Running Circles

       Maybe it was the partridge that came through my living room window sending pieces of glass throughout my entire house. Maybe it was the hair I’ve been cleaning up after my six year old practiced her dream of being a hair-cutter on her little sister. Maybe it was the Vaseline I’ve been wiping off the butt of my eighteen month old's baby doll, because she insists on changing her diaper. I am not sure what has been keeping me so busy, but today I thought I would sit down to do something for myself. Maybe write a blog, maybe check my email, maybe sip a cup of hot cocoa, or maybe try to make the myth of a stay at home mom come true and eat a bonbon. Oh, if life were only this simply. For all you out there that get an actually 15 minute break or an allotted half a hour lunch break, during your work day, please do not take this for granted! Enjoy sitting down to eat your meal at a normal speed.  First of all, the fact that you are sitting is enough to make you grateful. Second of all, be thankful you get to eat at a normal speed. You do not know how lucky you are. Yes, I am ashamed, but even when I eat without my children I have learned to eat fast by habit, no I mean, out of survival. I am not proud of this, but as a busy mom I have learned the less time you take eating the less chaos that can happen in that amount of time. You see, during my attempt at a fifteen minute break My four year old asked for some applesauce, to which I replied “sure“, knowing she could handle getting her own applesauce. A moment later she said “ah oh I spilled some“. Still clinging to my attempt at a break I replied, “get a paper towel and wipe it up“. As she pulled a chair up to the counter to reach the paper towel her older sister came walking into the kitchen with her bowl of cereal that contained the left over milk she refuses to drink. Yes, you can see it, right? Of course, she slips on the applesauce, her bowl goes flying into the air sending milk every where and she lands square on her bottom covered in applesauce. It is at this moment that I look at the clock and realize, luckily, I still have ten minuets of my break left. Okay, I was just dreaming. Of course I jumped up and ran to the rescue. Now instead of taking my peaceful break I am on all fours wiping up applesauce and milk from the floor, cabinets, and rugs. As I haul one milk and applesauce covered rug to the laundry on my way back I realize I dripped milk all the way to the laundry pile. Back on all fours again. My six year old removes her applesauce covered clothes and I wipe off her arm and leg. So there you have it, the proof is in the applesauce. For every one minute of break I take, I earn two minutes of extra work. It literally is taking one step forward and then two steps back. Some days it’s hard to move past this. There is only so long a person can run in circles.
But then, there is always a light that shines through the spilled applesauce. Or something like that. I finished my day with some prenatal yoga. While doing yoga, I could see my six year old off  to the side, copying me. I asked her if she would like to do yoga with me. With this, she eagerly jumped in place in front of me with a big smile on her face. I don’t know if you have ever watched a little girl do yoga, but it is the cutest thing ever. After we finished, I gathered up my kids to read them a book. My three girls fought over who was going to sit by me. As I let them fight it out, I sat amazed at the fact that, not only do they all want to be by me, but they want to copy me, be like me, and do the things I do. Feeling like I’m getting nowhere, after running circles all day, I must be doing something. Because I have a lot of little eyes watching me and they still want to be like me. So, maybe I’m the lucky one. I have so much to be grateful for. I may not have fifteen minute breaks or thirty minute lunches but I have today. I am very thankful for each today I get to spend with my children. Chaos or no chaos it’s a day and it has purpose beyond what I can see . If I could only be the woman  I hope my girls will be some day.
To my three beautiful little girls, for whom I pray God has made me woman enough to be their mother.

Wipe it up

                                                                  Wipers wanted
                              must have experience and references
                                      Only serious wipers apply
                                      Help needed immediately
                                               Inquire within
Oh the things I wipe. Sometimes I feel like that is all I do. Wipe up this. Wipe up that. Then, at the end of the day, it is hard for someone just arriving to see what I have been doing all day. What they missed was the chaos and the wiping up of the chaos. That is, you see, what I do. I clean up life’s little messes. So to the late arriver it appears that there were no messes. Oh don’t be fooled. Life always has messes. I’ve just been wiping them up.
Here is a list of some of the things I have wiped……
poopy butts,  late night vomit, spilled milk, sticky chairs, adorable but messy faces, tears on a cheek, smirks off a face, boogers out of a nose, marker off a tongue,  poop off hands, rubbing alcohol on an umbilical cord, vaseline on a fresh circumcision, fungus from chubby armpit rolls,  lint from a belly button, tears from my eyes, blood from a nose, crayon off walls, chewing gum out of carpet, wax out of ears, tears off another cheek, puddle of pee, paint that splattered, glue that squeezed out the side, lint from the dryer, baby food from a highchair, lipstick off a toddler, nail polish off the counter, tears off another cheek, toothpaste off the sink, shampoo out of eyes, fingerprints from windows,  crumbs off the bottom of my feet, new born baby poop off my pants, dust off my “me time” box, mud off shoes, snowflakes off long eyelashes, pieces of broken glass, smacked mosquitoes off the wall, germs off hands, dried on food from a dish, and yet another tear off a cheek.
Oh no, I got to go. My children require some wiping. One is standing in a puddle of pee, another is eating a marker, the other has a smirk on her face, and oh goodness here come the tears!
 From personal experience I know that there will always be tears to wipe, but I hope that we out grow the poopy hands and puddles of pee. Okay, now I really got to go!
Urgent, If you are willing to wipe, please apply. All wipers accepted. 
From a mom who is willing to admit that sometimes I just need a little help!

Someone's Grandma

         As I was looking through the box of  my grandma’s photos, I came across a picture of my grandma as a young girl standing with her mother.  I never knew her mother. From the pictures, I can vaguely see what she looked like. I never knew her personality, what kind of mother she was, what kind of a person she was, her hopes, her dreams, her struggles, or her joys. I can only guess that some of my grandma’s qualities were passed down from her mother.  As I looked at them standing together, I thought how neat it would have been to know my grandma as a little girl. How cool it would be to be able to go back into this photo and look into her eyes, knowing the nation of people that would come from her. Knowing that she would have struggles. Knowing she would have joys. Knowing the man she would marry and knowing the number of her days. How neat it would have been to know my grandma before her beliefs, morals, and values were established.  To know her, when she was still dreaming about what she might be some day. With these thoughts in my mind, knowing I had a lot of things to get done this day, I packed the pictures back in the box and I scooped  up my eighteen month old little girl who  had been begging for my  attention. As we headed to the kitchen, I caught our reflection in the mirror. I stopped and starred at the little girl on my hip. I thought this could be a photo that my great grandchildren look back on some day. They will not know who I am. They will not know  my personality, what kind of mother I am, what kind of person I am, my hopes, my dreams, my struggles, or my joys.  All they will know is my daughter, their grandmother, and any qualities she takes from me whether good or bad. As I looked at our reflection, I thought I am holding someone’s mother, someone’s grandmother, someone’s great grandmother.  How lucky am I that I might be holding the beginning of a great nation of people. How fortunate that I get to know her before she is established in her ways. How cool to be able to see the full circle. I get to hold her, hug her, and tell her how beautiful she is, while she dreams of what she might be some day.
         I was reassured this day from one photo. You see life is not about us. It is not about the career we establish. The amount of money we make. The way we look. The house we live in. The amount of programs we are involved in. I have been criticized for the way I raise my children, but I am not ashamed to say that the place for a mother is with her children. Our world has turned this into a negative thing, but I say what is more important than raising someone’s mother, father, grandmother, or grandfather. If you still do not agree with me than someday I would like you to look into the eyes of your great grand daughter and honestly tell her you did the best you could. All these worldly things we cling to, will fade away with our image in that photo. They will not matter in the long run and you can not take them with you. I don’t know what you‘re going to do. But for every day that I am given,  I am going to take this little girl that is on my hip, someone’s grandmother, hold her, hug her, and tell her how beautiful she is, while she dreams of what she might be some day.

What is being said

In Psalm 127 it says that children are a gift and  one who has many of them are blessed.  I read this passage many times in the past, but when I read it again the other day I laughed to myself.  I wondered if the writer, of Psalm 127, was a fly on my wall. Would he just continue to remind me of my gifts and blessings, would he be disgusted with  me, or would he be proud. I am not sure. But I do know one thing for sure. My children are a gift and I am truly blessed beyond measure. More than I will ever deserve. Then, I got thinking about a 'gift'. When  we give gifts there are normally strings attached. We give a gift because that person is going to be giving us a gift. Because then they will owe us something. Because it is Christmas and everybody must get a gift for everybody they know. Because we want our name on a plaque or proclaimed among everybody that “we gave“.  Yes, this is how we give gifts. But not God. He gives freely. With no strings attached. His gifts are for our good and for His glory. When I first started raising my children, there were days I thought  I was not very blessed and, to be honest, I still have those days. But then I’m reminded of what my children do for me. You see, everything I see in my children that frustrates me, that makes me angry, or that I just don’t understand, are my faults reflected back. That is the gift that God gives to me daily. I am humbled daily. I see what I am capable of without His grace. I see what I would be if He did not discipline me. I now have a glimpse at what He deals with daily. When He listens to my complaining, never ending discontent, laziness, greed, and selfishness.  I thought back to that fly on the wall and the things that are constantly being said between these walls. The things I get  after my children about daily, are also things that could be said right back to me and to every human being  ever born. You see, as we age we don’t  become less childlike. We may understand the difference between right and wrong, but that does not change our desire to do what is wrong. We will always have the human nature we were born with. We just learn to hide it, be sneaky about it, or manipulative. So, this is called maturity, the ability to hide what we’re really thinking. Wow, how humbling! See this is the gift of children. They remind us who we really are, but for the grace of God. The following is a list of the things I often say to my children. Sometimes all of them in the same day. Other times over the course of a week. I sometimes wonder “when are they going to get it”. But then I remember, I am almost thirty years old and I still have not gotten it. So, God has given me children and has used my own mouth to instruct and remind me……….
It is not nice to be happy when someone else is sad
If you do not have room for your vegetables, you do not have room for desert
Never talk back to your mother
Go outside
Go find something productive to do
It’s quiet time, everybody needs some quiet time
Use your manners
Never give up, persevere, come on , you can do it
Good job, I knew you could do it
Let’s get this work done, then we can go do something fun
Find some way to help
Be a helper
Be a good listener, I need good listeners
I know that you’re tired, so am I, but we need to get through this
If you can not behave you will be disciplined
Let’s be hard workers
Enough of the whining and crying
Stop thinking only about yourself
I love you so much
Stay by me, always stay right by me
Hold my hand
I know that it hurts, but yelling and screaming will not make it better
Even if you do not like the food I prepared for you, eat it anyway
Take care of your siblings, look out for each other, keep them safe
Stop fighting
No, I am not buying that, you have enough stuff
Wait, be patient
Be thankful for what ever you are given

Grandma

 A bag of rubber bands. Yes that is what I will remember my grandma by. You see my grandma was going green long before it was popular. She sorted her garbage according to what it could be used for, compost, recycling or things that had to be thrown out. She washed out plastic bags so they could be reused again. She saved pieces of paper from the mail or elsewhere. A lot of the paper we throw away is only printed on one side, so my grandma would cut them into note size portions and use them as scratch paper. Even her dirty dish water could be used to water the plants. And did you know the soap in the water also helps keep bugs away from your plants.  She wasn’t trying to save the environment. She wasn’t trying to join some “green is the new black” club. She just thought about things. Why throw away something that  still has value? Now don’t get me wrong, my grandma was not a hoarder. Quite the opposite actually. Everything had It’s place. She could tell you where anything was in her house, right down to which shelve, what side, and what’s in front of it.   She only kept things she could use or she would pass them on to someone else.  Everyday when the newspaper came she took off the rubber band and placed it in a sandwich bag until the bag was full. During one of our visits, my grandma gave me the bag full of ink stained rubber bands because she thought the kids and I might find them useful. I grinned as we drove home with the bag full of rubber bands, thinking about how many days it must have taken her to fill that bag. Much to my amazement we use those rubber bands often and I think about her every time. Thanks to my grandma’s frugality I will not have to buy rubber bands for a long time.  My grandma has always been a constant in my life. She has always opened up her home to our visits. She was a great listener, even into the night. When I say great listener I mean she really listened, cared, asked questions, and replied to our conversations.  During our visits I always looked forward to playing games. MY grandma loved to play games,  she was always up for any game. She loved strategy games and games of luck.  She did not just go through the motions to say she played a game, she always tried her best and was a great competitor. I am truly going to miss  these times.  Fortunately my grandma has passed down  the game playing gene, so I am going to keep on bugging my kids and husband to play and I would feel truly blessed if one day I am able to play games with my grandchildren. Speaking of grandchildren, my grandma was pleased to announce that she lived to see 31 great grandchildren born into her family. God has truly blessed her. I can’t even imagine one grandchild, let alone 31 great grandchildren. It’s amazing to me how God takes 2 people and turns them into eighty.  My grandma was a woman of faith. Some people constantly have their TV on for background noise, but in my grandma’s house it was the radio, always tuned to some Christian music station or to some preacher preaching. Some people remember the smell of their grand parents house. I will always remember this as the sound of my grandparents house.  She has always been a great example of a Christian woman, and I am proud to be called her granddaughter.  She was always faithful in remembering everyone’s birthday by  sending them a card. And inside the card was always the same message, “God loves you  my dear granddaughter and I do too,  Love Grandma”. So Grandma, for one last time I’d like to say to you. God loves you my dear grandmother and I do too, Love Katrina.

Skiing

As a result of becoming  a mother of four precious children, I have spent the last eight years off and on pregnant. For this I am very blessed and grateful, but I have also spent those years not doing things I use to love. There are so many things that become more difficult or for that matter impossible to do while pregnant or with a baby.  So I decided to focus on raising my children and sacrifice those things. I am not sure whether my husband and I will have more children or not. Which brings me to my problem. How long do I keep catering to a pregnant belly or a baby and hold off on things that my older children and myself would enjoy? The answer is, not one more day! I love being pregnant. I love babies  and I love my older children. So, I have decided that I will be inventive and creative. I will find a way to do things with my children, regardless of their age or my state of being. I have been dieing to go cross country skiing. Growing up my family use to go cross country skiing quite often. My whole family had skies from the smallest one all the way up to my parents. I remember the sound the snow would make under my skis, the crispness of the air, and the stillness of nature. The technique of going up the hills with my feet like a duck, the pit of nervousness in my stomach as I stood at the top of the hill and the excitement that came when I glided swiftly down. (that's right cross country doesn't just mean flat ground) These are happy childhood memories and I am thankful that my parents took time to take me skiing. Therefore, I would like to give a similar memory to my children. Okay, so back to the problem. I have a 7, 5, 3, and 1 year old. I know my 7 and 5 year old would love to learn to ski.So what do I do with the 3 and 1  year old? So I thought, somehow I need to be able to safely have my baby with me while I'm on skies. I got it. I'll tie a rope around my waist and then tie the baby sled to the rope and I will pull her while my 3 year old walks. This was a great idea but was not much fun for my 3 year old. So I tied a sled to the back of the baby sled and pulled her too! We had a blast all winter long. I don't know if it was because I enjoy to ski or if it was because I conquered a challenge. Regardless, problem solved! And ready for the next one!  I know what you're thinking.  Every time I want to go skiing, I should just get a babysitter or bring them to grandma's house! ABSOLUTELY NOT this is not an option.For all you mothers out there that were thinking a babysitter was a good idea, I challenge you to find ways to do things with your kids. Find a way! Think outside the box! I promise you your kids will remember it and you'll look back and be empowered by it.