overwhelmed

Quite often I am overwhelmed.  For about the last year I have been overwhelmed in a bad way.  Like, how on earth will this family make it clothed, fed, and loved for another day.  But lately, I've not felt that sort of overwhelmed.  Lately, I've been overwhelmed with thoughts of how I'm never really lonely.  How sweet and precious D is, and how I can't imagine life without him.  Even though every time he empties a cabinet I want to scream, but then he looks at me and smiles so proud of himself, and I want to take a picture just to remember his cute little face.  With the buck teeth.  And muppet hair.
I'm overwhelmed with how affectionate B is, despite me just freaking out on him for something.  He's always wanting a hug.  With how loving J is with his little brother.  Tells me he's HIS baby.  With how Q loves to help B with his homework, or to teach a younger brother to play monopoly jr and helps him count the spaces and money correctly.  Watching them all play anything outside makes me want to take a thousand pictures so I can't forget.  With watching Scott throw a football with them, and chase them down to tackle them.  How J laughs uncontrollably every time he has a football in his hand and runs.  The look of sheer joy on Q's face when he actually catches a pass.  And how dirty their knees get from getting tackled when wearing shorts.  I cannot get their knees clean with all the soap and scrubbing.  But I love that.  I LOVE it when my boys come in filthy from playing outside.  Always have.
How B gets so excited when it's an "off day" for everyone, "Yes! we can play!!"  That kid loves to play.  How J wakes up and tells me to put my jamma's back on.  And how that boy potty trained himself in a day (boy was that a gift!).
I am so overwhelmed with the blessings that God has lavished on me.  His love and grace.  I don't deserve any of it.  I take so much for granted.  But I'm so thankful.  Thankful for times of the good overwhelmed feelings that wash over me and make me smile.

Sometimes you have to chicken out.

This summer, I hired a babysitter to come once a week so I could grocery shop or run an errand or take a kid to the doctor without four children in tow.  It was a great idea on my part, and well worth the money.

Well, my beloved babysitter is off to college and could not help me this week.  So, I did the unthinkable.  I set out to take them all grocery shopping with me.  A full on, get it all done, all the groceries for the week-grocery shop.  It only took me an hour to convince myself that I could do it and that I should do it.  Even though I know from experience that I shouldn't do it, that its not worth it, and I'm running low on patience and sanity this week.  I vacillated between, we have enough food to last til the weekend when I can shop by myself, and no, we cannot eat the stale rice crispies and cheerios for breakfast, lunch and dinner (especially since the date on the box of rice crispies was 10/2012--I only buy those things for one reason: rice crispie treats, and I always forget to buy the marshmallows when I get the hankering for a treat).  Not that eating stale rice crispie treats is a horrible thing.  Plus, I didn't have the milk for cereal.  Did I mention that I keep 4 types of milk in my fridge at all times?  Its ridiculous.  Soy milk for the 3 boys.  Whole milk for D.  Lactose free milk for Scott and I (I am allergic to soy milk and I'm glad cause that stuff is gross), and buttermilk, and half and half.  The last two, I'll admit, are not necessary, but I refuse to drink coffee without half and half, and what's a good homemade pancake without buttermilk.  (yes, I know you can make it, and Scott does, but its better with real buttermilk, trust me).  Besides the milk, I didn't have any fruit or juice or anything else to keep you regular, and that's important.

So, yes, I decided that I should go shopping. With four children.  I was mentally preparing myself.  Then announced that everyone should find shoes and get in the car.  It took another 22 minutes for everyone to find shoes.  Then another 12 minutes for everyone to get outside.  Once outside, I had to yell at everyone that No, it wasn't time to ride bikes.  Put the bikes back.  Put the bikes back! Put the bikes back!!!!  Once I got everyone in the car and buckled, I stopped in the garage to collect myself and prayed.  Got in the car, drove to the store, pulled into the parking lot and parked.  Got out to look for that dreaded car shopping car.  The one you hate, but its necessary because you need to strap a two year old in and a 13month old in to a cart to commence shopping without losing a kid or harming one because they insist on buying a 2lb jar of gefilte fish or the $20 box of crayons that was conveniently right at his eye level and reach.  Well, I could not find the dreaded car cart.  I thought they might be inside the store, but I continued to think it out.  The following thoughts then arose and I had two options:

1. I could do this.  I could put D in the front pack, and J in the seat of a regular shopping cart.  This option came with way too many variables of terrible scenarios coming to mind.  All of which I had experienced with taking my four young boys to the store before.  The tantrums and fighting were the two most recent memories.  

2. I could do option 1, and shave a month or several years off my life or, I could go home and go shopping at night. Which, sounded like a much better plan.  

I chose option 2.  I rarely shop at night because I value my time with Scott pretty intensely.   I like spending time with him, and we have a busy schedule this week.  Also, I feel like I should be able to get the household stuff done during the day, since its my job and all.  But, today, I chose sanity for every party involved.  I also wanted to be able to shop my list and get what we needed.  One time I went shopping with just 2 kids and ended up coming home with 4 bags of cheese sticks and 6 boxes of mac n cheese that snuck past me somehow and forgot to buy vital items like milk and eggs.  And wondered why my grocery bill was $30 over.  

So, yes.  I chickened out.  I didn't go.  I remember when some friends of mine who had little kids told me that they refused to go grocery shopping with their kids, I would scoff at them.  I didn't get it then but I do now.  Oh how I get it now.  I still feel a little bit weak for not going.  I'm also judging myself and shaking my head.  But it IS the end of a long summer. Oddly, its only been 6 weeks, probably the shortest summer vacation in a long time, but man if I am not fantasizing about two of them being in school (another something I would judge moms about: "Don't you love spending time with your kids?")  Enduring a summer vacation with 4 boys at home is probably why I was absolutely giddy with excitement to go to the dentist yesterday for a tooth ache (and was much disappointed when I didn't have time to sit and look at a magazine in the waiting room).  

Who knew?  Shopping at 10pm is actually super nice.  It was like a retreat.  There wasn't even other shoppers there to get in my way.  And there were like 5 employees sitting around to ask where stuff was (my current store is under construction so I went to a new one).  Another added bonus to shopping at 10pm?  Coming home and having someone to help you bring in the groceries AND put them away.  A win-win.  

Yes, I chickened out, but I didn't lose my mind.   

(BTW. This whole post has spurred so many other topics in my mind: mainly:  How do you home school momma's do it? Really.  I cannot imagine.)  

A Birthday.

My dearest husband celebrated his birthday on Monday, and my boys had a great time preparing for his birthday.  I took them to Five Below to pick out birthday gifts for him and they purchased the following for him:
Q: A new set of ping pong paddles and balls.
B: Two brand new baseballs
J: ToyStory I DVD
D: A bouncy ball.
Well, the last two I'm not so sure they knew it was going to Daddy.  J pretty much is obsessed with Toy Story and during the winter months would ask to watch "Toys Stores" every day twice a day if I let him.  (not the whole movie, just bits and pieces).  When he found the DVD in the store, he wouldn't put it down.  Then when we got it home to wrap it, he wanted to unwrap it right away.  Poor kid wakes up and says "Today is my birthday?" Nope.  Sorry J.  He knows its in October.  He's got quite of few let downs coming in August (my mom's birthday and Q's and a couple cousins too).
D obviously isn't aware that it was Scott's birthday, he just loves bouncy balls.

They also got to pick out decorations for the 'party', which were skull and cross bones plates, cups and napkins.  B got to set the table and Q hung up the streamers and balloons.  They were very into it and so excited to show Daddy what they created when they got home.  I wish I had pictures, but I'm so harried, I forgot and then Q tore down all the decorations the next day before I even got out of bed.  Oh well.
Sunday night I had actually scheduled a babysitter so Scott and I could go out to dinner to celebrate.  We didn't leave til 7:30 and didn't get to our destination til 8pm.  We went to Gallo's which is in our old stomping grounds of NE Philly.  Well, its not a place known for hits hip young clientele. And actually, its frequented by OLD people, like in their 80's.  But Scott had a hankering for seafood so we went.  By the time we got there it was closed.  At 8pm! On a Sunday.  I had a suspecting that it would be, but didn't want to burst his bubble myself.  Scott was a bit sad that he wasn't going to get his pistachio crusted tilapia and fried zucchini for dinner, so, I made that for his birthday dinner.  Except I made pistachio crusted salmon instead.  The fried zucchini was awesome too.  The boys were a little sad that they didn't get to pick dinner (in fact they didn't eat it, they ate cereal bars.).  But I have to say, it was a delicious dinner.

I had actually had fore thought for his birthday (ie, about two days before his actual birthday--actually it was by a reminder of my mom on Thursday that she was sending a card to him, and I was like, what for?  Duh.  His birthday!) and bought birthday cards for him.  But I forgot about them and he didn't get them until Tuesday.  (Do you see the state of my mental capacities working here?)  I knew when his birthday was, I just didn't realize it was in less than a week.  Its the summer.  Everyday is the same.  I'm lucky if I know what day it is let alone the actual date?

But anyway.  Happy Birthday to my man.  Another year older. And better.  He keeps getting better with age :)

Ever wish for a frontal lobotomy?

Yes, a lobotomy.  Where they scramble the frontal lobe of your brain in hopes to change your personality.   Yes, that's what I want.  Sorta.  I get so sick of being a over thinking,grump.  I'd love to turn off that part of my brain now, please.   Or turn off that part of me thats just in such a fog and can't find the joy to choose it, to make myself feel like I'm in a  lovely contented place in my life.
*sigh*  Bleh, bleh bleh, whine whiney whine!
I just finished a week at VBS which was lots of fun for all of us.  Today we had big plans to go fishing and enjoy time together.  But the plans were soon turned into a work day at home, complete with a sanding and refinishing of the counter top.  Boooring! (It was necessary to ditch the fun plans because the B is sick).  But honestly, I'm struggling.  Not because I'm not getting to do what I want, but just to rise above this heavy weight of funk that seems really hard to shake.  It depends on the day, and the time of day sometimes, but it sucks and I want it gone.  I think it maybe a food thing, like too much sugar.  I spent the day yesterday over-indulging in junk and today it feels as if there is NO good in the world.  Even when there is.  Like how J just said to me, "I wuv you SOO much." And how B just was so overjoyed that I made him jello water and chicken noodle soup.  "This is the BEST dinner ever!" And I should just rejoice in the fact that no one has fought today.  And that Q was so sweet and helpful for B at 6 in the morning, that I wanted to cry.  Seriously, my sister never emptied my barf bucket for me and got me a drink.  They really are good little boys.  And I see the good.  I just cannot shake the fog today.  Maybe its from disrupted sleep.  Or I'm in the middle of some spiritual warfare.  Maybe both.
We talked a lot about spiritual warfare this week in VBS.  It was all about the armor of God and how we need to arm ourselves for battle.  I'm in it today baby!  Struggling to fight the enemy's lies that I suck and will never be a good mom, or wife, or lose weight, etc.  
Truth is, I'm in this battle, have been for a while.  I used to feel so connected to God's power and spirit and felt invincible.  In fact, when I started blogging like 4 years ago, I titled it Living on the Vine and I felt so convicted to blog about my journey and how God was working in my life.  I heard his voice (not like in a crazy hearing real voices sort of way), but He spoke to me so clearly through His Word that I was reading on a regular basis.  And that's just it. WAS.  I'm not in the Word.  I'm not connecting to the Vine.  I'm not remaining in Him, and I am feeling alone.  I'm sure the devil has me where he wants me. or NOT No.  Not quite.
So, here I go.  Back to battle.  I will arm myself today, right now!

Finally, Be Strong in the LORD and in His mighty power.  Put on the full armor of God, so that you may take your stand against the devils schemes.  Eph. 6:10-11

My Baby is One. A letter to the Youngest.

One year.  He's so old.  I'm mostly sad that this year has flown by.  I have very few pictures of this boy.  And I have guilt about that.  I'm sorry smallest one.  I swore it wouldn't happen, but yes, there are significantly less pictures of you than Q.
But little D, you are a sweet sweet boy.  You have a great, easy going disposition, and for that I am thankful and grateful, and glad.  You're so laid back, you're milestones aren't exactly hit on schedule. But I know you're good, and you'll point and speak with ease in a matter of time.  J didn't talk at all till he was two, so maybe you won't say more than "ball" and "bye!" for a while longer.  You're great at playing on your own, and have recently started to hold your own when a big brother steals your ball.  Just like Q, you love all things balls.
I've been quite reminiscent of you and your birth these last couple weeks or so.  I remember lots about you.  Like when they were cutting through me during the c-section, they were surprised to see a 'uterine window' where my uterus was stretched so thin, they could see you through it.  And how they told me both you and I were so lucky I didn't go into labor.  It would have been bad for both of us.  And I think of how God protected us both by putting me on restricted activity months before (when we were trying to pack and move), to keep the constant contractions that I was having too soon, at bay.  I also remember remarking at how much hair you had when you were first born and how you were the only one who got direct skin to skin time with me almost right away.  That was a precious time.  You were very alert and got right to eating.  You're the only one who didn't have any issues eating.  Hooray!

I remember worrying so much before you were born.  I worried that I would completely lose my mind with 3 boys and a new baby and a new house.  I worried that J would hate me and you.  I worried that I wouldn't ever leave the house and that you wouldn't sleep.  And I have to say that while some on my worry list did come true, they haven't killed me.  Yes, I rarely leave the house alone with everyone, J did hate me for a few weeks, and during some moments, my mind has been lost.  But God has proven mighty and good and I have not been overcome by any of these things.  You are a sweet boy, and I know God has blessed me beyond the times of overwhelmedness, and is still working in me.  You are a joy in our house, and everyone loves you.  The big brothers are sweet to you.  J calls you his baby or 'his D'.  He asks to play with you.  Q and B fight who gets to hold you.  Its sweet.  I pray it remains.
At one year old:

You can crawl now, and pull up to stand.  You sleep the night and have eight teeth.  You sometimes eat a ton, but sometimes not.  You suck your thumb, but only in bed.  And you've recently decided that other people besides me and Daddy are OK.  I took you to VBS today, and you didn't cling to me and cry when I dropped you off in the nursery.  It only made me a little sad.
You loved the beach on vacation and didn't mind to eat buckets of sand.  You do not care for pools.  You love to be outside and sit in the grass.  If I am holding you near the door or window, you like to whine until I submit and take you outside.  I like to call you nature boy.
I like to sit and look at you and think of who you'll grow up to be like.   I pray you will be like your name sake and be different and fear God, not man.  To have great faith and chose right and obey God even when it is difficult.
Happy birthday!!

Summer Repeats

Last Summer, or maybe the summer before, I wrote a post about the first day of summer vacation with Q home from school (and how bad it sucked).  I get all excited about summer vaction and have all these hopes and dreams.  Oh, its so  funny.  (and just read my two posts back on summer vacation).  This year, as April approached, I started to get nervous.  Cause I vaguely remember the last two summers and how I had such high hopes and how they came crashing to rather large explosion of crushed expectations.  The first few days of summer vacation always tank.  Like, hard core.  This year did not disappoint.  Monday was awful. The fighting! The messes!  The whining! I have to say, I didn't help things and was a whiny hiney myself.  Tuesday was probably just as bad, but I took some initiative to get out of the house and made plans NOT to make dinner.  Which helped tremendously.   I like not having to make and clean up dinner.  We went to Chick-fil-a and it was actually relaxing, and I fed everyone for $20.39.  And they all ate it, HAPPILY.  There's something to be said for that.

In order to not let this summer go down like last summer, I'm trying to have a plan.  Last summer we literally did nothing but move, unpack, introduce a new baby to the family and swim lessons. (that sounds like a lot).   Seriously, I don't think we left the house much at all.  And we certainly didn't go on vacation.  My grandiose summer plans include check lists, and earning tickets and some school refresher courses (cause B still cannot write his whole name and Q needs to read more). Actually leaving the house.  And challenges.  Lots of them.  There are "mini challenges" every week day, if they chose to complete them are worth tickets.  Today's challenge is building a lego house.  I've designed the challenges to inspire them to do more than the challenge, to get the imagination ball rolling.   I have to say,  I have enjoyed making the plan and the charts and stuff.  The implementing, is not going as well.  The boys have grown accustomed to watching t.v. a lot on Saturdays and not having to do anything that requires, uh, being responsible or anything resembling work. Which isn't good.  I know.  I often would rather do stuff myself than listen to the arguing and whining that goes on when I insist on someone helping.  (So rest assured, I have a system for that).  Ha ha!  Oh the whining. My mother must be delighting in herself.  I recall her once wishing that I would have children that would possess my stellar whining skills.

As these things go, it will probably work for about a week, and then the novelty will wear off.  Probably.  But as for now, I have one kid dusting my baseboards and the other is brushing his teeth and not complaining about it.  So I'll take it.
And hopefully will have more moments like this:

All of us together, having a good time.

It is starting to get harder.  Little boys are rough and tumble.  And I like that.  I like that they skin a knee, seek comfort for about 2 minutes and then are on to the next thing.  For the past 7 years, this has been my norm.  Their little egos seem to only be bruised for a short time as well.  Until now.  This year has been a difficult one for my sweet oldest boy.  I carry such momma's guilt for him right now.  We moved one year ago, and he was a little bit sad about saying good bye to his friends at his old school.  We only moved about 2 minutes from our old place, but it was far enough for him to be sent to a new school.  This new school, it gets the job done.  But I miss the old, small school, which seemed cozy and more nurturing.  In this past year, Q has endured the following:

• Within the first month of school, someone stole his new Angry Birds Lunch Box. 
• Within the first two months of school, someone stole his very best Bey Blade. 
• At Christmastime, someone stole ALL of his secret shop gifts which he purchased for us, and was soooo excited to tell me about the day he bought them.  When he discovered they weren't in his bag, he was crushed.  But was sure they'd be in his class the next day.  They weren't.  Another girl in his class took them, then gave them all away on her school bus that day.  Her mother sent in money so he could reshop for his items.  By the time he got to re-shop, the original gifts he had bought were no longer available.  Talk about a crappy thing to do.  I couldn't explain it to him, but we talked about forgiveness, which he seemed to readily give.
• Then his 'friends' formed a club and wouldn't let him in it.  It was a club for kids who played certain on-line games and video games.  Something we do not allow him to play.  But the kids wouldn't play with him anymore, and declared him not their friends.  This incident had us both in tears.  
• Our school district decided to re-district and his very best friend in 2nd grade will not be returning.  My boy went to bed weeping. And my heart aches for him.  I know he'll get over it, eventually.  But he was so mopey today, and if he had a second to stop and think, he'd cry.  I've never seen him carry a sadness like this for so long.  His two minutes of sad has stretched in to a whole day.  Its hard for me to watch.  And for the first time, I can't fix it.  I can't make it better.  When I asked him what I could do to make it better, he simply said, "nothing."  

This is what people mean when they say I'm in the easiest stage of life right now with my little ones.  They're easy to comfort, nothing a little kiss and a snuggle won't fix.  They're easy to please with some home made cookies and backyard games.  Popsicles and lollipops.  A T.V. show and a special snack.  Now, the problems start to get a little more complicated.  Their little hurts last longer, and are more difficult to help, or not help.  My own behavior toward my oldest also seems to effect him more and for a longer period of time.  I had to discipline him last week, and did so by taking away computer privileges, and he was MAD at me.  Like didn't talk to me for two days.  Was sullen and withdrawn from me, and I hated it!.  What's that about?  Today, I had it out with B, in a huge battle of the wills which lasted a long time, and resulted in him calling me 'bad' and 'mean'.  But when I tucked B in bed tonight, the best part of his day was "You mom."  Really kid?  You don't remember that hour of time out and screaming?  But I'll take it.   And yes, I'd like time to stand still a little bit longer for my Q.  Watching him realize that people suck, well, its sucks.  

I can feel this getting more difficult.  I'm feeling a tiny bit unprepared, and unqualified.  And I feel the need to pray more and more for my kids, and wisdom for Scott and I.