A thought for today...

You Know He Loves You If He Puts Away Your Curling Iron

The man I married loves me, and I have definitive proof.

Is it this lovely diamond ring he gave me?

I've worn it for 14 years, and it cost him roughly two months' pay at the time. It IS fabulous and meaningful. You probably thought that's what I was going to say. But as much as I love the ring, he did buy it while he was seriously twitterpated. Now it's more of a symbol of commitment and a sign to others that I'm very, very off the market. And I assure you, if I were ever abducted by thieves, I'd eat it. But no, it's not that.

Is it the kisses and hugs?

Those are important. No, I'll be honest, those are like crack. I'm addicted! But it's not that, because kisses and hugs are fun all around and don't really require sacrifice (unless one of us forgot to shower).

Is it the long talks, Facetime conversations and texts?

Those connections are vital to maintaining our friendship and that feeling of family that The Captain and I have with each other. They're also good for keeping each other updated… "Hey, the car needs gas before tomorrow morning." "Don't forget about Sweet Pea's concert tonight." "Did you realize Mr. Boy knows how to totally naked himself now?" But no, it's not that either.

Here's the proof—he puts my curling iron away for me. 

Maybe that sounds random to you, but it touches my heart in a deep place. We have a small bathroom with little room for appliances on the counter. I have a small attention span with little room for distraction. So between my getting distracted a lot while I'm waiting for my curling iron to cool down, and the outlet being on his side of the counter, that curling iron is in his way pretty often. He told me this one time. Only once. 

I know for a fact when he puts it away, because I do it like this:

And he does it like this:

Am I saying there's only one correct method of putting away a small appliance? 

Nope. I'm just saying that every time I get it out of the drawer, I can tell who put it in there. I'm sheepish to admit, I usually find it being strangled by its own cord, meaning he stepped in quietly and took care of it. For the umpteenth time. And that becomes a love note to me, letting me know that I am accepted, flaws and all.

Should I probably work on being more considerate in this area? 

Definitely. I do feel a tiny pang of guilt for putting him out of his way. But this post is more to celebrate those little moments when a spouse's love and humility can turn a potential source of irritation into a symbol of abiding faithfulness in action. Yes, it's just a curling iron. A small thing. But small things can have profound meaning. Just ask the couple on the verge of divorce, who claim the other person doesn't love them. Why? Because he stopped saying "I love you." Because she stopped encouraging him. Because the other person would never replace the toilet paper. Little things.

He has every reason to grow impatient over my forgetfulness, snap at me, or even retaliate by leaving whisker dust all over the sink. But he doesn't. Instead, he just puts the curling iron in the drawer and forgives me. Every time. And by doing that, he's changing my life. Every time.

"Always be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, 

making allowance for each other's faults because of your love." 

Ephesians 4:2 NLT

The Captain

What are some ways your spouse or loved one shows you symbolic love in action?

Do you let them know you've noticed and appreciate it?

What can you do to show love to them?

Leave a comment! :D

5 Ways to Get Creative In Bed

I have been having trouble in bed for a while now. I'd love to take all the credit for that with my late-night blogging sessions, but I'd be remiss if I didn't give props to my kids for helping make me this way too. There are lots of hints and tips out there for overcoming the problems I'm having, but I can be a tough nut to crack. I get in bed, and things just don't go the way they should! So I've been researching some other, more inventive means to get there. Other means that don't involve vodka mixed with Ovaltine, that is. 

Here's how I get creative in bed:

Stare.

That's right. If someone is trying to sleep next to you, stare at them. It's not only fascinating and creeptastic, it will finally afford you the time to count their eyelashes while making up a song to go with their nose whistle. If it's a good song, you can also hum quietly. After a while, you'll be so bored you won't know what hit you till morning.

If nobody's in bed with you, then focus on Jesus. Blow up this photo and stick it to your ceiling: 

If you stare at it until your eyes water, then when you close your eyes, you'll see an artistic rendering of Euro-Jesus (or possibly just some random hipster) floating across your retinas. Sweet.

Play footsie. 

Invite small children, a cat, or your neighbor's pet parrot to play at the foot of your bed for an hour. That night, attempt to identify all of the random objects that have been left there, using only your feet. 

Swaddle.

Hey, it works for babies! Roll yourself up in a sheet until you're in an inescapable burrito straightjacket. You'll be so exhausted from trying to escape that you'll fall right to sleep. Plus you can skip your morning workout. Win-win.

Hit the brewsky store.

Not for brewskies. For an ingredient… hops! Put some green hops into a sachet next to your pillow. Drift away into very German-smelling dreams. For reals, this is actually a thing! Like yourself, hops only get better (and smellier) with age.

Weird dreams.

This is the best one of all. It's every bit as good as falling asleep during a sermon, but with an extra dose of awesome. Bust out your favorite music listening app and pair it with your audiobook app. You haven't really experienced Little Women until you've heard it with Pink Floyd's "Interstellar Overdrive" playing in the background. The story of Jonah gets a lot more fun when played with the Hawaii Five-O theme. 

But the best one I've tried yet… the resurrection of Jesus from Matthew 28 to the theme from Superman. 

Chills.

So that's how I fix my insomnia... Wait, what did you THINK I was talking about?

10 Ways to Stop Bad Behavior Before It Starts

This blog post is for myself, primarily. Feel free to eavesdrop if you wish! 

These are parenting lessons I've learned both from experience with my Short People and from people far wiser than I am. 

I tend to operate best when I live by these principles, but I often forget them until after a potentially awesome moment has passed with a sad trombone "wah-wah-wwaaahhhh" of mediocrity. So I've decided to collect them all in one place, for my own reference. Maybe they'll help you too! It's just extra awesome that they all somehow start with the same letter. *wink wink!*

Here's what happens. 

I get absorbed in a task that has me completely preoccupied. I'm making good progress, and then it occurs to me that my children are eerily quiet. I go into the next room, and there's the reason: a wayward child has procured a bag of Oreos and a box of Sharpies to create an original masterpiece on his bedroom wall! Uhhh… for example.

My best move at that point is to take pictures. Y'know, for… posterity. Then I suck it up and bust out the Magic Erasers. Because when stuff like this happens, I know that the blame rests squarely on my own shoulders. I was tuned out.

But this doesn't just happen with little kids. It happens in a more insidious way with my older ones who start to drift away from me emotionally or relationally. It doesn't happen overnight. Little by little, their moorings loosen until I realize their chores are in an awful state or they're trying to solve matters of the heart by watching My Little Pony. Where was I?

So here's the battle plan: 

10 big ideas to parent PROactively, rather than REactively… because so much poor behavior begins way before I see it.

1. Interact

I can interest myself in my child's world through interaction. 

Just like me, my child has an inner life, big feelings, opinions, perceptions, loves, and desires. He is building his world whether I'm ready or not—so we'll build a world together! My curiosity and enthusiasm for who he is will keep our hearts close. It will grant me precious influence and trust.

2. Invest

I must devote time to care for my child emotionally, spiritually, and physically. 

I find that a huge percentage of the cases when misbehavior is a result of "acting out," it's because I've got a hungry or sad child who needs investment and I've let them go too long without it. I know it sounds absurdly obvious, but I find it easy to forget even the simplest things sometimes, like a snack. Why is this child so cranky?? Oh yes, because he ate three hours ago and he's in a growth spurt. He's too little to say, "Mother dear, it would appear that my blood sugar is crashing and my brain is awash in stress hormones." Keeping an eye on the clock so I know when his last calories and decent romp in the dirt happened is something I can do. I just have to do it. 

Why is this girl so mopey? Oh yes, possibly because she got off the bus an hour ago and I have said nothing to her but "Do your homework," "Feed the dog," and "Put your backpack away." She needs to hear that I missed her. She needs to tell me that the class had to undergo group punishment for the offenses of some. She needs a hug! Taking time to look into her eyes and hear her is something I can do. I just have to do it. 

3. Include

I can involve my kids in my daily activities as much as possible. 

This is not new advice, but I need to heed it more often! All my kids, but particularly my littlest, start acting persnickety when they feel just plain left out!
My pastor just made a comment last weekend that God is a good dad who likes to take his kids to work with him. We don't make his job any easier; in fact, we often make it harder. But he lets us help because of how much we grow from it. That resonated with me because I tend to focus on how much longer a job will take if I have "helpers." I forget that I can be using those times as an opportunity to instill a love for hard work and camaraderie in my kids. Plus, if they're with me, then I can see what they're doing at all times!

4. Instruct

It's only fair that I train my child to do what is expected, step by step. 

This seems obvious too, but I can't count the number of times I've been frustrated that my kids didn't "know any better" about how to act. Why should they? How does this information get into their heads? I have to put it there. Of course they chew with their mouths open. Of course they leave their belongings everywhere. Of course they touch ALLOFTHETHINGS. It's human nature! If I want a different result, I'll have to teach them strategies for how to get there. I'll have to train their memories over time. 

How would I feel if I got a new job that required on-the-job training, and immediately got into trouble with my boss for not knowing what to do? I'd feel like I'd gotten the shaft! I would want to be trained and given feedback to improve, not learn by trial and error by being yelled at every time I made a mistake. 

In the same way, my tender kiddos learn best when I teach them what to do in a positive, low-pressure environment. I can have them restaurant ready a lot faster by mocking up a few candlelight dinners at home and letting them practice than I can by tossing them into a noisy, crowded dining room full of strangers and then yanking out my hair when they act like they've never been in a restaurant before! 

5. Illustrate

I absolutely must model the behavior I'm asking from my child. 

This one sucks sometimes. It pokes my lazy bone a bit. I really shouldn't be eating cereal straight out of the box if I've just told my kids not to. I should keep my own room clean if I expect my kids to clean theirs. Ouch, right? I know. Yes, parents have authority and kids don't. Parents could technically get off the hook with some kind of philosophical argument here. But every time I make myself a hypocrite, I am courting rebellion. It's only a matter of time before intelligent kids ask why I don't live what I teach. So I'd better live what I teach. If I'm not prepared to do that, best not to draw a line. 

6. Inspect

Gotta make sure that what I've asked them to do is actually being done. 

This is where I often fall down. Just issuing orders is not enough when we're dealing with human beings. I have to follow up! I hate to say it, because I love my kids, but they will naturally tend toward ease and forgetfulness. Count on it. I can hand a child a carrot and tell her to eat it, but if I never check on her, I will find that same carrot shriveled up in a drawer six months later. Not that I've had this happen, mind you.

Kids need accountability. I need to check in respectfully and often. Get them understanding that nothing gets by me. They WILL be caught, because Mom has (loving) eyes everywhere.

7. Insulate

It's important I respect my kids' temptation limits, and bear them in mind. 

Remember that part of the Lord's Prayer where Jesus teaches us to request of God, "Lead us not into temptation"? After having kids, I'm starting to have a theory about why that is. I know I'm weak in certain areas. What if, on the way to an important meeting, I encounter a room full of Krispy Kreme donuts and screens playing Doctor Who reruns? I'd have a real fight on my hands getting to that freakin' meeting. What if I knew that if I called ahead, someone could lock that door so I don't even have to see all that irresistible, frosted, wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey goodness? What a relief that would be! 

God tells us he never gives us more temptation than we can bear, but with any temptation, he provides a way of escape. I need to be that same kind of parent. Resisting temptation is a skill that has to be developed over time. Put too much tantalizing stuff out there, and the poor kid will feel defeated. Child-proof the house TOO much, and they never get to practice. This is where planning and paying attention have to happen, and laziness on my part will absolutely kill my efforts. I'll have to watch carefully in order to know my child, know what they're ready to take on. Put some stuff away, leave some stuff out. Cheer when they succeed. Make them sit in one spot if they're not ready to roam the house with a PB&J sammy. Insulate them from taking on too much temptation so they can succeed. 

8. Influence

I have to remember that the things my kids take in will shape their behavior. 

Many people have studied and written on the effects of sugar, chemicals, poor nutrition, violent media, and a host of other factors on kids' behavior. So I'm not here to rehash that stuff. I need to educate myself in those areas and then act accordingly. That's what common sense is for. Kids will generally mimic what they see on TV, and many kids are sensitive to the foods they eat. Do these things determine their fates with absolute fatalistic certainty? Nope. But they don't leave them untouched either. 

If I want my kids sparring and busting ninja moves on each other, by all means, I'll turn on movies full of action sequences. If I want my daughter waiting for a prince to come kiss her and planning her wedding day like it's the grand finale of her life, then I'll break out the princess flicks. I've seen both of these happen within a predictable 15-minute window of the closing credits.

But influence isn't just about what to avoid. I can turn it to the positive, too.

I can influence creativity by providing toys and art supplies that require imagination. I can nurture gratitude by creating opportunities to serve and give to others. I can surround my kids with people who are worth emulating. Because they will emulate! 

9. Independentize 

Yes, that is a word. I looked it up. 

This means I'm gradually training my kids to handle being alone, while building my trust in them. "Character is who you are when nobody's watching." I can't always watch. Someday my kids will be on their own. I can't let that day sneak up on me. I have to plan for it now. Yes, this means giving them more and more responsibility and less and less supervision. But it doesn't just mean trying not to hover while (somewhat suspiciously) hoping they come through. It means that even now, before they're ready, I can ignite their imaginations with a vision of what gaining another's trust means. I can inspire them with the privileges that maturity brings. I don't have to force them into early adulthood, but I certainly don't have to neglect them into lingering adolescence either. Milestones are exciting, and I'm going to be a great tour guide. 

10. Intercede

I need to pray for my kiddos!

The easiest, the hardest, the most important one of all. All the mom mojo in the world isn't going to be enough without this important step. Nuff said.

Slow To Speak

I have had so little to say lately.  See the starfish?  Self portrait.

My last blog post was over two weeks ago, but each time I've attempted to put some thoughts down since then, I've found I really don't have anything that original to say. I imagine you, dear reader, skimming halfway through it and realizing you just wasted five minutes of your day reading something that numerous others have already said in some form.

I can't think of much to share on Facebook either. 

My status updates are half as numerous, and they're mostly about my kids. I change my mind and delete about 90% of the comments I'm about to post, because I'm not convinced that they'll actually make anybody's day better.  Someone in my friend list posted an emotional plea yesterday, trying to persuade others to agree with her about a hot-button parenting issue. I'm not one for arguing just for the sake of arguing, especially about issues like this one, but quite often I'll chime in and encourage people to look at facts and decide with their heads rather than out of fear. But last night, after crafting a reply and making it as diplomatic and tactful as I could, I just couldn't hit "Enter." The chance of being misinterpreted was too great. I pasted it into a private message instead. I tweaked it to be more personal and less general. I still couldn't send it. In my mind, it seemed far-fetched that my words would suddenly sway her, not even from her opinions, but just from her crusading battle tactics. Quite out of character, I decided that deleting the whole thing and letting it go seemed more like the loving thing to do.

This is all very weird for me.

I'm never at a loss for words. Refraining from having my thoughts like a rotating sprinkler head on full blast has really been more my problem in life. It's not like I've suddenly decided to stop talking. It's happening quite without my intervention. It seems to be step 2 in the process God is doing in my heart. The first step was beginning my education on pain (which you can read about by clicking HERE). Now it seems that He's literally taking away my ability to articulate a quick opinion about everything. I think this falls into the miracle category, seriously. If I can come up with one at all, I have doubts about expressing it. For the first time in my life, I'm experiencing what it's like to be truly slow to speak.

"Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person

be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger..." —James 1:19

Is it okay to be this quiet?

I think so. :) Social media create the opposite environment, making it easy for me to be anything but quiet. I think that as a society, we're getting to the point where we expect to hear about every dessert people make and every pumpkin their kids sit on. I'm certainly not saying that's a bad thing, and I enjoy the convenience of being able to reach so many friends so quickly. But from where I'm sitting, it's also starting to look like another way to talk without thinking. I'm starting to question, is what I'm about to say going to benefit anyone? The majority of the time, no. Is this a sign that I'm depressed and having low self-esteem? I don't think so. 

But I looked it up, just to make sure...

"When words are many, transgression is not lacking, 

but whoever restrains his lips is prudent." —Proverbs 10:19

"A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, 

but only in expressing his opinion." —Proverbs 18:2

And my personal favorite:

"Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, 

but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, 

that it may give grace to those who hear." —Ephesians 4:29

I combed through the Bible just to make sure there wasn't a verse in there about being entitled to my opinions or speaking often so that people can really know me. I got nothing. It was very un-American. It kept saying in various ways that I am created to know God and help others know Him, not me. And it also seemed to indicate that the more I say, the more potential I have for getting myself into trouble. I can certainly attest to that. I keep waiting for the sprinkler head to come back on and spew out all those opinions I used to be so proud of. I have no guarantee that it won't ever happen.

But it seems like the more I understand of God, the quieter I get.

...Leave me a comment! :D

The Embrace of Pain

I had my body stolen when I was twelve. 

No, it wasn't alien abduction. Although that would be pretty cool if it meant I could ride in a Tardis. Never mind if you don't get that, just shake your head at me and move on. :) What I mean is, since I was about twelve years old, I've suffered from a chronic pain condition that is difficult to treat and poorly understood by most doctors.  In the past, I've likened it to having my Ferrari stolen and being given a rusty jalopy in which to hobble to life's finish line.  The idea of waking up each morning refreshed and energetic completely mystifies me. I'm usually reaching for pain pills and adding up time fragments to figure out how many hours of sleep I actually got. By the end of the day, it's easier to name body parts that don't hurt. And though I'm exhausted, I find it difficult to fall asleep in less than two hours. 

Maybe you can relate.

Realistically speaking, this condition isn't really curable for most people. I've prayed for healing. Years ago, a well-meaning friend encouraged me to "claim" verses like Psalm 103:3 (The Lord is the one who forgives all your iniquity and heals all your diseases.) I was so convinced for a while that God would heal my body completely if I just believed he would and asked with a pure heart. The truth is, God can do whatever he wants with his pots of clay. I have no right to "claim" the fulfillment of his promises in my own way and time. I have to wait for his best for me. But that's another blog post. For now, the bottom line seems to remain the same: 

Pain is going to be a big part of my life. Here's part of the reason I think that:

"So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness 

of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan 

to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord 

about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, 

for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of 

my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 

For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." --2 Corinthians 12:7-10

Please understand, I am in NO way comparing myself to the great apostle Paul. I haven't been dealing with the "surpassing greatness" of any major revelations lately, except that butternut squash purée can go into just about any recipe. But I still need to be humbled.  And like Paul, physical pain is one way my heavenly Father chooses to accomplish that. Another reason I know I'm supposed to be in pain is that I didn't choose it, yet it's still here.

If you've read my blog for any length of time, you might have discovered I'm a mom. For Approximately half that time, I'm a single mom because my hubby The Captain is off flying planes. Don't get me wrong. I love our lifestyle because when he's home, he's usually home for days. But that means I have to find a way to function when I'm alone with three Short People.    

I have asked God, if he won't heal me, to at least show me how to get better... 

Juicing? Nutritional therapy? Supplements? Drugs? See a chiropractor? Get a massage? (The answer to that last one is always a yes, by the way.) But this is an area where the Lord has been pretty quiet and is asking me to trust him. I've tried all sorts of lifestyle modifications and therapies, with some limited improvements. If you have a theory, I've probably already heard it. And, I have been taking pain meds on and off for about seven years, just to function. And ya know what, they help. They help a LOT. 

And that is now my big, fat dilemma.

If you know anything about prescription pain meds, you know they start to lose their effectiveness unless you keep switching up or increasing your dose. That seemed fine to me, because it was working for the moment. I wasn't really looking beyond the next year or two. But I just got a big wake up call over the weekend. There was a bunch of complication and drama that arose and my refill didn't come when I was expecting it to. I was forced into full-on cold turkey mode. And then I realized…

This is only going to get harder. 

If I think this sucks now, just wait till I've been on these drugs another ten years and my body doesn't know what to do without them. What if I live till I'm 90? Do I really expect another 55+ years of playing this game to work out well? Sounds like a winding, crooked path to me. I think that, without realizing it, I had begun to allow myself to see those pain meds as life-giving. They made me feel and act like a normal person. But I'm not a normal person. I'm a person whom God has chosen for pain in order to bring glory to himself. And those drugs aren't life-giving, they're actually pretty hard on my body. They're great for short-term situations and I'd use them in a heartbeat for that, but this is different. It is not God's will for me that I destroy my body for a few hours' respite each day. And it's definitely not his will that I look to another savior. Because my life's purpose is not to run from the weight of pain in search of temporary fixes, as if I'm convinced that God won't really be enough to sustain what he has created to enable me to do what he's asked.

I don't know what the answer is right now. 

I don't know what life is like any more without pain drugs to help me cope. Quite honestly, I'm a bit freaked out at the idea. It won't be a Sunday afternoon picnic, but I'm more concerned about missing what God has for me, just because I wanted my life to be easy. I know what he's asking, and I know he's calling me to stop fearing pain, but instead embrace it so that he can meet me there. 

"Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, 

and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint 

but rather be healed." —Hebrews 12:12-13

Leave me a comment! :D

The Loving Touch

I'm on my third go-around with a toddler.

Kid 3.0 is a budding almost-two-year-old (my very firstest Mr. Boy) who is the human equivalent of Jell-O. I love that kid. The process of getting each child to elementary age in one piece teaches me something new every time.  With my first child, I learned that car seats work best when buckled down with a seatbelt. One day in the car, she was making a weird little squeaky noise I'd never heard before. When I looked behind me, I realized it was because she was getting to experience her very first time being upside down since the womb. Let me just say though, those car seat handles make awesome roll bars. Do not try this at home.

With my second child, I learned that the outcome is precisely the same whether you sterilize the dropped pacifier before giving it back, or whether you just lick it off and rub it on your pant leg… actually nothing happens. She never exploded!

Another thing I keep noticing is that toddlers mimic what their parents do. 

This can be good, bad, or hilarious. Like when I'm going all Jackie Chan with a fly swatter and yelling, "Die, bugs! Die!!" and I hear a little voice behind me holler, "DIE!!! DIE!!" while the child maniacally smacks the floor. Or when we're in traffic and someone honks a horn somewhere, and a child in my back seat yells, "What is WITH you people??"

But lately I've also been getting to experience again how sweet it can be.

I went to the doctor for a checkup today, and Mr. Boy came with me. While the nurse took my vitals, he watched her like a hawk. When the blood pressure cuff went on, he laid his baby soft hand protectively on my other arm and looked at me with concerned question in his eyes. "It's okay, Buddy," I reassured him. After the nurse left the room, he toddled over to the counter, climbed up on the padded bench next to it, and snagged a tissue from the box. He proceeded to dab my forehead, the corners of my mouth, my eyes, and my cheeks with it, all while whispering sweet little babbles of loving care three inches from my face. I relished the sweet scent of his graham cracker breath and baby shampooed hair. Then he sat in my lap and patted my shoulder for a while. After we got home, we played in his room for a few minutes before his nap. He covered me with his blankie, and mimicking the exact process by which I always put him to bed, he spoke his babyish blessing over me and stroked my hair with his little hand. 

When Jesus said that the kingdom of God belongs to such as these, he wasn't kidding!

Leave me a comment! :D