yes, Callen, I see the big truck."  Or, "I see the fast truck."  But, you know those times when you are in a mommy fog and your child is playing the "repeating game"?  You know the one.  Where they say the same thing over and over again until you repeat it back.  And, it gets louder and louder.

"Mama, I see a duck."

"Mama, I see a duck."

"Mama, I see a duck!"

"Oh yeah, I see the duck too."  

And then, silence is restored.  For two seconds.  

Then, it starts again -  "Mama, a red car!" ...

Well, one day this was happening and I repeated back what Callen said.  Only, I repeated back what he said, not what he was TRYING TO SAY.  

I replied, "Yes, Callen I see the fast *uck."  [still in a daze]

Then, Logan said, "Silly mommy, that is not a *uck, it is a TRuck."  

oops.

• "I'm horny now!" = "I'm hungry now!"

This one makes me laugh especially hard, because he says it with a true whining/longing in his voice.  And, he will just shout it from out of nowhere.  I can be in my room getting ready to go somewhere and i hear: 

"MAMA?!" (said with great urgency)

"yes, Callen," I call back.

"I'm horny now!"

"Okay, buddy."  (muffled laughter from me)

• **ssy = "Percy"  (you know Thomas' green friend who chug-chugs along the track.  I cannot even type out the "word" that Callen says without feeling like a potty mouth myself.)
  

I am giggling even now.

{and, yes, he does kiss his mother with that mouth}

Sisters

I stumbled into a blogging worm hole the other day. It is the most tragic and beautiful hole to tumble down. There is this beautiful blogging mother of 4 delicious children who has been keeping her own blog for a while called The NieNie Dialogues. It is almost as though you are reading an infomercial about motherhood and being a wife when you read it. She makes it look that good. Gratitude and grace seep out of her narrative. She adores her husband ( "Mr. Nielson" is what she calls him throughout her entire blog), the true man of her dreams and apparent soul mate. "Where is the tragedy?", you ask. This beautiful mother and her Mr. Nielson were in a plane crash in August and they are both in very, very serious condition. She has burns over 80% of her body. He has burns over 50% of his body.

80%?

I read through her entire blog last night. Because I know about her current condition, I could not help but weep through the entire thing. Here I am reading about this mother's love for her family and husband, and reading about how she delights in her children and family, knowing that she is separated from them, unable to care for them, and in an induced coma. What went through her head as the plane went down? Was she at peace or did she fight her way out to see her babies again? She is certainly fighting now. The photos of her show how incredibly beautiful she is. It pains me to think of her in her hospital room wrapped up like a mummy. But, the beauty that you read in her words, that is her beauty still. And, when I think of her children -- how are they processing being in the presence of this woman who has been their ever present source of love and nurture, and then suddenly not. What must it feel like for them to not only be without their parents, but also to have moved from their home in Arizona to Utah at the blink of an eye? Oh, how my thoughts and prayers are with this family.

But, her story is still being told. Her sister, Jane (who is such an amazing writer as well!), is now taking care of her children for her. Jane, who had one little baby in her brood, now has her sister's children and the way that she chronicles all that is going on is so, so beautiful. I love the way she talks about her sister. She wrote this:

I ended the day talking to Mom in Mesa while watching the steady rain fall underneath the street lamp from my front window. Mom is weary even though all is going as expected. Christian is healing well. Steph's progress is slow.

"Remember to be grateful for the Lord every day of your life." She said to me in a tired voice.

Just before I sat down to write I double checked all of my babies. I kissed each one and whispered a little secret in their ear. The Chief was sleeping mouth opened wide. I stood and watched him for awhile.

"It was a nice day." I whispered out loud in the quiet nursery.

"Indeed it was." I felt Steph reply back.

This hits me hard. I have a big sister that I adore. I cannot help but think about her as I read about this family. I don't want to ever, ever lose my sister. She has been my sister my whole life. Always there to pick me up, to help me with whatever I need help with. To listen to me cry. To encourage me in my life, marriage and parenting. She is the friend I have had longest in my life. We will still be skinny dipping on our last night of summer vacation when we are old and wrinkled and our boobs are hanging down to our belly buttons. We will be up all night, together, the night before our daughters' weddings, crafting away and tying ribbons, I am sure. We will be standing hand in hand someday when we say good bye to our parents. I cannot imagine a scenario in life without her nearby. I know that I would also run to scoop up her babies if anything happened to her. And, I know she would do the same for me.

So, this is my prayer: Please, God, keep my sister safe. Let us grow old together. And, hold this family in the palm of your hand. I pray for hope. For healing. And, for these 4 little children, that they would be covered by peace that surpasses all understanding. Would you rest Your hand upon their heads and comfort them in the absence of their parents? Would you whisper words of hope and joy in their ears and keep fear and insecurity far, far away from their hearts and minds? I know that these parents have worked hard to build a foundation of strength and hope in these precious souls. Redeem that work now, please. I pray for Jane, that you would give her strength as she cares for these precious souls.

Oh, how I ache for these sisters. Oh, how I ache for this family. Scroll down to see their beauty! And, please, please go to their blogs: Jane's & NieNie's. You will immediately want to go and wrap your children in the warmest hug humanly possible.

{You can donate to help out this family. (click on the Nie recovery button above) And, you can pray! Pray, mamas, pray. Pray, sisters, pray.}