Conversations on the Way Home from Home Depot

Malachi:  **sigh** I miss it store.
Allie:  You’ll be ok.  We just saw the store two minutes ago.
Malachi:  I sad.
Allie:  You’re sad?
Malachi: Yes. I sad. I miss it store.
Allie (who is driving):  Text Eri-
Siri:  Ok. To whom should I send the text?
Allie:  Erin, you idiot.
Malachi: Text Ice!
Siri: Which Erin?
Allie: Croteau.
Malachi: Daddy, I text.
Jeremy: You text, huh?  Should we get you a phone?
Malachi: Yes!
Siri: Sorry, I don’t understand Croteau. Which Erin?
Allie: CRO-TEAU!
Malachi: Mommy, where’s my phone?
Allie: You’re yellow phone’s at home, buddy.
Malachi: Sigh, I miss it.
Siri: Ok, here’s your text to Erin Crah-do. Ready to send it?

Allie: Quickly reads screen, realizes it says “You idiot.”  Laughing hysterically shows screen to Jeremy, “No!”
Malachi: Hahahahahaha!
Siri: Ok. Would you like to cancel, review, or change it?
Allie: Still laughing hysterically, “Change it!”
Malachi: Hahahaha! I funny! Mommy funny!
Siri: Ok, I’ll send it.
Allie:  Nooooo!!!!
Jeremy: I think maybe you should wait until we get home to finish that text.
Allie: quickly rattles off explanatory text to Erin.
Malachi: Mommy funny, Dada.
Jeremy: I wonder what that limo is doing there.
Allie: Probably parked there to eat before prom night.
Malachi: Mommy, my head ouchie.
Allie: I’m sorry, buddy. Did you bonk it?
Malachi: Yes.
Allie: I’m sorry buddy.  It’ll be ok.
Malachi: I put band-aid on it.
Allie: Ok, we’ll get one when we get home.
Jeremy: Do you rent limos by the hour or by the evening?
Allie: I don’t know, hon, I’ve never rented one.
Malachi: Ow.
Allie:
Malachi: Ow.
Allie:
Malachi: Ow. Ow. Ow.
Allie: You ok buddy?
Malachi: Oh! I put band-aid on it!
Jeremy: I wonder when the limo became a thing, anyway.  It’s just a really long car.  What’s the point of that?
Allie: I guess so a bunch of people can hang out.
Malachi: Mommy, that’s dark outside.
Allie: I know, buddy.  That’s because it’s night-night time.  It gets dark when it’s night-night time.
Malachi: I watch Caillou!
Allie: No buddy, Caillou’s all done.  When we get home it’s night-night time.
Malachi: sigh, I miss it.
Jeremy: If people want to hang out they should just get a minivan.
Allie: Oh my word. This whole conversation is going on my blog later so I don’t forget it.
Malachi: Oh!  There’s dark!
Allie:
Malachi: There’s dark!
Allie:
Malachi: There’s dark!
Allie: I heard you, buddy.  Can everybody just be quiet for two minutes?  I just need quiet for two minutes.
Jeremy:  turning into our cobblestone-street neighborhood  Malachi, say “Aaaahhhh!”
Allie:  Jeremy!  Why?
Jeremy:  At least it’s consistent.
Naomi:  Blah, blah, bluh, ma, da, blah

Step in to the Confessional

I’m pretty sure if I got Jeremy’s input he could suggest considerably more items to add to this list but in the meantime, enjoy.

1. Last night I ate salmon cakes and slaw for dinner. Jeremy and I went on a date later and ended up at Waffle House.  I then ate a waffle, an order of hash browns, and two slices of bacon. No, I’m not pregnant.
2. Sometimes when the kids are eating lunch and strapped into their chairs I go pee just so I can get a (literal) minute alone.
3. Usually I take my iPod because 30 seconds of sitting alone necessitates some kind of social media.
4. I’m not embarrassed that I just admitted any of that to you. #noshame
5. Malachi has been on stellar behavior today and by “stellar” I mean “absolutely horrible.”  In the past four hours I’ve sent these texts to Jeremy.****
   • I might lock our son in the dog crate.
   • Maybe I’ll just leave him at pre-school.
   • I swear I am going to drop him off at the pound.

   .        ****OF COURSE I was kidding! Unbunch those britches. 

6. As I was typing that Malachi climbed on top of me to cuddle and now I feel guilty.
7. I throw away old leftovers when Jeremy isn’t home (because) and then I cover them up with something big in the trash can so he won’t see it there later and ask me about it.
8. Malachi has grape juice all up in his hair and Naomi’s hair is spiked up on the side with banana mush and I’m still 99% sure they won’t be getting a bath until tomorrow, so I just wiped their heads off with a washcloth and called it good enough (it wasn’t).
9. Yesterday I was so tired that I decided to sit down and read my magazine “just for 20 minutes” but then I was too tired to get up but had too much to do to take a nap without feeling guilty so I just kept laying there….for an hour and a half.
10. Yesterday I played fetch with Naomi just so she’d stop throwing things in my lap for a couple minutes.
11. I usually mop my floors on Wednesday so they will be clean for small group but it’s been snowing every Tuesday here (seriously) for a couple months and I don’t mop when it’s wet outside because it’s pointless so it’s been a really, really long time since I mopped.
12. I still let the kids eat off the floor.

7 Quick Takes – I’m not sure why they don’t give me an award for the quality of my writing on Fridays.

Linking with Jen, because I’m sure she’s missed me, my sarcasm, and my riveting hair-care soliloquies.

1. One of the benefits of being a stay-at-home-mom is that as soon as your husband comes home you get to regale him with a 45-minute stream of super-detailed stories about your exciting day. Stories about closet organization, nap-time productivity, exactly how many people were in each check-out line at Kroger, how many coupons you used/left at home/got rejected by the checker, and how much better your hair is doing now that you switched conditioner. The other day I was excitedly telling the tale of my hair’s vast improvement since I switched to TreSemme Climate Protection and I was pleasantly surprised when Jeremy responded with, “Oh yeah, I saw that conditioner in the shower” instead of his usual, “Yeah… Wait what? Sorry….”
   Me: You were looking at my conditioner?
   Jeremy: Yeah, I was wondering what this weird global warming soap is all about.
   Me: Global warming soap?  You mean because it’s called climate protection?
   Jeremy: Yeah, I thought that was weird.
   Me: It’s called that because it protects your hair from the climate, not because it protects the climate from…your hair.
   Jeremy: Yeah, I figured that out after I looked at it.
   That was so much funnier when it happened than it seems now…. Ok.
   .
2. Malachi is improving his pronoun usage slowly but surely, although he still refers to himself as “Mal-chi” most of the time instead of the generic “I.”  Mal-chi do it!  Mal-chi want orange juice!  Mal-chi go paaaaaark!  He’s still a little unclear on the whole personal pronoun thing and frequently says “My” instead of “I.”  My do it!  My eat snack!  MY feed doggie!  Which always reminds me of this:
   
   …so me-sa maybe start calling him Jar Jar. How wude!
   .
3. I’ve always had really vivid, realistic dreams, especially when I am pregnant. But over the past couple years I’ve started dreaming in movie.  My dreams actually switch from one scene to the next, switch perspective, and have background music. Once I dreamed I was Amy in an episode of Big Bang Theory. Not only was the entire dream pretty funny but it also had laugh tracks in the background.  I’m a little concerned for my sanity at this point.
   .
4. Jeremy and I finally watched Frozen last night and of course I loved it, just like the rest of the world.  (Unrelated spoiler alert: Why didn’t the troll just tell them the secret in the first place? Would that not have saved 15 or so years of familial heartbreak and malfunction and potential future therapy costs?  Anyway.)
   .
   Have you seen the guy that sang a cover of “Let it Go” in all these different Disney voices?
   
   The part with Scuttle absolutely cracked me up because I used to do that. Malachi was pretty freaked out by the whole thing until we got to Winnie the Pooh. Then he looked at the little picture and said, “Hi Innie Poo! Is so cute!”
   .
5. Have you heard of Listia?  It’s like E-bay, but free. It’s mostly a colossal waste of time, but I am 600 Pampers Rewards Points away from getting Malachi a free Cozy Coupe and I can usually muster up enough Listia credits to win some Pampers points auctions and you don’t care. Anyway, I listed an auction mostly for the bonus points but the woman who won had a problem and so an e-mail conversation ensued. Basically I would write her a thorough, polite, grammatically correct e-mail offering several solutions plus an apology and she would respond with something along the lines of:
   “yeah it didnt work”
   I mean, seriously. Can you not throw in a “Thank you” or at least some gratuitous punctuation? Does this kind of thing bother anyone else? Answer: yes. (Language alert, FYI).
   Also, if you want to join Listia, please use my link – I will be forever grateful.  https://www.listia.com/signup/5477022
   .
6. It snowed again last week and Malachi’s make-up day was cancelled, so now we are having a make-up make-up day and of course they are calling for snow next Tuesday as well. I was “re-re-re-re ‘cited” about his first-ever school pictures but they aren’t offering a snow date for that so I’m just gonna save myself from the agony of dashed hopes and just operate on the assumption that those will get canceled as well.  But maybe I’ll try and do some cute portraits on my own because, you know, my track record is THE BOMB.
   .
7. The other day I went into the farmer’s market by myself and got a little confused and overexcited by the free samples at the cheese shop.  I ended up spending 20 dollars on cheese because it was so tasty when taken out of context and seasoned with “I’m here alone and I need to reign myself in!” Then when my sister and I pulled it out to eat together it honestly smelled like a hot, sizzling cow patty and tasted about the same.  I decided to return it because, seriously.  When I took it back the manager said, “This is how this cheese smells and tastes.  Did you not see on the wrapper?  It’s called ‘Barnyard Smell.’ I’ll refund it but if you don’t like it, don’t ever buy it.”  So I guess she was right and I am grateful she refunded my money even though she treated me like a 2-year-old the whole time and wouldn’t let me finish a sentence. But for real? They made it smell like cow poop on purpose?  WHY?!
   Bon appetit.

My best friend on my hip

When I was little there was a short span of time when the majority of my life was just my mom and me. I don’t have a lot of specific memories of that time, but I remember feeling happy and content. From the time I was very young until this very day I have considered my mom my best friend – truly my best friend in every sense of the word.

I always wanted boys growing up – lots of boys. I think boys are easier, I play better with boys, I relate better to boys, their clothes are cuter, I had a lot of practice with my brothers, and I saw myself in Jo March. But despite all this little-boy-loving, I knew I wanted at least one girl, so we could be best friends.

I knew Naomi was a girl from the moment I found out I was pregnant, and before the ultrasound tech confirmed it I had already seen it on the screen. My pregnancy, like every pregnancy, was both painstakingly slow and surprisingly fast. Her due date was February 22 and on the 20th at 7:00 p.m. I started having very regular, mild, painless contractions and I went to bed early just in case. I woke up 10 hours later feeling immediate disappointment followed by an immediate painless contraction followed by immediate excitement. I sent my husband to work, straightened the house, spent extra time with Malachi, downloaded a contraction-tracking app, put my son down for a nap, mopped the floors, did some yoga, called the nurse to find out if I needed to go to the hospital for painless contractions that were only 2 minutes apart, felt like an idiot when I showed up wondering if I was in labor to find out I was 6 cm. dilated, and 2 hours later there was the most precious, most sweet baby girl you’ve ever seen.

I was in shock at both how fast and how easy my labor was – and then I was in shock at how fast and how easy my second child was. Having a second child is so different from the first. Nursing came quickly and naturally. I recognized her different cries the first time I heard them. I watched a movie while still in the hospital with her because I didn’t have any problems and didn’t need the nurses. I laughed – laughed – when we drove away from the hospital with both our children crying buckets.

I also put her in the swing a lot, instead of carrying her around constantly. I had another child to tend to. I let her sleep in her crib instead of my arms so that I could play with her (very distraught) brother. I cuddled her and sang to her but we didn’t read as many stories or take as many pictures. I lived each moment because each was so precious and so fast – but I didn’t document as many of them. I was very content in this. Whereas Malachi’s first year felt like a series of highest highs and lowest lows, Naomi’s first year was steady, happy, and calm. Part of me hadn’t realized how very difficult it would be to get alone time with my new baby. She was happy, observant, cuddly, and sleepy. She was easy. I loved every minute with her, but those minutes flew by.

Now there are times I’d like to play or read or go somewhere just the two of us, but it’s not always possible. Naomi doesn’t care – she sits on my hip and watches what I do. Follows her brother around from her perch in the Ergo on my chest. Follows me around clapping and bouncing from room to room. She’d rather play with my kitchen tools than toys, nap than go to story-time, and sit on my lap and look at iPod photos than read a book. She loves time with just Mommy but given the choice she almost always follows Malachi anyway. She tends to tag along with me on errands and follow me while I do grown-up things. It would be nice to have more “baby” time with her. But then I remembered that the friendship I developed with my mom was built on grocery-store trips, dinner prep, and me following her everywhere no matter how mundane it was. I would rather have helped her clean the bathroom than watch TV without her. We talk nonstop and have 4 conversations at once. We yell at each other and laugh 15 seconds later. We take one car when it’s inconvenient just so we can ride together.

Naomi loves to go with me to the grocery store. She follows me when I’m cleaning the house. She jabbers all the time and I jabber right back. We get on each others nerves and I think it’s hilarious. And even though I sometimes feel guilty when I throw her on my hip and bring her with me to the kitchen instead of going to her room with her to play, she always settles contentedly and smiles at me and I realize – this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Happy (belated) first birthday to my sweet baby doll. I love how adaptable and content you are. I love your silly giggle. I love how you scrunch up your nose and whine when you aren’t happy. I love the way you bounce up and down when Noddy comes on TV. I love your rolly-polly belly that pops out of your ever-creeping shirts. I love that you are still nursing. I love the way you say “Nigh-nigh” when you are tired. I love your head of hair. I love when you give me hugs. I love how you rush to the door when Daddy comes home. I love how you think it’s funny to suck on my finger. I love how you adore your brother. I love the way you sometimes yell for no reason. I love that you smile so big every time you sneeze. I love how you fake cough to get attention. I love the way you sleep. I love how tough you are. I love that you are a dare-devil. I love how much you eat. I love the way you grin when you put on hats. I just love you. And I always will.

Happy birthday.

 

Snow and Other S-Words

You can fill in the blanks on your own if you want, but snow and I have a hate-hate relationship. An inanimate substance can’t hate me, you say? Allow me to prove you wrong:

1. Several years ago I wanted to have a cookie exchange party. I invited everyone. I designed my own invitations. I spent hours making earrings as party favors and put them in to hand-decorated bags that I also spent hours on. I made the dough. I laid everything out the night before. Then it snowed – a lot – and I had to reschedule.
2. So I did. And on the rain date? 10 more inches. And yes, I cried like a disappointed toddler. I begrudgingly handed out the favors in person to everyone who had RSVPed and it took me two years before I finally had one again. Guess how many people came to that party? Eight. And I love them all (in case you are reading this) but guess how many of them actually brought cookie dough? Four.
3. We have taken Malachi to the Christmas parade two years in a row. It’s one of our favorite Christmas traditions – we walk down the trail from our house, get hot chocolate on the way, and get back in time for bed. This year it snowed and they cancelled it.
4. I started tutoring from my home this year to bring in a little extra cash. Out of 5 scheduled sessions we’ve had one so far.
5. Since the start of the year Malachi should have gone to pre-school 12 times. He was sick two of those times. He went three times. Snow (or the threat thereof) cancelled SEVEN OTHER PRESCHOOL DAYS.
6. Jeremy and I kindly found a babysitter for Thursday night so that we didn’t ask any of our friends to babysit on Valentine’s day. We made a reservation for one of the nicest, most expensive restaurants in town that I have been wanting to try for 5 or 6 YEARS. By Thursday morning we had 10 inches of snow and the restaurant was closed.
7. Last week we had to reschedule my husband’s 30th birthday party because we all got sick. We rescheduled it to tomorrow. We cancelled today because of the snow.
8. Our Valentine’s day gift from my MIL still isn’t here (I’m reaching, I know.)

I am the queen of the badittude, I realize, and I know I should be grateful that we have power and that they plowed our road and that we have heat and all that jazz and believe me, I am, but you better believe that I have been OBSESSED with planning our Myrtle Beach vacation all day even though we are something like 7 months out. And I’m a little bit smug that even though Malachi enjoyed making a snowman and playing in the snow for about 15 minutes yesterday, he is tapped out and asking me when we can go “swim watuh beach?” every day. Today he said, “I don’t wike it cold snow yucky” and I almost cheered but I held myself back with the sheer force of my bad mood.

Plus sides of being snowed in:

1. Jeremy got two days off work.
2. I keep forgetting it’s only Friday.
3. I keep rolling over the same lesson plans so I can procrastinate planning ahead for yet another week.
4. This:

Anger and compassion may be two sides of the same coin.

It’s so easy to call these people monsters. I’ve done it, I’ve felt it, and I’ve fought it to no avail. Developing compassion for abortive mothers took me a long time, and then I had to do it all over again when I became a mother. But I can understand – I can understand the desperation and the hopelessness and even the ignorance that could lead to that choice. I can’t understand the blatant selfishness, but I want to believe that’s not as common as it probably is. I have no sympathy for the “doctors” who took the vow to do no harm and who murder helpless innocents every day in the name of choice and personal autonomy. Who chooses that job? I mean, even if you believe with all your heart that the death penalty is justifiable, who would volunteer to pull the trigger? All day? Every day? If you believed with all your heart that you needed to bomb a building to end a war, but you knew there were civilians inside, who jumps at that opportunity, necessary though it may be? So even if you ideologically believe that abortion is not only justifiable, but right, who wants that job? Maybe they don’t want it. Maybe they’re stuck. But still, who can do that day in and day out? How can you live with that dichotomy?

If you watched this video, you probably remember the part where the abortionist, who is graphically and untruthfully describing the development of a 24-week old fetus, tells the mother “I don’t want you to torture yourself.” I don’t even know how to process that statement. Don’t torture yourself over your decision to end the life of this child who, yes, has organs and a face. Or, don’t torture yourself with a baby – torture the baby instead. Or maybe, in a very twisted way, this woman actually had compassion for the mother. She really wanted her to live a life free of guilt. She really didn’t want her to suffer. Maybe there is something I can relate to in that. Maybe if I had lived a different life, grown up in different circumstances, maybe I would be in her shoes.

Yes, she is a monster. It takes a monster to kill babies every day. It takes a monster to kill a child while her own child kicks inside of her. It takes a monster to look at a person and say, “You do not have enough value to live.” It takes a monster to look at a person and say, “My life is worth more than yours.” It takes a monster to call someone else a monster from a seat of superiority. It takes a monster to look at someone and say, “I don’t know how God’s grace could possibly cover you.”  

I am a monster. You are a monster. She is a monster. And truthfully, the word monster just means “human.” But Christ died for all of us. He put on flesh to set us free. And His grace is sufficient for all our sin. Praise God that he didn’t leave me in the mud and blood I was wallowing in when He found me. Praise God that he can pull any monster out of any mire and that He loves us enough to reach down and lift our faces towards Him. Praise God that the same Father who rocks the murdered babies of millions of mothers is waiting with open arms for those mothers and their doctors to come home.

You can always come home.

Seriously Gross Post Alert

Last Saturday we started getting sick, cancelled on our friends so we didn’t share the love, and decided to take the kids for a walk instead because it was beautiful. And my wonderful hooz-bond spontaneously suggested we go out to eat to which I said a resounding “yahoooo!” because going out to eat is my true love language and apparently I don’t care about protecting strangers from the germs of my raspberry-blowing, table-licking cherubs, just our friends. It was a great day.

And next came church and fun at the grandparents’ and then a Seahawks win so Sunday was pretty bangin’ as well. Until it banged us into the floor. I went to bed with a slight sore throat that I attributed to tiredness and woke up feeling like I’d been hit by a mucous-truck which then backed back over me and dumped a load of fever on me before running over me again and I promise I’ll just leave that metaphor right there and not return to it.  Sorry.

I used to say that when I was sick and congested it felt like someone sprayed up my nose with spray insulation and it expanded until I just couldn’t take it anymore. This round of winter nasty I seem to have mostly skipped the congestion thing (hooray!) but instead me and the kids are all just oozing, swampy fountains of SNOT. So. much. snot. Snot in the baby food. Snot on my sleeve (not mine). Snot on the pillows. Snot in the pacifier.

Today was the first time the kids and I left the house in six days (unless you count the oh-so-fun 1.5 hour jaunt [with both kids cuz we stupid] to our rental house to mop out the dog-stench with cold water and no electricity) and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Malachi so excited to go to the “bibwary” and then to the pound to see the kitties, but not the doggies because “I don’t wike it too woud!” And after some seriously good naps and some seriously good straightening of the cesspool, Naomi was happy from wake-up to bed-time and that hasn’t happened since…..her birth, maybe? We even watched a movie I like and I finished crocheting a hat that might help me bring in some bacon bits so it was actually a good day. I can’t stop hacking my lungs up and Naomi is still covered in a film of green but otherwise things are looking up. Malachi *might* (knockonwoodsayaprayercursethesnow) even get to go back to pre-school this week for the third time out of 9-freaking-days he could have gone (not bitter! maybealittle) so hip hip hooray!

Please come back. I promise never to be that disgusting again.

Also, do you enjoy following annoying moms who only post pictures of their kids on instagram with only the rare artistic failure thrown in?  Hit me up.

7 Quick Takes

Linking with the fabulous Jen for the first time in a looooooonnnggg time….

1. Have you seen this article about making the bed?  As we all know, I’m not so good about it but it really does make me feel so much better when I do. Malachi likes to hand me the pillows to help so I really don’t have an excuse anymore. Malachi’s bed is a mess of huge blankets and too small blankets and too many loveys and stuffed animals and most of the time we just sort of throw him in and do our best to toss a blanket on top, but yesterday I was getting the kids’ room cleaned up and I decided to make his bed. I tucked the blankets in the bottom and stacked the pillows up nice. When he came in the room, he looked at the bed, gasped, and said “Oh! Comfy!” and immediately laid down on it. Iit was amusing and I felt a little guilty but mostly I feel like I just won in the “making the bed does/doesn’t matter debate” that Jeremy and I engage in occasionally.
   .
2. During the Christmas season Jeremy and I watched the live Carrie Underwood Sound of Awful and then to cleanse our minds we later watched the real deal. I am constantly astonished at the things Jeremy wasn’t ever exposed to as a kid (like Peter Pan) and the Sound of Music is one of them. It made a real cultural impression on him:
   .
   J: Isn’t she a nun, though?
   A: Yeah, she’s a postulate.
   J: Then why isn’t she wearing a sari?
   .
   A: …J: Is that girl’s name Fajita?
   A: (dying laughing)
   J: Well, what is it?
   A: Brigitta!
   .
   J: Is she wearing drapes again?
   .
   When Captain Von Trapp realizes he is in love with Maria…
   J: He only wants her for her sari.
   .
3. This article was really good. It made me reconsider how many things I put on Facebook and instagram every day and why.
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4. Yesterday I sat down to eat a blessedly uninterrupted lunch at the appropriate hour of 2 in the afternoon while the kids were asleep.  I started flipping channels and landed on Twilight: New Moon and immediately stayed there to watch it, even though it’s horrible.  Like…horrible.  But I love it and I loved the books.  As I was watching I realized that this channel was specifically airing it at the time that stay-at-home-moms watch TV.  So basically I was watching today’s version of a soap opera. While eating a mature lunch of Oreos with peanut butter and goldfish crackers.  Yes, I’m 12.  And pathetic.
   
   .
5. I’m pretty proud of myself because I made this. It was my first time ever making a hat and it somehow grew its own inexplicable brim but hey – it’s cute. I might start trying to make and sell them. Do you think there’d be a market for them?
   .
6. Conversations with Malachi:
   .
   Every day until recently…
   Me: What do you want for breakfast?
   Him: Kiwi appo ceweal lunch

   Every day now….
   Me: What do you want for breakfast?
   Him: Appo and owange and kiwi and bapes and backbewwies and boobewwies and cheerios and Daddy ceweal and cheese aaaand meat. And vi-a-mins and po-botics.
   Me: Ok. Do you want banana or orange or apple today?
   Him: Anna owange appo both!

   Every time he sees a bug anywhere…
   Him: Uh-oh Mommy!  Ant!  Buzzzzz!  I don’t wike it ant.  Ant go swimmin potty.
   Me: Ok, let’s put the ant in the potty so he can go swimming.
   Him: Bye bye ant! Ha fun swimmin!  Mal-chi go swimmin tooooo?
   Me: Not in the potty.
   .

7. I’m so tired today I fell asleep once while Malachi was going potty and again during the kids’ naps and I’m about to fall asleep again now so to save you from any further boring as anything incoherence, I present, for your viewing pleasure, this.

A Secret

Last Fall I went through Beth Moore’s Bible study on secrets. The entire summary of it is this: Secrets manifest. They always do, in one way or another. Bad secrets that are never told in words are exposed in the lines on our faces, the way we treat others, the dreams we live at night, anxiety, eating disorders, anger. But there are good secrets, too. Things we keep to ourselves so that God can get the glory later.

Sometimes we confess something before the Lord privately, but we never talk about it. We carry the guilt as a secret – even though we think we’ve dealt with it, we can’t even whisper the words of it out loud.

That’s what happened to me a few months ago. It was time to go and we were late – really late. And I was tired – really tired. Malachi had been at his worst and today was no different. No matter what I told him he did the opposite. I pulled out his brown sneakers and he insisted on the white ones. I asked him to walk to the door and he had to stop in his room to get things. And then we walked to the front door and I saw it – the pile of toys I’d bought on sale for Christmas that I had accidentally left on the couch. Well of course he rushed over and absolutely ignored my every call for him to come to the door. Finally I lost it. I got angry – really, really angry. I was stressed and late and none of that was his fault, but I took it out on him. He burst into tears, upset and scared, and immediately my stomach dropped and I realized how awful the whole thing was. And for whatever reason, even after I apologized to him and prayer journaled about it, I carried that guilt for weeks. I could not get over it.

So I told my husband, thinking maybe that would help. And he understood my guilt and did not condemn. He told me he thought Malachi didn’t even remember. But it didn’t help.

I told myself I was making a bigger deal out of it than it was. I told myself that Malachi had forgiven me and I needed to forgive myself, too. I ignored the guilt that wouldn’t go away.

Then I remembered something we’d talked about in the Bible study – the power of spoken-aloud prayer. I am an avid prayer-journaler and rarely pray aloud for that reason, but one day I was in the shower and I just couldn’t take it anymore. No one was around and I just poured out my heart to God. I told Him about my guilt, about how confused I was over it. I told Him how I just couldn’t get over it and begged that He would help. I just verbally gave it over.

I did feel lighter but still not great when I sat down to do my Bible study homework that day. We were supposed to read a passage from Hebrews and as I picked up my iPod to use my Bible app, the Lord whispered, “Use your regular Bible.” I’m reading through the amplified Bible right now, and to be honest, I find it more exhausting than encouraging most of the time. So I wasn’t too excited, but I did it anyways. And this is what I read:

For we do not have a High Priest Who is unable to understand and sympathize and have a shared feeling with our weaknesses and infirmities and liability to the assaults of temptation, but One Who has been tempted in every respect as we are, yet without sinning.
Let us then fearlessly and confidently and boldly draw near to the throne of grace (the throne of God’s unmerited favor to us sinners), that we may receive mercy [for our failures] and find grace to help in good time for every need [appropriate help and well-timed help, coming just when we need it].
Hebrews 4:15-16, AMP

Tears streamed down my face. Mercy for our failures. Mercy for our failures. This was what God was trying to tell me – Yes, you did fail. But I have mercy for you. I have forgiven you. His grace isn’t just sufficient for my imperfections – He has abundant mercy even in my failure.

When I closed my Bible study book I moved on to my daily Bible reading, which passage happened to be my favorite story in all the Bible – John 21. When Peter – crazy, overzealous, relate-able, wonderful Peter – sees the Lord on the beach. He hasn’t spoken to him since before His death, and their last interaction was the knowing look Christ gave Peter right after he denied Him. Can you imagine the utter guilt Peter was feeling? So instead of helping the disciples paddle quickly to shore, Peter puts on his coat and jumps in the water, swimming for all he’s worth to reach the sand. Later, when they were walking, Christ asked him,

“Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these do?” He replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Jesus told him, “Feed my lambs.”  Jesus said a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He replied, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Jesus told him, “Shepherd my sheep.”  Jesus said a third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was distressed that Jesus asked him a third time, “Do you love me?” and said, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.” Jesus replied, “Feed my sheep.”

And in that moment, after I had spoken my ugly secret into the open and laid it before the Lord in our beautiful secret place, He whispered to me, “Your children are my sheep. Shepherd them.”

God had walked me through the restoration process, and there, sitting on my bed, crying tears of joy and resting in the arms of my Father, for the first time in weeks, I was free.

He has mercy for your failures. Trust Him.

7 Quick Takes about 2013

I wish I could come up with one word to describe 2013, but I’m not sure what to choose.  Maybe it would be “fast” – my memories of Christmas 2012 are crystal clear because it seems like just yesterday. My memories of newborn Naomi are already fuzzy because that is what it’s like to have a baby. Any stage other than their current one seems so far removed you sometimes wonder if it even happened to you.  I watch videos of Malachi from 8, 9, 10 months ago and it’s hard to believe this little boy was ever that little boy.  Maybe I would choose “hard” – because focusing all my attention on one child at a time gives me a twinge of guilt almost every time, no matter which kid. Because on the day I think I’ve never been more exhausted, that night I lay awake with a squirming baby and realize that now I have. Because consistently spending time with the Lord has never been so difficult for me. Because anytime I make progress in one area of life I fall behind in another.  But maybe I would choose “joy” – because there has never been a happier, more smiley, more laid-back baby than Naomi.  Because my son has finally broken past the barrier and can speak clearly and efficiently and is so much happier for it.  Because my endless stream of photos and videos attests to the beautiful memories we have made this year.  Maybe I’ll just choose all three.

And if I were to pick a word (ok, two words) for this coming year, I will declare them over my home and my family and myself and prophetically choose “peace” and “love.” Not because I’m some kind of hippie, but because if there’s anything this house needs, it’s a little more peace so the abundant love we already have for the Lord and for one another can be a little more obvious, a little more dominant, and a little more in-control.

Thanks for sticking through the sappiest and most flowery introduction to date.  Onto the cooler stuff: 7 quick takes about 2013.

1. January – We discovered the neighborhood farm, Malachi learned to sit at the big table and give real hugs, and he experienced his first snow.
   
2. February – One night I went to bed early because I thought I was having regular, painless contractions.  The next morning when I woke up they continued but at the same frequency and pain(less)-level.  So Jeremy went to work, Malachi and I played, I bought an app called “labor mate,” made myself cry when I put Malachi down for his nap because intuitively I knew this was the last time it would ever be just me and him (crying again, btw), mopped the kitchen floor, did some yoga, finally decided to go to the hospital, found out I was SIX CENTIMETERS PEOPLE, and three very-natural hours later, sweet baby Naomi Kate was born to change our lives forever.
   Malachi was overjoyed.
   Eventually he got used to her and even learned to share.
   
3. March and April – March included a lot of sweet moments, like this:
   
   According to a quick skim of my daily kid log, I went to Goodwill at least 3 times with both kids in April. We also really settled into being a family of four. I remember feeling really content with just “being” with my kids. I wasn’t super stressed about things with Naomi (she slept through the night for two months starting in April) and Malachi was doing really well with her, too. Also, I started my blog in April.
4. May, June, and July – In May my baby boy turned two. Naomi rolled over, laughed, and settled into a great schedule.  In June we went to Seattle.  Re-reading some of my highlights of July makes me remember how much I LOVE summer and how much happier we all are when it is sunshiney outside. We did so much partying, playing outside, swimming, and fun stuff in July. Malachi started making developmental strides (colors, numbers) and we visited his pre-school for the first time. We also hosted two Brazilian girls for a long weekend and I got really, really secondhomesick.
5. August and September – In August I started harvesting things from my first-ever garden. It was encouraging and discouraging all at the same time, but I’ll definitely do it again (just way differently).  August was also a little hard – Naomi had major sleep problems and Malachi started hitting her. Having two young kids started to get a lot harder than it had been before. In September we visited my best friend and her family, Malachi started preschool, Naomi started eating insane amounts of food (this trend continues), and we went to several festivals.
   
6. October and November – In October we went camping, Malachi potty-trained, Malachi and I had a very intense supernatural experience with the Lord, and Naomi started standing on her own.  In November I began my ongoing trend of slacking off on blogging. Malachi made huge strides in his speech. We enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgivng.
7. December – I love the Christmas season! We had so much fun family time this month. The kids LOVED Christmas, baby Jesus, Santa, and presents. Naomi took her first steps. Malachi became obsessed with the guitar. Malachi was the cutest Christmas angel ever.
   

Happy New Year!  Now go see Jen for much bigger and better.
**Ummmm, also…. I just reread this and realized I only talked about my kids. Wow. I guess that’s what I get for using my daily kid log to remind me of the year….  if you wanted any news about me and Jeremy, sorry to disappoint!  Better luck next year when I’m not too tired to go back and edit.