A Lesson In Gratituesday

I've wanted to participate in Heavenly Homemaker's Gratituesday, but it hadn't worked out yet. I was all ready to do it today - until I woke up and reality hit! Tuesday is the most difficult day of the week for me. It's the day that our family schedule returns to normal and I am left with the mess. I'm not saying that my family doesn't help clean up - it's just that it's the day that I play clean up and catch up. Things are particularly in disarray lately, as we have a huge hunting blind/tent set up in our living room. The boys (including daddy) thought it would be fun to play in it - then Mason wanted to sleep in it. That was 4 days ago. Mason is still sleeping in the tent, and I'm still trying to clean around it! One boy is supposed to be emptying trash cans, but it seemed like every single one was overflowing. There were socks and shoes everywhere (granted - some were mine) and two sinks were clogged. Ugh! Gratituesday? Yeah - right. Then my mother-in-law called. She offered to take the boys to see the famous Clydesdales associated with a beverage we don't drink in this house! :) My brother in law is a horse vet, and through some connection of his - they were able to see these magnificent creatures as they came through town today. Mason told me they were bigger than my car - even bigger than a barn! He also got to hold a kitten, and was just as excited about that. So anyway - I got some much needed peace and quiet. Max slept most of the time the older boys were gone, and my house got a quick cleaning. I'm grateful to have a house that needs cleaning. I'm grateful that I have an awesome family to mess it up! And I'm thankful for my mother-in-law...she rescued me and gave me time to catch up and gain perspective on Gratituesday.

Words From Aunt Sue

My Aunt Sue emailed me today with some words of wisdom regarding my post from yesterday. She reminded me of the father from back home that yelled at his son from the baseball field fence during every game. She said Blake has to sit in the bleachers, and "give Mason his privacy" (as he requested). Her husband and my dad coached hundreds of baseball games together. She and my mom didn't miss a game - keeping score and cheering like mad. She knows what she's talking about! Her email took me on a trip down memory lane. I absolutely loved summertime as a child. Going to a million baseball games was definitely a part of that - watching my dad and uncle Larry coach and my brother and cousins play. Those were the days when we played to win, and some kids didn't get to play much because of it. They didn't complain about it either - winning was a good thing...and they won a lot. Now that I'm the mom, I want Mason to have awesome summers, too. I sure hope baseball games are a part of that. Here's a poem my Aunt Sue sent to me about motherhood. Grab a tissue...

We are sitting at lunch when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says, half joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"
"It will change your life," I say carefully, keeping my tone neutral. "I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on the weekend, no more spontaneous vacations..."
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in child birth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will be forever vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never read a newspaper again without asking "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every fire will haunt her.
That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die. I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub.
That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation.
I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for child care, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think about her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of her discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my daughter to know that everyday decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.
Looking at my daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years - not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.
My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the ways she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is always careful to powder the baby or never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she'll feel with women throughout history who have tried desperately to stop war and prejudice and drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future. I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.
I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I say finally. Then I reach across the table, squeeze my daughter's hand, and offer a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. The blessed gift of being a Mother.

Hey Batter Batter

Mason had t-ball practice this morning. His team, The Wildcats, is a co-ed, 4 year olds team at the YMCA. I have really high hopes for Mason as a baseball player. He's built for the sport, and being a lefty is just an added bonus - though he's batting right this year. I realize we're just getting started, but he's going to have to step it up a notch before the scouts come calling. In the last game, a grounder got by him because he was digging a hole near 2nd base. Today, he had to abandon 2nd base again because "nature called". Blake is really encouraging to Mason and hangs out in the infield giving instructions and keeping the kids focused. On the way home I asked Mason if he likes having daddy out there helping, or if he'd prefer to have daddy sit in the stands with me. He said, "I want to have him in the stands. I like my privacy." Yeah - privacy to dig holes in the dirt and answer nature's call in center field instead of trekking to the bathrooms.

Today WSU is competing for a trip to the College World Series. Maybe Mason will watch a few innings with me. Hey - and with the Royals playing like they are - maybe he can play for them in a couple of years. For now - we'll settle for running the bases backward and fighting with teammates over grounders. Fun stuff!

Tonight Blake went to Walmart to pick up a microphone to enhance the karaoke stage we're in. It turned in to one of his random purchase trips. The last time it happened, he went in for a box of Atkins low carb candy bars and ended up with a go-kart. Tonight he went in for the microphone, and he also bought a water slide and an acoustic guitar. He's sort of like Santa...in June!

Karaoke Anyone?

As Blake pursues his dream of becoming a famous country music star, we've started performing karaoke here at the house. We downloaded some karaoke software, but unfortunately we've only purchased one song. It's by Randy Travis and let's just say, I'm getting a little tired of it. We're thinking of having a karaoke party, but we'll probably need more than just the one song. Otherwise, it would be a really odd party. People would leave.

Oh - that reminds me of the time we used a karaoke machine at a women's ministry event at church and someone got the bright idea to let the women sing toward the end of the event. Have you ever been so completely traumatized that all you could do was smile and cry at the same time? Somewhere near the end of the 2nd verse of a performance of Stevie Nix's "Gypsy", I finally caught the eye of a fellow women's ministry leader. She had the same look on her face, but she was able to move her feet. She put a stop to the sacrilege, and all was well. Every time I hear that song, I start to giggle thinking about "Gypsy" being performed in Hope's sanctuary. To be honest - the girl that was singing was awesome - total rock star! Anywhere else...just not in the church. My Southern Baptist roots run deep.

Remember, always keep a song in your heart - it's karaoke for the voices in your head.

Rainy Night List

It's a rainy night, and I'm in a bit of a funk. I can't think of anything great to blog about, so here's a random list of things you really don't care about.
1. Our neighbors GAVE us a set of solid wood bunk beds. The kind with the built in desk and drawers! Mason has always wanted bunk beds but we wouldn't spring for them. Good thing, huh? We have such incredible foresight.
2. We have great neighbors. We aren't such great neighbors. We don't really know how to be social, so we just stay in the house a lot.
3. I love my minivan. Blake was right - as usual. It's getting great gas mileage, and I can enjoy such peace and quiet with all the kids spread out and not touching each other. I can even take it to the next level of peace by putting a DVD in!
4. Blake decided he wants to be a country music star. He's never had voice training, and he doesn't play any instruments. We bought some books at Barnes and Noble.
5. Without prodding, Marcus would stay in the basement and watch TV all day. I forgot he was here last Monday, and he was down there for 3 1/2 hours before I realized it.
6. A few months ago Mason watched about 10 minutes of Cops without me realizing it. The situation was brought to my attention when he came out and announced that if you don't wear your pants, the police will haul you off to jail.
7. Country music depresses me. If Blake does become a country music singer, things are going to be pretty ugly around here. I only listen to Contemporary Christian music. I won't hold my breath for his boot-wearin', behind-kickin', gun-shootin' self to join up with Phillips, Craig and Dean.
8. My brother is one of the coolest guys I know - next to my husband. He loves kids and they have this weird, instant bond with him...even tiny babies take to him. He's tough as nails. He can fix anything. He is generous to a fault. He works harder than anyone I know. He's an excellent shot - once he flipped a nickel in the air and shot right through it.
9. I have fall allergies - really, horrid fall allergies. The kind that require a shot every year. I've NEVER had spring allergies...until this year. Oh well - it gives me a good reason to stay in the house and avoid the neighbors.
10. I'm jealous that Blake has all the good hobbies. He races motorcycles, makes the coolest bowls on his wood lathe, collects knives and guns, and will soon be singing in Nashville.
11. OK - I wasn't going to write an 11th one, but I just read back through what I've typed and some of it's sort of sassy. Judges 5:31 says, "Those who love the Lord shine as the sun." I guess there's just a little cloud passing by right now!

Motherhood Is Not For Sissies

My very best friend in the world (30 years!), Karen, gave me a great book called Motherhood Is Not For Sissies. Here are some of my favorite quotes from the book along with a picture of me with Karen taken during our weekend at the Country Music Awards in Las Vegas last month.

I'm the blond one.....on the right.

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A mother is a person who, seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces that she never did care for pie.
-Tenneva Jordan

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Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing.
-Phyllis Diller

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If there were no schools to take the children away from home part of the time, the insane asylums would be filled with mothers.
-E.W. Howe