About Me

My Photo
New South Wales, Australia
I write to make people smile about the craziness of life with small people - because it IS crazy, no doubt. It is also wonderful.

Monday, August 31, 2015

The Truth Hurts

In a beautifully awful kind of way, it hurts. Rather like childbirth. The truth is painful, but it gives way to a new path, a new direction. 

Truth: I have not been caring for myself as I should. 
Truth: I am fairly certain I have had the flu.
Truth: It is taking forever to go away.
Truth: I am obese. 

These four truths, along with a few others which can't find words, have given birth to a new path for this tired mama. 

I need to be more intentional. It's not a new thing for me. I throw myself on the altar of motherhood, thinking that I'm doing the right thing, and in the end, it never works out. I am a hollow shell, going through the motions doing all the "right" things, but feeling empty inside. I say "yes" to every single whim of all five of my family members, thinking that it's what a good wife and mother is supposed to do, without stopping to consider that every "yes" has a corresponding "no". If I'm saying "yes" to every single request for my attention and focus that comes along (and with four children, there are a LOT of requests for my time and focus!), then I am saying "no" to God's requests for my time and attention. 

Saying "no" to God? Oops. 

When I am intentionally seeking God's will and guidance, and surrendering my own agenda, maybe All Of The Things won't get done - but I'm certain that the Best Of The Things will. 

In choosing to surrender my agenda to the Lord, it includes every bite of food I put into my mouth. Every choice I make to be active, or not. Running it past a filter of "does this help or hinder me as I try to live a life worthy of my calling?" 

Because in the end, I can do nothing in my own strength. 

Philippians 4:13


Monday, August 17, 2015

So. Many. Thoughts...

I've got an internal dialogue tonight which goes something like this: 

Gosh, I'm a bit worried about how little this child eats. Why doesn't she like food? Weird. I don't get it. How can I get her to love food? You know what? We all need to eat better. More vegetables, for sure. Isn't there a vitamin made for kids who don't eat veggies? Hmm. Must look into that. Next payday though, because I've just spent a fortune at the chemist on antibiotics and cold/flu remedies. Seriously, why do antibiotics have to cost the earth? Note to self: examine ingredients in pantry and make a dinner using chicken thigh fillets, potatoes, and brussels sprouts (which the kiddos will eat). I wonder if she'd eat the leaves of brussels sprouts raw, you know - like a cabbage? Like if it didn't actually resemble a sprout? Hmm. Also, have to get the kiddos on a better routine for dinner. School finishes at a weird different time here, which throws everything off. Please God, don't let it rain tomorrow at school/kindy times? We really need to gather some more kindling sticks, and if it's wet and windy out, I can't take Pip out of the house because of her chest infection. Hopefully those antibiotics will start working quickly, and she'll be able to go back to school on Wednesday. If I don't start getting some exercise and fresh air soon I will break. How did I get so out of habit with eating and exercise? Ugh. I feel so blergh. But hopefully soon I'll be walking more, and so will the kids. Poor Lachlan is in there watching Dexter all on his own, I should be watching it with him. But I also want to type out all this mental dialogue, so I can go to sleep with a quiet mind. Gosh, I hope Alex's ear doesn't leak on my pillow. So gross. I hope I made the right decision to patch him through the weekend with Panadol. How was I to know the eardrum would burst? Anyway, he's happier now (which is a good thing, because there were a few moments there when I wasn't sure how I would get through his irrational pain-fuelled anger at life in general) that the pressure behind the eardrum has been relieved. Speaking of relief, it's nice to have my desk available as a proper work surface. I'm slowly working toward getting it ready for University study (note to self: get certified electronic copies of documents so I can apply online for the programme). Oh, and organise the car for a service, ask about the rear reversing light, and see about the shock absorber repair. Ugh, it needs a good cleaning too - it smells like feet and farts in there. Which is weird, because we don't actually use it all that much here. Which is great, because I need to walk more. Exercise has really been sidelined lately, what with the whole Neverending Virus of Doom up in these parts. Maybe I'll inflate the exercise ball and do my Pilates routine? I've got to do SOMETHING, I mean I just feel so...OLD. Like 80, not 40. Maybe having all these little people doesn't keep me young but it ages me prematurely? Someone should look into that. Also, someone should look into why medicine for kids has to taste so vile. Why not, I don't know - pizza, or chocolate? I need to go to bed now, so I can get up early before the kiddos. I really hope they let me sleep reasonably, and don't cough all over me. Actually, maybe they'll be on the mend tomorrow and will move back to their own beds, and I can actually share the bed with my husband? That would be nice. Even if he does stick his fist under my lower back so I roll over when I snore. Which I probably do because I've been soooooo tired since, like 2006. Pshht. At least I make it look good. Or I think I do, which is kind of the same thing. Okay. I'm really going to bed now. After I straighten up these papers, and organise my space for the morning. And look up the website for this podcast I've been listening to. Then I'm really going to bed. What? What just happened to the last five minutes? Yuck, my mouth feels kind of furry. Don't forget my antibiotic! I'm kind of into Dexter, but NO. Must get to bed. Now. Good night. 

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Things For Which I Am Not to Blame

It's been a lengthy absence, I know. This family of mine keep me jumping, and it leaves little time for putting my words where my thoughts are. But I've just sent the children to read for thirty minutes, so I've got some time. 

Things have been going on in my world, things I can't control, things which have been rather stressful. All is well, dear friends, so do not worry. It's more that these things have inspired me to examine what goes on in my head. As such, I have compiled a list of things which are NOT MY FAULT.

1. Eczema/Allergies/Asthma. Even though it was a genetical probability, the fact that my children all have one (or all three) of these conditions - NOT MY FAULT. 
2. Respiratory viruses. Totally NOT MY FAULT, and in fact, I err on the side of caution in order to avoid spreading it to other children. 
3. Head Lice. NOT MY FAULT. Even if I suspect I am the "mother ship", I am quite thorough when treating this. 
4. Three year-old tantrummy angst. NOT MY FAULT!
5. Sibling rivalry. Also NOT MY FAULT!

I am a really good mum. I love my children passionately, and I am constantly seeking to do things better, to learn more about what makes them tick, to encourage them in their passions. I know that one has a special corner on her blanket that she likes to touch her face with when she's going to sleep. I know that another only likes cheese on sandwiches, not with crackers. I know just the right way to scratch this one's back, and I know that my son's favourite colour is currently red. I know the name of our resident imaginary friend (Leo), and that if I want the television turned off, I had better ask a specific child to do it, or I will have war. 

I know that in order to be a good wife and mother, I need to invest in myself; I need to invest nutritionally, physically, mentally, spiritually. The last few weeks have been draining, and I need to put something back in the tank. I am making this promise to that woman in the mirror, . That I will feed her good food, and love her with exercise, and I will make her needs a priority. I will care for her as well as I care for my family. Because she's part of this family, too.