You don't have to do the laundry

Someone is cooking your meals 

There are no dirty dishes in your sink

No fighting crowds at the grocery store after work

You don't have to vacuum

You don't have to get gas in twenty degree weather or rain

Someone else is cleaning your toilet (at least we hope so) (and we hope it is not the same person who is cooking your meals)

Taking out the trash is someone else's job

You can read (my blog) anytime you want

An artillery of prayers advance on your behalf daily

This post is in honor of my mom's friend Jan.  She has been through a lot during her life.  On top of all that she has experienced, she is now fighting for her life.  She and her family are in need of a lot of prayers.  And a liver would be very helpful. If you are a pray-er, I know they would appreciate your supplication.  

Check out all the sweet heart photos, the sweetheart photos, and likely some funny ones too!

I was not patient, nor was I overly anxious to be involved in the affairs of my children.  I just wanted them to entertain themselves.  I felt guilty for it, too, as I've been thinking frequently of a verse shared by Lorrie the other day about working willingly for the Lord, whatever you do.  As a mom and housewife, I have to remind myself that the things I do around here, and the things I'm responsible for at home, matter...and I ought to do them as though I were doing them for the Lord.  Acts of service unto Him.  

Most of the time, that is not my attitude.  I often dread my housework.  It's not even that hard, what I have to do; I think the thing that gets me is that it's the same things over and over and over.  And not just the same kinds of things, but literally the same things:  the same toys spread out, the same dishes piled in the sink, the same underwear here, there, and everywhere.  It's the same unmade beds, the same chairs pulled out and left in the way (that one's my doing), the same shoes by the front door.  

Eliana got a little boo boo tonight.  Almost immediately, my attitude shifted.  The truth is, if something happened to one of my kids I would be devastated.  I know things happen in families, and they manage to get through it, through each day until years go by, and they keep living.  So, I hope that I could do that too.  But suddenly I was aware again of how much I love Eliana; not that I forget, but sometimes it gets lost in all the disaster in my mind.  When it surfaces so abruptly, so fiercely, I almost don't know what to do with myself.  

Truthfully, I've done a lot of things wrong when it comes to my kids.  But somehow they still want to claim me.  Tonight Michaela told me that she liked me.  I told her that was just one of the many great miracles that I experienced every day.  She laughed and said,"What?!  I love you!"  Recently Christian said out loud, to no one in particular,"Why does Mom work so hard all the time?!"  I laughed.  It was sweet.  I don't work nearly as hard as I should.  Here is a little reminder to myself that tomorrow is another day to work, willingly.  Maybe even cheerfully!

I won't lie.  This morning I slept in a bit.  The kids know how to operate our TV/DVR/sound system much better than I do, so shortly after they were all awake (and after permission was granted), they were snuggled up on our sofa under all manner of blankets and snuggies (it was cold here today!) taking turns choosing shows from the acceptable list.  It thrills me to no end that my two big kids are still little enough (or sweet enough) to watch what Eliana chooses.  Sometimes they even like it.  

I got up when I woke up after a STRANGE dream and I thought to myself,"I could get up right now and go for a walk."

Did you just fall out of your chair?  Because I almost did, and I'm the one who had the thought.  I checked on the kids, went to the bathroom, and lay back down.  It was so cold!  I just wanted to curl up and go back to sleep.  But the funny thing is, I knew it would be hard.  And that I would feel worse if I did that.

It's like I don't even know myself anymore.

I hemmed and hawed around the house for a little longer, but eventually went and told Mike that I was going to go for a walk.  I said,"Note that I don't want to."  He noted the fact.

I went for my walk.  Did I mention that it was cold?  It was.  But I kept on down the sidewalk, in spite of the squirrel's tail that I saw (yes, minus the body) and all the dog poo in the yard of the house on the corner (I mean, I know I'm not stepping in it, but that?  Is gross.)...I went up hills and across streets and hither and yon and back home (past the squirrel tail again...*shudder*).  

I even made eggs for a late breakfast.  That was a pretty good Saturday morning, I think.

The day progressed nicely enough.  The kids played a game that involved marbles, Cream Soda bottles, colored water, and questions from the class that Michaela and Eliana are participating in on Thursdays.  For every right answer, a marble goes in the appropriately colored bottle; the goal is to get the water to spill over the top. They think this is terrific fun.  (And it is, aside from the three marbles that got in our garbage disposal when Christian helpfully emptied the marbles from the bottles...parental supervision fail.)  Later in the afternoon, Christian asked to play on the Wii, and I told him he could.

Things were fine, of course, until they weren't.  Eventually they were fighting.  Or fussing.  I don't know if they were really just feeling restless from being inside all day or what, but the Wii was turned off, Michaela flew to her room and there may have been a firm shutting of the door, and I honestly don't know where Christian and Eliana went.  (Nice!  Parental supervision fail #2!)

I have a confession.  At this point in the day, after all of my behaving this week (in the soda department, not in the Bloomin' Onion department...in the Bloomin' Onion department there was a great deal of naughtiness on Friday evening), I rebelliously and quite determinedly pulled a Pepsi out of the fridge and poured it over a very large cup of ice.  I don't know why I did it, except that all of a sudden I felt angry and sad and out of control. And there I was, proving that I was, indeed, out of control.  

I didn't drink it all.  I couldn't even.  And I decided that once I got Eliana to sleep, I would either ride the bike or try out the Wii Fit.

I went with the Wii.  Mike helped me get it set up, and then I entered all the info it asked for.  Here is the skinny...according to certain calculations, I am 48.  My weight + my height + my birthday + my balance score = 48 Wii Fit years.  Well.  I guess I have work to do, because I'm actually only 37.  

Here are some thoughts regarding this game.  It isn't very nice.  For some folks, this could be a problem.  It's a good thing I have a top-notch sense of humor!  The little animated Wii Fit Balance Board that is communicating with the player (exerciser?  Yes, I like that) is quite blunt and not very diplomatic.  It made me laugh tonight, but on a different day, it might very well make me cry.  My favorite part was while I was running, though.  A grandpa (looking very much like my dad, actually) swiftly passed me by.  I wasn't too sure about the accuracy of the device concerning my pace and percentage (something to do with calculating calories burned), but hopefully that will be something that works out as I move forward or upward or whatever in levels.  I did like the personal trainer.  She was extremely encouraging!  I did everything well!  I was labeled a Yoga Master!  

Again, I am dubious about the accuracy of the Wii.  Yet, it is nice to master a skill so early in the game.  I will take it.

Clearly there are demons lurking...what a battle.  It wages on.  I raise my fist!  I stamp my foot.  Yoga will not be all that I master...

My initial hunch was correct. I think. Actually, at this point I can't even remember what I thought I ought to write.

I can tell this is going to be a good one. You're probably wondering,"Is she making an effort at a blog post? She should try again. Tomorrow."

Here is the back story for the actual post...I used to be quite thin. I thought for a long time,"Things will not change! This is the way I will look forever!" Then I started drinking a lot of soda, and eating a lot of sweet things (I also call this self-medicating with sugar) and my body decided to show me that, actually? Things will change! That thin self is not the way I will look forever! At least when you take in so many liquid calories (of sugar) in a day that it is like having an extra meal. On top of the three meals and several (unhealthy) snacks that you have already.

What I'm saying is I've been a very bad girl. And now I'm paying for it.

Most people would look at me and say,"What are you talking about?! You look fine!" And that may be true. But! I know my own body, and I recognize the changes that have occured. They are significant enough that I am uncomfortable a lot of the time (and not just "in my own skin"...really uncomfortable), and sometimes the extra weight hurts (particularly in my belly).

On Tuesday I took the kids to the symphony. We were supposed to dress up. I don't have a lot of nice clothes that fit anymore. I put on a skirt that I wore several years ago (five, maybe), which sat on my hip bones when I bought it. This is how I wore most of my pants and skirts...below my bellybutton. This past week that skirt that I used to wear down on my hips? In order to zip it, the waist of the skirt was a good two and a half inches ABOVE my bellybutton. I wore my coat the entire time we were out in order to hide the giant puff just above my behind where the skirt wasn't falling in the right place, because, well, it WASN'T IN THE RIGHT PLACE!

I got on the exercise bike that night. And I haven't had soda since then (oops, that's not totally true...I split a cream soda from Whole Foods with Michaela, but I didn't finish my portion and it didn't have high fructose corn syrup, so...a little better?) and I walked yesterday after I took Christian to school.

Now. I may not ever be as small as I was five years ago. And I know I have to be okay with that. But I really do need to get healthy. The gaining weight thing is a slippery slope, and I can see that. It might start with ten pounds, but ten pounds every two years is going to land me in a place that will be even harder to get out of. I have been trying, the last couple of days, to watch how many calories I take in (loosely speaking, I'm not really counting calories, but trying to have smaller portions in general). I figure cutting out two to three Pepsis a day (or almost 500 calories!!) should be a good start, and I can gradually eat less, more frequently. I think taking soda out of my diet and starting to exercise will go a long way as far as getting rid of some of my newly acquired...area.

It really is a shame that it accumulates everywhere except where I could use some extra weight. Oh well. I better go hop on the bike tonight because I don't want to miss a day already. I feel motivated to do this, so I think I need to jump on the horse before it takes off without me.

I also need to work on some good analogies.

Maybe they're trying to tell us something?

I worked last week, very diligently (except when I was taking a nap), to get our house ready for Michaela's birthday party (Yes, her birthday was in the beginning of January.  Once, Christian had a party three months after his birthday, so...improvement!).  I felt pretty good about the downstairs and the bathrooms, and great about Michaela's room.  The other bedrooms and the master bathroom, though?  Still such a wreck.  But today, after the conversation with Mike, I started in on Eliana's room.  It had gotten quite out of hand.  I began with the laundry that I had on her bed, got it folded, and put it all away.  Then I tackled her closet. 

You know how you can't do [x] until you do [y]?  And you can't do [y] until you do [z]?  Well...that's how I feel about just about everything that needs to be done in this house.  Eliana's closet was no exception.  I could hardly walk in there to get pants for her without calisthenics and obstacle-course maneuvering.  I took a bunch of stuff out, rearranged, and got it to a point where she could actually get in there and get things out to play with again.  I can reach all the clothes, without stretching across bins with clothes for her to grow into, and pulling muscles in my back.  I went on to pick up and vacuum her bedroom.  I put toys away.  I put books away.  I put games away.  I got the mess down to one table which I put in her room to use as a sewing station.  I'll get to that tomorrow. 

Bringing order to her stuff made me so happy.  I know people think that I am a mess.  Okay, I tell people that I am a mess, and I am in so many ways.  But I feel like there is this truth screaming in me all the time that I LIKE, REALLY LIKE, ORDER AND EVERYTHING IN ITS PLACE!  My silverware drawers always look so very neat!  I fluctuate between thinking,"If we can just get to the point where everything is in its place, then I can maintain!  I can do it!" and "Hopeless!  Hopeless!  Hopeless!" 

I know that we need to do a better job with the kids, getting them involved, helping them learn to clean as they go.  There is so much to that, from teaching them about the practical daily living stuff to how the spiritual stuff is beautifully and wonderfully (and often terrifyingly) intertwined with the ordinary.  When Mike and I were talking, he referenced the creation, and how God took this chaotic, swirling mass and brought both order and beauty to be.  And isn't that what he is doing with us?  Taking the chaos and the mess and the brokenness and making it whole and clean and properly ordered?  It doesn't happen all at once (usually).  It is a process (note to self:  read what you write and remember it), and a lifelong one, at that. 

So.  Today I took a tiny chaotic corner of our home and tried to rein in the disaster.  A little each day?  And so it goes...

I'm going to put a cute little pink curtain up under the built-in desk to hide some of the things that have a temporary home under there.  It's tidy and it will be concealed.  That is not cheating, is it?!

I Heart Faces is collecting Oh So Silly pictures this week.  While this moment isn't over-the-top silly, and in fact I missed the silly bunny ears, I thought it was a fun candid shot.  I'm sure there will be some very cute and funny pictures this week.  

While chaos follows, not only in his immediate family situation but also in the unfolding history of the nations which come from his sons, God continues to speak to and chase after and love his children.  He does not forget.  He remains faithful.  He reigns.  God's purposes indeed unfold, until finally the radical and unbelievable extent of his unconditional love is seen in the coming of his son Jesus.  The promised son, the son who would save.

I am so much like Abraham in his weakness.  I can worship God on a Sunday morning, leave the service, and spiral down to a devastatingly low place in minutes as I listen to and see the effects of the fallen world around me. From the fighting of my children to my own failures at home to the poverty in so many regards of so many people in the world...it becomes an immediate weight that threatens to pull down and destroy.  Yet, suddenly, in spite of all of my ineptitude at being a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, housewife, there is the hand of God.  Again.  Holding.  Firm.  Strong.  Everlasting.  

Warts and all.  Wavering faith.  Desire to move forward.  Learning to wait. Leaning heavily on the strong tower.

"In the Waiting Room" - sermon title