5MF: Last

I'm linking up to 5 Minute Fridays, a weekly writing prompt shared among all bloggers who participate.  This week's theme is graceful.  You can find out all about it here.


GO.

The last four weeks have been probably the hardest of my life.

{I cheated...I wrote for five minutes, hated what I wrote and am re-writing...but, well, it's my blog and I'll do-over if I want to.}

The last four weeks have seen a giant pity party from me while Professor and I, so sick we can't breathe through noses and ache for sleep, spend those golden hours between little ones' bedtime and our own scouring our mattress for signs of bedbugs.

Yeah, bed bugs.  Just like two years ago.

We've got bites but no signs of them, so the Orkin man can't come spray his death spray and relieve us from the itching and the worrying.

So, it was on a night of wrapping our extra pillows, storage containers, bedside cubicles, and such in trash bags and duct tape that something horrible rose up out of me and spilled all over the floor.

Wailing.  Ugly crying.  Ugly words: "We're educated; we're decent-looking; we've made two beautiful children; we...." on and on and on about how wonderful we are, so why are we still living like this?  In this basement, with these bugs, with these neighbors who are inconsiderate and rude and not-like-us?*

It was the ugliest pity party I've ever had, but Professor let me have it.  Kept taping away the bed bugs, soothing me as he could.

In the days since, there has been screaming baby nights and vomiting Pookie afternoons and not enough sleep, never enough sleep.  But you know what else there has been?

Grace.

Grace from my husband and grace to him.  Grace from my children in long naps and "sometimes it's hard to be a Mommy" reminders from a wise little mouth.

Grace from God in that I am still upright and fighting.

And what there hasn't been?  Any more pity parties.  I can't say I'll never have another one in my life, but that was definitely the last pity party of epic proportion allowed from these lips for the rest of my life.  Because I have better, more important things to do.

Like plead with the Orkin man.

STOP.

*Just a note: I do realize that bed bugs do not discriminate based on socioeconomic factors; they don't care about cleanliness, either, just like lice.

FMF: Rhythm

I'm linking up to 5 Minute Fridays, a weekly writing prompt shared among all bloggers who participate.  This week's theme is graceful.  You can find out all about it here.


GO.

via

"It took me about three years to get the mothering thing down, to find my rhythm."

Words from a wise friend who has graduated one kiddo and has long since left the world of diapers and naptime.  None of her children run around naked (as my oldest is still apt to do) and they are all wonderfully helpful, giving people.

So there's comfort in that it took her three years to find her bearings before figuring out how to raise these wonderful humans.

But.  I'm terrified.

In a few weeks there will be a cake--carrot cake with Bambi on top, as requested--with three candles on it.

Three candles.  And I still feel so often like I'm drowning.

I feel like the "rhythm" we have is not enough because it revolves around nursing, meals, and sleep.  Tuesday and Thursday mornings we go out on the town so I don't lose my mind...but we still end up at Costco once a week so eyes and minds can wander among the abundant space that isn't this apartment.  And for the cheap pizza (also, they've switched to Pepsi products in the food court which makes it all the more tempting to load 'em up and head on out).

Our days don't have lesson plans or consistent hair grooming or objectives or neatly scrubbed floors that were once a part of our life and it makes me forever second guess my ability as a mother.

But there is hope, and I will cling to it: there is more sleep at night.  There is less crying.  There is more consistent memory work at breakfast, Scripture washed down with milk and hidden in little hearts.  Everyone is fed and held and given the gift of sleep baby sleep.

For now, that is all the rhythm we need, no matter how much more I want.


STOP.

FMF: Graceful

I'm linking up to 5 Minute Fridays, a weekly writing prompt shared among all bloggers who participate.  This week's theme is graceful.  You can find out all about it here.


GO.

via

Graceful.  Ballerinas, actresses from days gone by, beautiful people.

Hmm...not me.

Let's flip it around: graceful becomes full of grace, filled with the stuff.  That might hit a little closer to home.  Because I am a mess, a wreck, a wretch just like the song says.  Somedays I do okay, but usually I crawl into bed with a boatload of heavy, exhausted regrets.

I am never enough, can never do enough on my own...but He gives more grace.  Somehow the house gets clean, the Pookster is dressed and even works on her letters and Bible verse most days, and everyone is fed.    He gives grace.

I want to make more progress on knitting or writing or cleaning projects than I realistically have time for...but small bits of progress are made and change is seen.  Because He gives grace.

I want to be better than I am, to lift myself up, to do it on my own.  But then He is there in a gentle whisper: "I give grace."  

And when I yield, then I am strong.  And full of grace...even grace-full.

STOP.

FMF: Change

I'm linking up to 5 Minute Fridays, a weekly writing prompt shared among all bloggers who participate.  This week's theme is change.  You can find out all about it here.


GO.

via

Change is that chill in the air first thing in the mornings now.

Change is in the pencils and glue sticks stacked high in the Target aisles.

Change is my belly that swells and now moves as this tiny girl finds her legs and arms.

Change is the three sentence words coming from my toddler's mouth.  And the new power behind her tantrums.

Change is what can happen when I get off my high horse and sit down to that slice of humble pie.

Change is moving, sorting, finagling huge piles of tiny clothes as one grows up and another is on her way.

Change is clearance stickers on those Target school supplies.

Change is leaves on the ground, crispy, even though it's not quite time for them to turn color.

But that will change, too.

Because change is constant; it is the only thing that never changes, but is never the same.  It is the rhythm of these days that fly by, the beat we hardly notice until it's passed.  And all we feel are its old ripples.

STOP.

FMF: Stretch

I'm linking up to 5 Minute Fridays, a weekly writing prompt shared among all bloggers who participate.  This week's theme is stretch.  You can find out all about it here.
GO.

But my life isn't moving toward stretching, even as my belly does.  Everything but my middle needs to shrink.

My outside obligations.  My go-go-go attitude.  My personal projects and wants.

Little people need a lot of love, a lot of time.  I've had plenty of time to go hither and thither with one little person and still fit everything into the day, but with two?  With two, I need to shrink to the outside world and stretch into this little home of ours.

There will be less escaping to the mall up the road.  Fewer trips to the grocery store just because one item is on super sale.

There will be a lot more popcorn made at home and snuggle time and Bible reading while the littlest one suckles and the big little one nuzzles in close by.  There will be a lot more demands on this mama's time and attention...and there's the stretch.

Can I pull away from my desires, my ambitions, my in-this-moment wants to love these little girls the way they deserve?

No, I can't.  Not of myself.  And so we walk into this next season of nesting and preparing, with hands folded in prayer and Bibles wide open.  Because I simply may not be ready to parent two little girls in my own strength...but by grace alone I don't have to.

STOP.

sd

5MF: Connect

I'm linking up to 5 Minute Fridays, a weekly writing prompt shared among all bloggers who participate.  This week's theme is connect.  You can find out all about it here.


GO.

Connect.  Fellowship.  Friendship.  When you've pulled up your roots from home and feel like a tumbleweed, these can be dirty words.

Growing up, it was easy to connect with anyone: I had a big mouth and lots of time.  As an adult, it's tough to find five minutes in a person's schedule to chat, let alone an hour for coffee...or a few for dinner.

And I will admit we haven't tried as hard as we could.  Professor and I are just rolling through, getting a PhD so we can go onto the next place for some post-doc work, and then a final destination after that.  Why work so hard to leave people behind in the in-between?

"...and love your neighbor as yourself."

Oh, right.  We are called to connect, to reach out, to support, to love on those around us.  It doesn't matter what I want or that I get frustrated when our efforts aren't reciprocated.

Jesus gives no qualifiers.  No ifs.  Just do it.

Just thinking this way reminds me of some kids I promised ice cream and a family I've been meaning to get back to about a get-together.  It is my job to connect, to love, no matter how uprooted I may feel.

Even tumbleweeds roll into other things.

STOP.

FMF: Here

I recently stumbled on a great writing challenge: Five Minute Fridays, a prompt to write for five minutes without editing or revising...then sharing whatever comes out.  I've been lurking for a few weeks, but I decided today to throw myself into it.  You can find lots of great writers in the link up, but this is what I did with the prompt, "Here."

Here is a place beyond yesterday's doubts.

"What if they can't fix the car...again?"

"What if we have to put more money than we have into the car...again?"

"What would our life be like if we just gave up on having a car?"

We went through a lot of "what if" before we got to

"God is big."

"God is sufficient."

"God has a plan for us, even in car trouble."

And we were serious about talking car-free living, that maybe God was calling us there.  And that maybe we would be okay with going to that place.

Except...church.

I scoured for bus routes to get us there.  Two and a half hours one way IF the schedule ran exactly on time...on a Sunday?

I thought about biking.  We've got a newborn on the way and another Midwest winter around the corner.

I thought about taxi rides.  But I cringed at the cost.

I thought about humbling ourselves and asking for rides.  And then I realized we'll be a two car seat family and who has that kind of extra space?

Then I got the "you can come pick up your car" call.  And it was smooth sailing, with no more knocking sound, all the way to the gas station.  Then to the grocery store.  Then to our home.

And I thought about how we'll be able to drive to a birthday party tomorrow, church on Sunday, and a send-off for a family from our church who are moving...because God has gifted us with a car.

So here?  Here is a place full of gratitude for transportation and a God who gives more abundantly than we deserve.