I hate my legs.
Not like oh, I wish my legs were 3% thinner. I am truly embarrassed to claim my legs as part of my body.
I used to wear jeans year-round. Even in the heat of summer. I eventually got bold and moved up to capris. Look out!
Last summer my friend Michele pumped up my confidence enough and convinced me to wear shorts. I went to Walmart and bought about four pairs of shorts in different colors. I wore them daily, even though it felt as wrong as if I was walking around shirtless.
You see, my legs aren't exactly like the other legs I know. My legs have pockets of fat that don't even exist on other legs. I'm fairly certain my legs have different genetic code than all the other legs walking around on this earth. Even when I was at my verrrrrry thinnest, my legs were still made up of lumpy, bumpy, squishy matter.
I have tried diet and exercise. I have toned and squeezed. I've tried self-tanner to cover these jiggle sticks, but nothing seems to change what I'm working with.
Perhaps it would be prudent for me to share the fact that my older sister has great legs. Not just great. Killer legs. She and my brother could have a calf-off and they literally have. They are toned and muscular and shapely. My sister tans very well and my brother is hairy, so I'm the only one walking around with ghost legs. These people were drawn out of the same gene pool as I was, and yet my legs just don't match theirs.
I realized the other day, while trying to decide if I'd rather roast in pants or expose my deformed limbs in shorts, that I just haven't seen other legs like mine. Celebrities don't have these bad boys. The other moms at my kids' schools aren't shaped like me. Even my plus size friends have super toned legs.
So I guess it boils down to feeling like the oddball. I'm different than everyone else in a way that I already don't like. I mean, why couldn't I be different in a way that's super awesome?
I've accepted that I'll never wear a two-piece swimsuit ever again. I've accepted that I have more wrinkles than all my older friends and that I have to fill in my eyebrows with a pencil. But I just can't seem to accept these darn things that have the audacity to call themselves legs.
I've worried about how my views of my legs will affect my daughter, but I've seen her legs and they're fantastic. Thank heavens. I'll have to teach her to love her long and lean perfect body in a "do as I say, not as I do" sort of way.
We will soon be going on a family vacation. To Florida. Where people wear shorts all the time. We will be vacationing with my stick-thin sister-in-law, my cousin who has been a life long dancer (read: fantastic body), and my aforementioned sister. There will be swimsuits involved. I couldn't seem to find a swimsuit with pants, so I had to settle for a skirt. It's not even a maxi skirt.
I so badly want to enjoy this vacation with my family, and I will. I just know it. I don't want to be distracted by body image issues. This will be a mental battle for sure. But it's one I intend to win. My kids are worth it, and they deserve a mom who is having fun with them and not one who is wearing a robe on the daily.
It would be so cool if this next paragraph contained my mind-blowing wisdom about how to love your body for all it can do and because it is fearfully and wonderfully made. Actually I do thank God quite often for what my body can do. I can walk without any pain. I could run if my children's lives were in peril. I'm tall enough to reach all sorts of things. I can drive myself and park wherever there's a spot, and these cottage cheese gams make it all possible. I'm thankful for what I can do, but I'm still not a fan of how I look doing it.
Maybe you have something about your body that genuinely bothers you. Not just the little insecurities of wondering if your hair looks frizzy or if your shirt shows that weird back fat indent that women get from their bras. I mean maybe you base your whole wardrobe around part of you that you deem strictly unacceptable. We can get through this together.
Maybe our deformities keep us humble. Maybe they keep us grounded and help us look past physical appearance. Or maybe I'm just still learning how to grow out of body issues. Maybe I'll be brave enough to wear shorts, and another woman will see that I'm letting my imperfections show and so can she.
That's what I'll be telling myself in Florida.
Jessica
Ramblings about life, crafts, and leaving well-enough alone
Showing posts with label perfectionism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label perfectionism. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 6, 2018
Sunday, April 29, 2018
Jenga Straws
I couldn't hold my emotions in anymore. I got up from my work chair, leaving it spinning as I stood too quickly, and went into the tiny bathroom adjacent to the patient therapy room.
As soon as I closed the door behind me, I cried. I gave in and let the tears flow. My face did that squished up unattractive thing. I pressed a tissue just below my eyes to soak up any dripping mascara. I didn't need to have my makeup cried off so everyone could see what a hard time I was having AND how my undereye regions look like someone with a terminal illness.
It wasn't that something awful had just happened. It had been building all week. I kept thinking about the phrase "the straw that broke the camel's back." I had been carrying a load of straws, and the final one had just been placed on top.
I actually felt like I had been playing a game of Jenga with my straws all week. My pile of straws included things like my 8-year-old daughter with a broken leg, my boys surviving middle school, my stomach refusing to just freaking digest food, my messy house, our family calendar, increasing migraines, my body image, and all the normal things that a part-time working mother of three balances.
These straws were constantly shifting, and new ones were thrown on the stack.
I cleaned my messy house in an attempt to clear my mind, and within that very day, my lovely children turned my house into a national disaster. I have been faithfully working out to a specific 90-day fitness system, making sure to get in at least 4 one-hour workouts per week. This week I hit the 30-day mark and weighed in. I weighed exactly the same as I did at the start. Exactly. I lost 0.0 lbs.
I eat gluten-free and take specific supplements in an effort to help my ridiculous stomach digest normally, but this week my stomach has been especially painful and nauseated. I haven't been sleeping well, and I have no idea why.
I just felt like none of my efforts were making any difference in any area of my life.
On the plus side, I had been doing well taking care of Nora. Her broken leg required help in all sorts of ways that I couldn't have anticipated ahead of time. We had hit our groove with school. I had a good handle on how to get myself ready for work as well as getting her ready for school each morning. On the day I ended up crying in the bathroom at work, everything had started fine. We got the boys to their school and got to Nora's school a little early. I walked her in (she's on crutches) and carried her back pack. I helped her to her desk and propped her foot on the extra chair and pillow I had made her. I put her lunch in the basket and her folder in the bin. I handed her the activity book I had remembered to bring for her to entertain herself while she waited for her classmates to arrive. I checked my watch and felt good that I had exactly enough time to get to work on time. As I bent down to kiss her goodbye, the principal walked into the room.
I had met with Nora's principal, teacher, and school nurse earlier in the week when she first returned to school. We discussed any accommodations she might need, what the schedule would look like, how I would help her in and out of school each day. I felt so blessed that my daughter attends an amazing school with such caring staff. These three women were so kind and so willing to do whatever was necessary to help my girl.
But on this day, the principal was coming in to let me know that I needed to start walking Nora just inside the school and leaving her on a bench there to wait for someone else to help her to her room. She said we couldn't be in the classroom "unsupervised" in the mornings. I was confused. And flustered. She was so sweet and delivered her message like she was telling me my outfit was cute. Nonetheless, I started to stress sweat immediately. All I heard her say was, "You're doing it wrong." I had to get out of there.
I felt the sensation of the last straw landing on the pile.
I arrived at work 5 minutes late. I am never late. And I walked in at the exact same time as my boss, so he definitely saw me arrive late. There were already two patients in the waiting room and the phone was ringing. I tried to switch from Mom Mode to Work Mode, but my emotions were already spilling over. Thus I ended up crying in the bathroom at work.
As I reprocess all of this now, I realize that I had let a lot of things beat me up during the week. People's words, my thoughts, numbers on scales and tags, circumstances. Not only did I have bruises and fractures from receiving the blows, but I also had bloody knuckles from taking my own shots.
I think a lot of the thoughts that swirl around in my mind are coated in my own misconceptions and insecurities. It's time for them to take a little bath in truth. My house is messy, but it doesn't mean I'm a bad wife.It means my family members suck at picking up after themselves. It means we could all do a better job picking up after ourselves, and it's not all my responsibility. I haven't lost any weight, but maybe my heart is healthier from my exercise. My stomach is a constant source of pain and frustration. I am doing the best I can to make good food choices, and some days are good. I'm a super rule follower, and I never intentionally went against any of the arrangements we had made with Nora's school. The principal has a responsibility to manage the school just like I have a responsibility to manage my kids.
Nora's leg will heal. Some days my house will be clean and I'll feel good. Some days I'll take my chubby hindquarters into the work bathroom to cry while my stomach hurts and I remember someone's critical words. The beauty is that I get to start fresh each morning. Sometimes I don't even have to wait for the next morning.
After I finished my ugly cry and wiped my face, I came back out to my workstation. I took a few breaths in and out. I turned to my coworker and said, "Morning: take two. How are you today?"
Jessica
As soon as I closed the door behind me, I cried. I gave in and let the tears flow. My face did that squished up unattractive thing. I pressed a tissue just below my eyes to soak up any dripping mascara. I didn't need to have my makeup cried off so everyone could see what a hard time I was having AND how my undereye regions look like someone with a terminal illness.
It wasn't that something awful had just happened. It had been building all week. I kept thinking about the phrase "the straw that broke the camel's back." I had been carrying a load of straws, and the final one had just been placed on top.
I actually felt like I had been playing a game of Jenga with my straws all week. My pile of straws included things like my 8-year-old daughter with a broken leg, my boys surviving middle school, my stomach refusing to just freaking digest food, my messy house, our family calendar, increasing migraines, my body image, and all the normal things that a part-time working mother of three balances.
These straws were constantly shifting, and new ones were thrown on the stack.
I cleaned my messy house in an attempt to clear my mind, and within that very day, my lovely children turned my house into a national disaster. I have been faithfully working out to a specific 90-day fitness system, making sure to get in at least 4 one-hour workouts per week. This week I hit the 30-day mark and weighed in. I weighed exactly the same as I did at the start. Exactly. I lost 0.0 lbs.
I eat gluten-free and take specific supplements in an effort to help my ridiculous stomach digest normally, but this week my stomach has been especially painful and nauseated. I haven't been sleeping well, and I have no idea why.
I just felt like none of my efforts were making any difference in any area of my life.
On the plus side, I had been doing well taking care of Nora. Her broken leg required help in all sorts of ways that I couldn't have anticipated ahead of time. We had hit our groove with school. I had a good handle on how to get myself ready for work as well as getting her ready for school each morning. On the day I ended up crying in the bathroom at work, everything had started fine. We got the boys to their school and got to Nora's school a little early. I walked her in (she's on crutches) and carried her back pack. I helped her to her desk and propped her foot on the extra chair and pillow I had made her. I put her lunch in the basket and her folder in the bin. I handed her the activity book I had remembered to bring for her to entertain herself while she waited for her classmates to arrive. I checked my watch and felt good that I had exactly enough time to get to work on time. As I bent down to kiss her goodbye, the principal walked into the room.
I had met with Nora's principal, teacher, and school nurse earlier in the week when she first returned to school. We discussed any accommodations she might need, what the schedule would look like, how I would help her in and out of school each day. I felt so blessed that my daughter attends an amazing school with such caring staff. These three women were so kind and so willing to do whatever was necessary to help my girl.
But on this day, the principal was coming in to let me know that I needed to start walking Nora just inside the school and leaving her on a bench there to wait for someone else to help her to her room. She said we couldn't be in the classroom "unsupervised" in the mornings. I was confused. And flustered. She was so sweet and delivered her message like she was telling me my outfit was cute. Nonetheless, I started to stress sweat immediately. All I heard her say was, "You're doing it wrong." I had to get out of there.
I felt the sensation of the last straw landing on the pile.
I arrived at work 5 minutes late. I am never late. And I walked in at the exact same time as my boss, so he definitely saw me arrive late. There were already two patients in the waiting room and the phone was ringing. I tried to switch from Mom Mode to Work Mode, but my emotions were already spilling over. Thus I ended up crying in the bathroom at work.
As I reprocess all of this now, I realize that I had let a lot of things beat me up during the week. People's words, my thoughts, numbers on scales and tags, circumstances. Not only did I have bruises and fractures from receiving the blows, but I also had bloody knuckles from taking my own shots.
I think a lot of the thoughts that swirl around in my mind are coated in my own misconceptions and insecurities. It's time for them to take a little bath in truth. My house is messy, but it doesn't mean I'm a bad wife.
Nora's leg will heal. Some days my house will be clean and I'll feel good. Some days I'll take my chubby hindquarters into the work bathroom to cry while my stomach hurts and I remember someone's critical words. The beauty is that I get to start fresh each morning. Sometimes I don't even have to wait for the next morning.
After I finished my ugly cry and wiped my face, I came back out to my workstation. I took a few breaths in and out. I turned to my coworker and said, "Morning: take two. How are you today?"
Jessica
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Where's the Line?
There are a lot of things about my appearance that I would change if I could. I have about five short eyelashes total. My skin has mysteriously aged much more quickly than the simple passing of time. Four year ago when I lost a bunch of weight, my hair started coming out by the handfuls, and it hasn't recovered even to this day. Don't even get me started on my actual body (saddle bags, chunky calves, droopy chest).
There are some things I can do to improve my appearance. I color my hair to hide my grays. I try to style my hair in a way that covers the thinnest spots. I combined a sale and a big coupon to buy Crest White Strips for my teeth, but they didn't actually seem to make a difference. I buy concealers, foundations, powders, blushes, bronzers, primers, anti-aging moisturizers, and under-eye creams. I'm not sure that any of these products actually help any of my "problems," but they at least mask them so I can try not to think about them when I'm with other people.
A friend of mine recently opened my eyes to an entirely new realm of possibilities. She has contraptions and products I hadn't even heard of before. She uses some sort of light-up device to instantly whiten her teeth. She uses a needle roller on her face and stomach before applying special skin-tightening serums. She uses a boar hair brush on her body and an expensive rotating brush on her face. She has special beauty masks and hair products. I always admire her abundantly long eye lashes, and she recently told me that she uses Latisse to make them grow. She has had the one surgical procedure I would actually consider to improve my body. She has even tried Botox. She has special nutritional drinks that give her energy for her daily workouts.
When I found out the full extent of what this friend does to enhance her appearance, I started wrestling with something in my own mind. Then I went to a hair appointment last week. My stylist was baffled as to why my hair will not stop thinning and barely grows. She strongly encouraged me to try a particular line of hair care products. They cost $99 for a set of shampoo, conditioner, and hair mask.
I've been looking over all these newfound options and wondering what could be beneficial to me. Some of these products, gadgets, and procedures could actually make me look better. Looking better could make me feel better about myself.
But I've really been wrestling with this question: Where is the line between self-improvement and vanity?
I think it's okay to wear makeup to hide flaws and accentuate features. I think every woman should find hair products that work with her natural hair type. There are ways to dress any body shape to accentuate the good and downplay the not-so-good. I protect my skin from UV damage and try to slow the formation of wrinkles (apparently unsuccessfully). Freshly painted nails make me happy, so I get a cheap thrill from a new polish (at home, not even at a salon).
So where are my boundaries? How much of this new stuff can I try before I have officially moved into the land of vanity. What will help me focus less on my flaws and what will make me focus too much on my appearance?
I don't think there's a clear answer to any of these questions. But I needed an answer so I came up with a couple of new questions to aid in my decisions.
1. What is my budget?
This is fairly simple. I shouldn't buy anything that I don't have money for. It was only a few years ago that we struggled to buy basic necessities for our kids. We very rarely ever bought anything for ourselves. As Jared has been promoted, and we have done our best to make smart financial decisions, we finally have a little extra to spend on wants rather than needs. So we are still learning how to manage our wants.
I buy concealer from Ulta but powder from Walmart. I alternate between expensive salon-brand shampoo/conditioner and inexpensive shampoo/conditioner from the drug store. I can buy new jeans when my old ones are worn (or are too tight...ugh), but I can't just pick up a new pair of shoes because they are cute.
So the very first test of whether a new item fits into my beauty routine is whether or not there is room in our budget to pay the price.
2. What is my motivation?
Even if I can buy something, that doesn't necessarily mean that I should. I need to look at why I want the item.
When I lost all that weight four years ago, I wasn't trying to look good. I didn't want attention for my new body. I actually wanted the opposite. I was so consumed by feeling unhappy with my overweight body that it overshadowed everything that I did all day long. I felt fat as I volunteered at the school. I was heavy playing with my kids. I was chubby whenever I had to speak in front of a group. I decided to lose weight so I could STOP thinking about my size. I wanted to be able to focus on life again, rather than constantly focusing on my body image.
So, do I want my skin to look better so people will admire it or so I will actually look my age (and not my mother's)? Do I want my hair to fill back in so I'll get compliments or so I can stop vacuuming stray hairs daily and feeling like I should join Hair Club for Men?
I can honestly say that I have a couple of insecurities that probably just need to be released. I need to embrace some of my imperfections as just how I'm made. But there are also a couple things that really could be improved in order to free up some mental space and allow me to focus on more important things.
For me, the Botox is outside the line. I don't know that I'll be rolling needles over my face anytime soon. But I just may try that expensive shampoo and conditioner just in case they'll keep me from having my grandpa's hairline. And I still can't shake the desire I've had since high school to have one particular surgery (hint: puberty hit me early and hard, and I nursed three babies, and now I have a lot of back and shoulder pain).
I think each person has to find their own boundaries. I really don't think many people have the exact same lists of what's acceptable and what's ridiculous. I keep thinking of 1 Corinthians 10:23, which says, "'Everything is permissible,' but not everything is beneficial. 'Everything is permissible,' but not everything is constructive.'"
Using fancy contraptions and products is not forbidden, but it might not be the best use of time, money, energy, and focus. So each of us must look at our own motivations and budgets and decide where our line is.
Jessica
There are some things I can do to improve my appearance. I color my hair to hide my grays. I try to style my hair in a way that covers the thinnest spots. I combined a sale and a big coupon to buy Crest White Strips for my teeth, but they didn't actually seem to make a difference. I buy concealers, foundations, powders, blushes, bronzers, primers, anti-aging moisturizers, and under-eye creams. I'm not sure that any of these products actually help any of my "problems," but they at least mask them so I can try not to think about them when I'm with other people.
A friend of mine recently opened my eyes to an entirely new realm of possibilities. She has contraptions and products I hadn't even heard of before. She uses some sort of light-up device to instantly whiten her teeth. She uses a needle roller on her face and stomach before applying special skin-tightening serums. She uses a boar hair brush on her body and an expensive rotating brush on her face. She has special beauty masks and hair products. I always admire her abundantly long eye lashes, and she recently told me that she uses Latisse to make them grow. She has had the one surgical procedure I would actually consider to improve my body. She has even tried Botox. She has special nutritional drinks that give her energy for her daily workouts.
When I found out the full extent of what this friend does to enhance her appearance, I started wrestling with something in my own mind. Then I went to a hair appointment last week. My stylist was baffled as to why my hair will not stop thinning and barely grows. She strongly encouraged me to try a particular line of hair care products. They cost $99 for a set of shampoo, conditioner, and hair mask.
I've been looking over all these newfound options and wondering what could be beneficial to me. Some of these products, gadgets, and procedures could actually make me look better. Looking better could make me feel better about myself.
But I've really been wrestling with this question: Where is the line between self-improvement and vanity?
I think it's okay to wear makeup to hide flaws and accentuate features. I think every woman should find hair products that work with her natural hair type. There are ways to dress any body shape to accentuate the good and downplay the not-so-good. I protect my skin from UV damage and try to slow the formation of wrinkles (apparently unsuccessfully). Freshly painted nails make me happy, so I get a cheap thrill from a new polish (at home, not even at a salon).
So where are my boundaries? How much of this new stuff can I try before I have officially moved into the land of vanity. What will help me focus less on my flaws and what will make me focus too much on my appearance?
I don't think there's a clear answer to any of these questions. But I needed an answer so I came up with a couple of new questions to aid in my decisions.
1. What is my budget?
This is fairly simple. I shouldn't buy anything that I don't have money for. It was only a few years ago that we struggled to buy basic necessities for our kids. We very rarely ever bought anything for ourselves. As Jared has been promoted, and we have done our best to make smart financial decisions, we finally have a little extra to spend on wants rather than needs. So we are still learning how to manage our wants.
I buy concealer from Ulta but powder from Walmart. I alternate between expensive salon-brand shampoo/conditioner and inexpensive shampoo/conditioner from the drug store. I can buy new jeans when my old ones are worn (or are too tight...ugh), but I can't just pick up a new pair of shoes because they are cute.
So the very first test of whether a new item fits into my beauty routine is whether or not there is room in our budget to pay the price.
2. What is my motivation?
Even if I can buy something, that doesn't necessarily mean that I should. I need to look at why I want the item.
When I lost all that weight four years ago, I wasn't trying to look good. I didn't want attention for my new body. I actually wanted the opposite. I was so consumed by feeling unhappy with my overweight body that it overshadowed everything that I did all day long. I felt fat as I volunteered at the school. I was heavy playing with my kids. I was chubby whenever I had to speak in front of a group. I decided to lose weight so I could STOP thinking about my size. I wanted to be able to focus on life again, rather than constantly focusing on my body image.
So, do I want my skin to look better so people will admire it or so I will actually look my age (and not my mother's)? Do I want my hair to fill back in so I'll get compliments or so I can stop vacuuming stray hairs daily and feeling like I should join Hair Club for Men?
I can honestly say that I have a couple of insecurities that probably just need to be released. I need to embrace some of my imperfections as just how I'm made. But there are also a couple things that really could be improved in order to free up some mental space and allow me to focus on more important things.
For me, the Botox is outside the line. I don't know that I'll be rolling needles over my face anytime soon. But I just may try that expensive shampoo and conditioner just in case they'll keep me from having my grandpa's hairline. And I still can't shake the desire I've had since high school to have one particular surgery (hint: puberty hit me early and hard, and I nursed three babies, and now I have a lot of back and shoulder pain).
I think each person has to find their own boundaries. I really don't think many people have the exact same lists of what's acceptable and what's ridiculous. I keep thinking of 1 Corinthians 10:23, which says, "'Everything is permissible,' but not everything is beneficial. 'Everything is permissible,' but not everything is constructive.'"
Using fancy contraptions and products is not forbidden, but it might not be the best use of time, money, energy, and focus. So each of us must look at our own motivations and budgets and decide where our line is.
Jessica
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Not So Shiny
My cousin Elizabeth, who is a dear friend and fellow blogger, insisted that I write about this. So I blame her for the knot in my stomach.
Just kidding.
About the blame, not the stomach.
As the name of my blog suggests, I am a perfectionist by nature but I try to fight that nature in order to be something that resembles healthy. I don't want to give in fully to that constant pull to strive for unattainable perfection. But when I'm not actively fighting against it, it pulls me in closer.
One by one, I've had to let go of things I once saw as "perfect." I'm not the perfect mom. I'm not the perfect housekeeper. I'm not the perfect chef or baker. My kids do not have perfect discipline records. Even my perfect grades in college are meaningless now.
Well, yesterday I had to let go of one more perfect thing: my perfect driving record.
I've had my license for 17 years (go ahead and do the math). I've never even been pulled over. No parking tickets. No fender benders. No red lights run or even an expired license plate tag. I've had a shiny, perfect driving record. And I felt proud of it. Which is probably why it needed to be pried from my kung fu grip.
Here's the kicker. Not only was I in a car accident yesterday, but I caused the accident. Embarrassed doesn't even begin to describe how I felt (feel). I was also so confused. I am such a careful driver that I'm baffled as to how this even happened. My dad says they're called "accidents" for a reason.
I won't bore you with the details, mostly because it still stings to recount them. The main points are: I didn't see a car, I hit said car, all parties involved were unharmed, I had Nora in the car with me, Nora was scared at first but then practiced handstands in the grass while I talked to the police officer, the other car had to be towed as a precaution but was basically driveable, my car is driveable but we are not to drive it until the insurance adjuster comes out. Oh, and I cried. A lot. The middle-aged male police officer wasn't quite sure what to do with a crying woman.
The accident happened while I was on my way to pick up our new dining chairs. I never got the chairs. That's a worry for a different day. I'll need to borrow a truck (and have someone else drive as I am not emotionally ready) or beg Pier 1 to hold them longer due to extenuating circumstances.
So today I'm nursing an exhausted body and a bruised ego. It's back to life as usual with school, the last dance class before this weekend's big recital, babysitting the two kids I care for everyday, taking care of the house and laundry and meals, etc. Only it has to be done with one car between Jared, me, and five kids. We're working it out.
I'm so grateful that no one was hurt, and I'm trusting God to make something out of the rest of the mess. And now that my secret is out, maybe it'll stop stinging so much.
Jessica
Just kidding.
About the blame, not the stomach.
As the name of my blog suggests, I am a perfectionist by nature but I try to fight that nature in order to be something that resembles healthy. I don't want to give in fully to that constant pull to strive for unattainable perfection. But when I'm not actively fighting against it, it pulls me in closer.
One by one, I've had to let go of things I once saw as "perfect." I'm not the perfect mom. I'm not the perfect housekeeper. I'm not the perfect chef or baker. My kids do not have perfect discipline records. Even my perfect grades in college are meaningless now.
Well, yesterday I had to let go of one more perfect thing: my perfect driving record.
I've had my license for 17 years (go ahead and do the math). I've never even been pulled over. No parking tickets. No fender benders. No red lights run or even an expired license plate tag. I've had a shiny, perfect driving record. And I felt proud of it. Which is probably why it needed to be pried from my kung fu grip.
Here's the kicker. Not only was I in a car accident yesterday, but I caused the accident. Embarrassed doesn't even begin to describe how I felt (feel). I was also so confused. I am such a careful driver that I'm baffled as to how this even happened. My dad says they're called "accidents" for a reason.
I won't bore you with the details, mostly because it still stings to recount them. The main points are: I didn't see a car, I hit said car, all parties involved were unharmed, I had Nora in the car with me, Nora was scared at first but then practiced handstands in the grass while I talked to the police officer, the other car had to be towed as a precaution but was basically driveable, my car is driveable but we are not to drive it until the insurance adjuster comes out. Oh, and I cried. A lot. The middle-aged male police officer wasn't quite sure what to do with a crying woman.
The accident happened while I was on my way to pick up our new dining chairs. I never got the chairs. That's a worry for a different day. I'll need to borrow a truck (and have someone else drive as I am not emotionally ready) or beg Pier 1 to hold them longer due to extenuating circumstances.
So today I'm nursing an exhausted body and a bruised ego. It's back to life as usual with school, the last dance class before this weekend's big recital, babysitting the two kids I care for everyday, taking care of the house and laundry and meals, etc. Only it has to be done with one car between Jared, me, and five kids. We're working it out.
I'm so grateful that no one was hurt, and I'm trusting God to make something out of the rest of the mess. And now that my secret is out, maybe it'll stop stinging so much.
Jessica
Sunday, March 30, 2014
This Week's Lessons
I've been secretly frustrated lately. I've been feeling left out. Overlooked. Forgotten. It's been happening with friends, family, and even at church. I recently said to my husband, "We could move to a different country and I don't think it would affect anyone."
What may have started with other people's words and actions turned into a problem in my heart.
This past week was my kids' Spring Break. Jared was gone on a business trip for the first half of the week, but then he was able to take the rest of the week off of work. We were able to have some great family time, and we got to see all four of our parents at various times this week.
Last week as I was wrestling with my feelings, I just wanted to talk to my grandma who passed away a couple years ago. No one could substitute, and I don't have access to her at the moment.
When we visited Jared's dad over Spring Break, I had the chance to sit and talk with Jared's grandma. I got some of that matriarchal wisdom I was craving. She reminded me of what I do have. I know that I have literally the world's most amazing husband, and I'm so incredibly grateful for our three kids. But I have a tendency to think, "Ok, my marriage is great and my kids are doing well, so I'll focus on what needs my attention or needs fixing." Jared's grandma simultaneously reassured me that my tendency is natural and understandable, and she also helped me to see why I needed to shift my focus. Only a grandma can correct you in such a gentle way. :)
Later that night Jared's dad showed me the book his church small group is studying, What On Earth Am I Here For? by Rick Warren. As I flipped through the book, God directed my attention to a section near the end of the book. He put a label on the part I've played in my recent struggles: Envy.
Yuck! I don't want to have envy in my heart! I usually have no trouble rejoicing with people around me, so I didn't see this coming. But of course, God was right. He helped me to see that I was envious of time other friends spend together while I crave more connection with women. I was envious of other people being recognized for what they do at church while I was repeatedly passed over for jobs I volunteered to do. I was envious of other people's close-knit families (or at least how I perceive them to be) while I have been longing for deeper relationships with family members.
Rick Warren had several helpful things to say about envy:
One of the many books I'm reading right now (I currently have what I call "book ADD") is A Confident Heart by Renee Swope. I read a little this afternoon, and of course God used that time to speak to me as well.
Here are a few highlights from my reading today:
One other thing God made me realize after I wrote all this is that I tend to envy certain parts of each person around me, as if I'm shopping ala cart from each life around me so I can build what I perceive to be the perfect combination for my life. How unlike me to want to make something perfect. ;) However, each person's circumstances are a package deal. I can't take one good thing from each example I see and ignore the bad that comes along with what they've been given. No matter how much I want to.
I know this post is long and probably not nearly as meaningful for any of you as it was for me. I wasn't going to write it but decided to go ahead for my own sake. I needed a place to process what I'm learning.
I'll have a more light-hearted post for you as soon as I get a chance to edit some pictures of a fun activity I did with the kids last week.
Jessica
What may have started with other people's words and actions turned into a problem in my heart.
This past week was my kids' Spring Break. Jared was gone on a business trip for the first half of the week, but then he was able to take the rest of the week off of work. We were able to have some great family time, and we got to see all four of our parents at various times this week.
Last week as I was wrestling with my feelings, I just wanted to talk to my grandma who passed away a couple years ago. No one could substitute, and I don't have access to her at the moment.
When we visited Jared's dad over Spring Break, I had the chance to sit and talk with Jared's grandma. I got some of that matriarchal wisdom I was craving. She reminded me of what I do have. I know that I have literally the world's most amazing husband, and I'm so incredibly grateful for our three kids. But I have a tendency to think, "Ok, my marriage is great and my kids are doing well, so I'll focus on what needs my attention or needs fixing." Jared's grandma simultaneously reassured me that my tendency is natural and understandable, and she also helped me to see why I needed to shift my focus. Only a grandma can correct you in such a gentle way. :)
Later that night Jared's dad showed me the book his church small group is studying, What On Earth Am I Here For? by Rick Warren. As I flipped through the book, God directed my attention to a section near the end of the book. He put a label on the part I've played in my recent struggles: Envy.
Yuck! I don't want to have envy in my heart! I usually have no trouble rejoicing with people around me, so I didn't see this coming. But of course, God was right. He helped me to see that I was envious of time other friends spend together while I crave more connection with women. I was envious of other people being recognized for what they do at church while I was repeatedly passed over for jobs I volunteered to do. I was envious of other people's close-knit families (or at least how I perceive them to be) while I have been longing for deeper relationships with family members.
Rick Warren had several helpful things to say about envy:
- It's foolish to compare myself to others because I'm incomparable! So is everyone else. God made each of us to be unique.
- Comparing always leads to one of two negative reactions: pride or envy. You can always find someone you think you're better than, and you will be prideful. On the other hand, you will always find people that you think are doing better than you, and you will become envious and discouraged.
- One reason we sometimes find it hard to "rejoice with those who rejoice" is because we fear that there is only a limited supply of God's goodness and grace, so if others get a bigger slice of cake, then I may not get as much. But God's grace is boundless. Ephesians 3:8 speaks of "the unending, boundless, fathomless, incalculable, and exhaustless riches of Christ."
- When you find yourself beginning to envy someone else, instead of wishing you had their job or talent or boyfriend or children or whatever, remind yourself that "God has given me some unique gifts they don't have, and besides that, I don't know the downside of being them."
- The point above is just like what Lysa TerKeurst taught me to remind myself when I feel jealous: "I'm not equipped to handle her good, and I'm not equipped to handle her bad."
- One of the signs that envy has entered my heart is when I start feeling, "It's not fair! It's not fair that I don't have what they have!" Anytime we accuse God of unfairness, we are actually doubting his goodness. Envy is the symptom, but doubting God is the disease.
- Anytime you envy others, you are doubting that God knows what's best for you. You question his love, his justice, and even his wisdom.
- Everything I have is an undeserved gift from God. I wouldn't even exist if it weren't for God's grace. The next breath of air I take is a gift from God.
- I don't know what God knows and I can't see what God sees, so I should trust him.
- Life on earth is unfair because of sin, not because of God. Our rebellion against God has broken everything on the planet. This isn't heaven, where everything works perfectly. Nothing works perfectly here.
- God sent Jesus to save us from the judgment day when he will balance the books, right all wrongs, and administer justice.
- It was not fair for Jesus to die in my place for my sins. But he did.
One of the many books I'm reading right now (I currently have what I call "book ADD") is A Confident Heart by Renee Swope. I read a little this afternoon, and of course God used that time to speak to me as well.
Here are a few highlights from my reading today:
- How do we know if we are hearing the voice of condemnation that comes from the accuser, or the voice of conviction that comes from God? Condemnation sweeps across our thoughts with generalized statements such as, You're such a failure, You're so hypocritical, or You can never be counted on. The Holy Spirit's conviction will be specific. (My thoughts have been more along the lines of the generalized negative condemning statements. God showed me my specific sin of envy.)
- We have to accept that we are going to disappoint people, especially if we are seeking to please God.
- Every time you fail to be the woman God calls you to be, or the woman you expect yourself to be, let God remind you of the progress you've made. Even though you may not be quite who you want to be, you are not who you used to be!
- Comparison is one of woman's worst enemies.
- We compare how we feel inadequate on the inside with someone who looks like they have it all together on the outside.
- God never intended for us to compete with each other. We are different parts of one body.
- I have been guilty of thinking God wasn't fair or didn't love me as much because He didn't give me the talents I admired in others.
One other thing God made me realize after I wrote all this is that I tend to envy certain parts of each person around me, as if I'm shopping ala cart from each life around me so I can build what I perceive to be the perfect combination for my life. How unlike me to want to make something perfect. ;) However, each person's circumstances are a package deal. I can't take one good thing from each example I see and ignore the bad that comes along with what they've been given. No matter how much I want to.
I know this post is long and probably not nearly as meaningful for any of you as it was for me. I wasn't going to write it but decided to go ahead for my own sake. I needed a place to process what I'm learning.
I'll have a more light-hearted post for you as soon as I get a chance to edit some pictures of a fun activity I did with the kids last week.
Jessica
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Weird
Do you ever wonder if you're weird?
Or maybe it seems that everyone else around you is weird?
Oh, come on, I can't be the only one.
This is a lesson I've been working on learning for literally years now: how to be completely content with being different than people around me.
I've analyzed this a lot. Why does it bother me so much when people make different choices than I do, parent differently than I do, allow/disallow different things than I do?
I think the answer lies in how I interpret different choices. When someone makes a choice different than mine, I've always interpreted that as, "I considered your choice but had good reason for not choosing it." That led me to feel as though I was missing something or had made the wrong choice.
This might actually apply in some cases. For example, Mom A might allow her children to play a certain video game while Mom B forbids that game. It's quite possible that Mom A doesn't realize how violent the game actually is because she hasn't checked it out herself. What I've learned lately is that it's also quite plausible that Moms A & B just have differing views on tolerable video games for their kids. Mom B probably can't be convinced that they're making equally acceptable choices though when she feels that her standards are set correctly.
Then there are issues such as foods and drinks. I was at a church breakfast several months ago when a volunteer asked us what drinks we would like. Nora asked me what kind of milk they had because we have several kinds in our home refrigerator (skim for Jared, 2% for kids, lactose-free for me, etc.). Another mom at the table loudly told me that she never ever allows her children to have chocolate milk. Ever. I mentally prayed and begged Nora not to mention that my kids drink chocolate milk every single day.
I left that breakfast feeling bad about myself as a mom. All because an outspoken mom felt I should raise my kids according to her standards. Sometimes I interpret other people's comments this way ("You should do as I do") when in reality they aren't implying that at all. But I can tell you that in this particular case, this particular mom does think her choices are the only correct ones.
Somehow food has become a popular category for these little skirmishes where two people have different standards. Some only eat organic, some don't eat meat, some consume artificial sweeteners to lower calories, and some never consume artificial sweeteners. Some eat a low-calorie diet, some eat a low-fat diet, some eat a low-carb diet, and some eat a low-budget diet. We all have our opinions on what is acceptable to eat, and I'm pretty sure you'll never find another person who has the EXACT same diet and guidelines that you do.
My diet has changed so much over the years. I had strict standards when I was losing weight. Then I had to make changes to account for becoming lactose intolerant and discovering various trigger foods for my Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I used artificial sweeteners to cut out calories while losing weight. Then I cut out artificial sweeteners when my body wouldn't digest them. I relaxed my diet when I reached the stage of maintaining my weight. Then I gained a little when we went on vacation and then moved and then had the holiday season. My diet changed again so I could lose the extra weight.
I can't expect other people to make the exact same food choices that I do. I can't expect other people to boycott onions just because they hurt my belly more than any other food on the planet. Do any of you agree with me that olives are hands-down the most disgusting food there is?
Of course food is just one tiny area where we might disagree. Parenting has to be the most heated category for disagreements. I've made my choices on things like breastfeeding, how to get babies to sleep on their own, potty training, discipline, etc. I have a lot of choices left to make.
It is EXHAUSTING to constantly compare my own choices with those of everyone around me. There is value is seeing what other people choose, and especially why they make their choices, so I can make an informed decision. But I've often take it too far, losing my own perspective as I consider other people's.
All of these rambling thoughts came to the forefront recently when we met a family at school. Both of my boys have grown fond of a boy in Nolan's class, and that boy's mom invited us over for a playdate. I was so excited. She seemed so nice, and I knew her son got along well with my boys. Plus I was ecstatic that she asked me to come along so I could get to know them better.
Our visit to their house was a constant reminder that people around me are not clones of me. She offered my kids organic fruit pops for an after-school snack. I was super happy with that healthy snack choice, but I knew that my kids often eat things like Goldfish or Pringles for their after-school snack. She characterized herself as a "free spirited mom" who doesn't impose many rules on her kids. I think we could all agree that I fall more in the "overbearing" category as a mom. The toughest part of our visit was when I tried to explain Griffin to her. She had never heard of Asperger's, and when I said it's a form of autism, she either hasn't heard of autism or doesn't believe in it. She wasn't clear.
I would normally think we're just not compatible with this family. However, our kids really enjoy each other. So we reciprocated the invitation and had them over to our house yesterday. After a little mental processing on my part, I decided just to be me. I still wanted my kids to behave and share and use manners. I still cleaned my house. I spent too much time trying to decide what to serve for an after-school snack. But I made no apologies about who we are. I didn't try to cover up the ways in which we're different.
This was a big step for me.
The overall message is: This is us. We don't drink alcohol, we don't cuss, we are super involved at church, we buys foods that are on sale, we let our kids eat candy and drink chocolate milk, our house is a completely different style than yours, we love each other like crazy, we tend to raise our voices, I am fiercely protective of my children, my kids are far from perfect, I have a horrible memory, and I tend to say awkward things when I'm nervous. But if you want to be friends, I'm in.
I'm learning to accept that sometimes I'm weird. And sometimes I'm super normal and the other guy is weird.
I never want to get to the point of being close-minded, assuming that I'm always right. But my focus had to shift. I am moving from changing what other people think I should change to seeking God's guidance and changing what He asks me to change. That's the key to finding the balance between "I need to change everything about myself" and "I don't need to change one thing about myself."
I'm re-reading the book Jesus Calling this year, and this is what the devotion for yesterday said:
So I'm working on this, and making progress (I think).
Here's to being weird and loving it!
Jessica
Or maybe it seems that everyone else around you is weird?
Oh, come on, I can't be the only one.
This is a lesson I've been working on learning for literally years now: how to be completely content with being different than people around me.
I've analyzed this a lot. Why does it bother me so much when people make different choices than I do, parent differently than I do, allow/disallow different things than I do?
I think the answer lies in how I interpret different choices. When someone makes a choice different than mine, I've always interpreted that as, "I considered your choice but had good reason for not choosing it." That led me to feel as though I was missing something or had made the wrong choice.
This might actually apply in some cases. For example, Mom A might allow her children to play a certain video game while Mom B forbids that game. It's quite possible that Mom A doesn't realize how violent the game actually is because she hasn't checked it out herself. What I've learned lately is that it's also quite plausible that Moms A & B just have differing views on tolerable video games for their kids. Mom B probably can't be convinced that they're making equally acceptable choices though when she feels that her standards are set correctly.
Then there are issues such as foods and drinks. I was at a church breakfast several months ago when a volunteer asked us what drinks we would like. Nora asked me what kind of milk they had because we have several kinds in our home refrigerator (skim for Jared, 2% for kids, lactose-free for me, etc.). Another mom at the table loudly told me that she never ever allows her children to have chocolate milk. Ever. I mentally prayed and begged Nora not to mention that my kids drink chocolate milk every single day.
I left that breakfast feeling bad about myself as a mom. All because an outspoken mom felt I should raise my kids according to her standards. Sometimes I interpret other people's comments this way ("You should do as I do") when in reality they aren't implying that at all. But I can tell you that in this particular case, this particular mom does think her choices are the only correct ones.
Somehow food has become a popular category for these little skirmishes where two people have different standards. Some only eat organic, some don't eat meat, some consume artificial sweeteners to lower calories, and some never consume artificial sweeteners. Some eat a low-calorie diet, some eat a low-fat diet, some eat a low-carb diet, and some eat a low-budget diet. We all have our opinions on what is acceptable to eat, and I'm pretty sure you'll never find another person who has the EXACT same diet and guidelines that you do.
My diet has changed so much over the years. I had strict standards when I was losing weight. Then I had to make changes to account for becoming lactose intolerant and discovering various trigger foods for my Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I used artificial sweeteners to cut out calories while losing weight. Then I cut out artificial sweeteners when my body wouldn't digest them. I relaxed my diet when I reached the stage of maintaining my weight. Then I gained a little when we went on vacation and then moved and then had the holiday season. My diet changed again so I could lose the extra weight.
I can't expect other people to make the exact same food choices that I do. I can't expect other people to boycott onions just because they hurt my belly more than any other food on the planet. Do any of you agree with me that olives are hands-down the most disgusting food there is?
Of course food is just one tiny area where we might disagree. Parenting has to be the most heated category for disagreements. I've made my choices on things like breastfeeding, how to get babies to sleep on their own, potty training, discipline, etc. I have a lot of choices left to make.
It is EXHAUSTING to constantly compare my own choices with those of everyone around me. There is value is seeing what other people choose, and especially why they make their choices, so I can make an informed decision. But I've often take it too far, losing my own perspective as I consider other people's.
All of these rambling thoughts came to the forefront recently when we met a family at school. Both of my boys have grown fond of a boy in Nolan's class, and that boy's mom invited us over for a playdate. I was so excited. She seemed so nice, and I knew her son got along well with my boys. Plus I was ecstatic that she asked me to come along so I could get to know them better.
Our visit to their house was a constant reminder that people around me are not clones of me. She offered my kids organic fruit pops for an after-school snack. I was super happy with that healthy snack choice, but I knew that my kids often eat things like Goldfish or Pringles for their after-school snack. She characterized herself as a "free spirited mom" who doesn't impose many rules on her kids. I think we could all agree that I fall more in the "overbearing" category as a mom. The toughest part of our visit was when I tried to explain Griffin to her. She had never heard of Asperger's, and when I said it's a form of autism, she either hasn't heard of autism or doesn't believe in it. She wasn't clear.
I would normally think we're just not compatible with this family. However, our kids really enjoy each other. So we reciprocated the invitation and had them over to our house yesterday. After a little mental processing on my part, I decided just to be me. I still wanted my kids to behave and share and use manners. I still cleaned my house. I spent too much time trying to decide what to serve for an after-school snack. But I made no apologies about who we are. I didn't try to cover up the ways in which we're different.
This was a big step for me.
The overall message is: This is us. We don't drink alcohol, we don't cuss, we are super involved at church, we buys foods that are on sale, we let our kids eat candy and drink chocolate milk, our house is a completely different style than yours, we love each other like crazy, we tend to raise our voices, I am fiercely protective of my children, my kids are far from perfect, I have a horrible memory, and I tend to say awkward things when I'm nervous. But if you want to be friends, I'm in.
I'm learning to accept that sometimes I'm weird. And sometimes I'm super normal and the other guy is weird.
I never want to get to the point of being close-minded, assuming that I'm always right. But my focus had to shift. I am moving from changing what other people think I should change to seeking God's guidance and changing what He asks me to change. That's the key to finding the balance between "I need to change everything about myself" and "I don't need to change one thing about myself."
I'm re-reading the book Jesus Calling this year, and this is what the devotion for yesterday said:
Stop judging and evaluating yourself, for this is not your role. Above all, stop comparing yourself with other people. This produces feelings of pride or inferiority; sometimes, a mixture of both. I lead each of My children along a path that is uniquely tailor-made for him or her. Comparing is not only wrong; it is meaningless.Seems like a perfect message for me on the day when I hosted the which-one-of-us-is-weird family.
Don't look for affirmation in the wrong places: your own evaluations, or those of other people. The only source of real affirmation is My unconditional Love. Many believers perceive Me as an unpleasable Judge, angrily searching out their faults and failures. Nothing could be farther from the truth! I died for your sins, so that I might clothe you in My garments of salvation. This is how I see you: radiant in My robe of righteousness. When I discipline you, it is never in anger or disgust; it is to prepare you for face-to-Face fellowship with Me throughout all eternity. Immerse yourself in My loving Presence. Be receptive to My affirmation, which flows continually from the throne of grace.
So I'm working on this, and making progress (I think).
Here's to being weird and loving it!
Jessica
Friday, January 17, 2014
Not For Sale
Last week while the kids were home for a snow day, the boys decided to turn their room into their own store. Griffin hung this sign on the wall in the hallway:
They were so cute making price tags for items and pretending to sell stuff to each other. Griffin walked out to me with his ornery I've-got-a-secret grin on his face. I noticed a sticky note on his shirt. Apparently he had priced himself at $100.
I told him I'd buy him up in an instant! I also told him I'd pay waaaaaaay more than $100 for him. He kept raising the price and I kept affirming I'd pay it. We got to one quintillion (his favorite number) dollars, and I still said he was worth more. It was a great mother-son moment to tell my Griffin that he's priceless to me.
I'm pretty sure the moment was then ended by some other sibling quarrel or someone getting hurt or at least crying.
Fast forward to this week (Tuesday). Great day for the kids, decent evening. Jared was gone until late for a church board meeting and then the church basketball league, so I had to take all 3 kids to Nolan's basketball practice. It all went fine until we were leaving.
Then Griffin made a series of bad choices. It was one of those times when I was fuming and swore a punishment was a-coming, but I just couldn't think of an appropriate punishment right that minute. Ever have those?
Anyway, it was a rough time trying to get the kids ready for bed. We had to wait for Nolan to finish up his shower and teeth (the younger two showered before practice), so I made Griffin come sit with me to discuss where things went terribly wrong.
It wasn't the most pleasant conversation. I'm not sure if we made any progress in the grand scheme of me trying to teach him how the world works and how he should behave in it. But at least I stayed calm and tried my best to go beyond offense-punishment to actually discussing his behavior. I also tried to maintain physical contact with him the entire time to let him know I love him, even in the midst of a frustrating conversation.
At the end of the conversation, I said something like, "I know I'm not a perfect mom, but I'm doing my very best." He said I hurt his feelings by saying I'm not a perfect mom. I explained that everyone makes mistakes, including me. Then I jokingly asked if he wanted to get rid of me or trade me in for a different mom. He said no and then ran off.
I busied myself with getting everyone settled in bed, and Griffin ran back to me with something in his hands. He stuck a piece of paper on my back.
As he climbed into bed, I twisted my shirt around to see what he had written and taped to me:
Not for sale.
Griffin isn't looking to upgrade me just yet. I may not be a perfect mom, but I get to keep my job.
Jessica
They were so cute making price tags for items and pretending to sell stuff to each other. Griffin walked out to me with his ornery I've-got-a-secret grin on his face. I noticed a sticky note on his shirt. Apparently he had priced himself at $100.
I told him I'd buy him up in an instant! I also told him I'd pay waaaaaaay more than $100 for him. He kept raising the price and I kept affirming I'd pay it. We got to one quintillion (his favorite number) dollars, and I still said he was worth more. It was a great mother-son moment to tell my Griffin that he's priceless to me.
I'm pretty sure the moment was then ended by some other sibling quarrel or someone getting hurt or at least crying.
Fast forward to this week (Tuesday). Great day for the kids, decent evening. Jared was gone until late for a church board meeting and then the church basketball league, so I had to take all 3 kids to Nolan's basketball practice. It all went fine until we were leaving.
Then Griffin made a series of bad choices. It was one of those times when I was fuming and swore a punishment was a-coming, but I just couldn't think of an appropriate punishment right that minute. Ever have those?
Anyway, it was a rough time trying to get the kids ready for bed. We had to wait for Nolan to finish up his shower and teeth (the younger two showered before practice), so I made Griffin come sit with me to discuss where things went terribly wrong.
It wasn't the most pleasant conversation. I'm not sure if we made any progress in the grand scheme of me trying to teach him how the world works and how he should behave in it. But at least I stayed calm and tried my best to go beyond offense-punishment to actually discussing his behavior. I also tried to maintain physical contact with him the entire time to let him know I love him, even in the midst of a frustrating conversation.
At the end of the conversation, I said something like, "I know I'm not a perfect mom, but I'm doing my very best." He said I hurt his feelings by saying I'm not a perfect mom. I explained that everyone makes mistakes, including me. Then I jokingly asked if he wanted to get rid of me or trade me in for a different mom. He said no and then ran off.
I busied myself with getting everyone settled in bed, and Griffin ran back to me with something in his hands. He stuck a piece of paper on my back.
As he climbed into bed, I twisted my shirt around to see what he had written and taped to me:
Not for sale.
Griffin isn't looking to upgrade me just yet. I may not be a perfect mom, but I get to keep my job.
Jessica
Monday, September 23, 2013
Dirty Houses Make Good Friends
I genuinely enjoy doing nice things for people.
It's actually a bit selfish because I like the way it makes me feel to bless someone else.
Then I mess it all up by adding my ridiculous expectations.
A friend of mine just had a baby, and I really wanted to take her a meal. I kept putting it off because I didn't have a baby gift to give to her.
Not only did I want to take her a gift, but I wanted it to be a super meaningful gift. Something homemade and personalized. And unique. And useful.
Is that even possible?
When I told Jared why I hadn't taken a dinner to my friend, he made fun of me (lovingly) and brought me back to reality.
So I picked a day and told her I'd be bringing a dinner. I let go of my "what if they don't like these foods" thoughts and just picked a recipe. I even tried a brand new recipe for their dessert (I generally try not to try a new recipe on other people; I like to give it a test drive at home first). This is risky business, you know.
I planned, shopped, and prepared the meal and dessert. Last Friday morning, Nora and I set out to go see my friend, deliver the prepared food, play with her toddler son, andsmell snuggle meet her new baby. I seriously didn't want my friend to tidy her house or put on makeup or do anything extra just because we were coming over. Afterall, I was trying to lighten her load of daily chores, not add to it. I nearly sent her a text threatening that if her house appeared clean or if I detected mascara on her tired eyes that I wouldn't leave her dessert. I decided to just stick to the classic "We're on our way."
She claimed her house was unvacuumed, but all I noticed were great paint colors, eye-catching decorations, and fabulous organization. She mumbled something about her clothes and her hair being up, but I just couldn't get over wondering if she had any baby weight to lose because I couldn't find it. She also mentioned that they had all been up since one of those times that I don't like to see on the clock unless it's followed by a "pm." Those are hard days.
In fact, those are "I don't really want to see anyone today" days. But she let us come over anyway. And she didn't try to vacuum, even though it was bothering her. She didn't try to style her hair in a way she thought would be more acceptable. She didn't change her clothes.
When I left her house, I felt honored that she let us come into her imperfect world. It felt like she trusted me with the real her.
What a gift.
Even while I was still processing my interaction with her and thinking how thankful I am to have a friend like that, I had to switch my focus to later that day. We had asked a friend and her kids to come eat dinner and hang out with us for the evening. I had prepped our dinner while I was making the meal to take to my friend with the new baby. But now I was thinking about how I hadn't cleaned my house all week.
The problem was that we were going to be hosting a big dinner at our house the following evening, and I knew I'd be cleaning all day leading up to that dinner. Did I really want to clean my house Friday afternoon before my friend came for a casual visit and then clean again on Saturday before our fancy dinner? Nope. I really didn't want to do all that work.
So I decided to try out this newfangled idea of letting a friend come into my real world. I sent a text to my friend just before she came over for the casual Friday night dinner. I said, "My house is filthy and I'm cleaning tomorrow. You've been properly warned." I hoped I didn't sound offensive or give the impression that she wasn't important enough to clean for.
Her response put me at ease: "Aww, thank you for not caring. You're a true friend."
Wow. Who would have thought? She felt the same way about coming into my real house as I felt about going into my other friend's real house.
I guess I've had a double standard: I don't want other people to clean before I come over, but I always feel the need to clean before anyone comes to my house.
I want to appear to have to have it all together. I want to pretend that my house already looked spotless and I'm unrattled by an unexpected visitor or company in the midst of my sometimes difficult world. I want to trick people into thinking that I can do it all, and with my hair and makeup done, too. I don't want to let on that my reality includes a husband who is out of town, three kids who woke me up three different times during the night, breakfast remnants still on the table, lunch remnants still on the counter, and I don't even know if the dishwasher is full of clean or dirty dishes (but I know the sink is full of dirty ones). It's a little too scary to see who still likes me on those days. But I'm starting to think that letting a friend into my dirty house (or some other ugly part of my reality) is what makes a strong friendship.
It's not that I won't ever clean for company again (I wish!). But if a friend wants to come over and I can't get my house clean, or I plain don't want to, I apparently don't have to fake it. Some friends really do want to spend time with people, not compare houses or see who's doing better at their housewife duties. Some friends have the ability to see past the clutter (or lack therof) to see the real person underneath.
I want to be one of those friends.
Jessica
It's actually a bit selfish because I like the way it makes me feel to bless someone else.
Then I mess it all up by adding my ridiculous expectations.
A friend of mine just had a baby, and I really wanted to take her a meal. I kept putting it off because I didn't have a baby gift to give to her.
Not only did I want to take her a gift, but I wanted it to be a super meaningful gift. Something homemade and personalized. And unique. And useful.
Is that even possible?
When I told Jared why I hadn't taken a dinner to my friend, he made fun of me (lovingly) and brought me back to reality.
So I picked a day and told her I'd be bringing a dinner. I let go of my "what if they don't like these foods" thoughts and just picked a recipe. I even tried a brand new recipe for their dessert (I generally try not to try a new recipe on other people; I like to give it a test drive at home first). This is risky business, you know.
I planned, shopped, and prepared the meal and dessert. Last Friday morning, Nora and I set out to go see my friend, deliver the prepared food, play with her toddler son, and
She claimed her house was unvacuumed, but all I noticed were great paint colors, eye-catching decorations, and fabulous organization. She mumbled something about her clothes and her hair being up, but I just couldn't get over wondering if she had any baby weight to lose because I couldn't find it. She also mentioned that they had all been up since one of those times that I don't like to see on the clock unless it's followed by a "pm." Those are hard days.
In fact, those are "I don't really want to see anyone today" days. But she let us come over anyway. And she didn't try to vacuum, even though it was bothering her. She didn't try to style her hair in a way she thought would be more acceptable. She didn't change her clothes.
When I left her house, I felt honored that she let us come into her imperfect world. It felt like she trusted me with the real her.
What a gift.
Even while I was still processing my interaction with her and thinking how thankful I am to have a friend like that, I had to switch my focus to later that day. We had asked a friend and her kids to come eat dinner and hang out with us for the evening. I had prepped our dinner while I was making the meal to take to my friend with the new baby. But now I was thinking about how I hadn't cleaned my house all week.
The problem was that we were going to be hosting a big dinner at our house the following evening, and I knew I'd be cleaning all day leading up to that dinner. Did I really want to clean my house Friday afternoon before my friend came for a casual visit and then clean again on Saturday before our fancy dinner? Nope. I really didn't want to do all that work.
So I decided to try out this newfangled idea of letting a friend come into my real world. I sent a text to my friend just before she came over for the casual Friday night dinner. I said, "My house is filthy and I'm cleaning tomorrow. You've been properly warned." I hoped I didn't sound offensive or give the impression that she wasn't important enough to clean for.
Her response put me at ease: "Aww, thank you for not caring. You're a true friend."
Wow. Who would have thought? She felt the same way about coming into my real house as I felt about going into my other friend's real house.
I guess I've had a double standard: I don't want other people to clean before I come over, but I always feel the need to clean before anyone comes to my house.
I want to appear to have to have it all together. I want to pretend that my house already looked spotless and I'm unrattled by an unexpected visitor or company in the midst of my sometimes difficult world. I want to trick people into thinking that I can do it all, and with my hair and makeup done, too. I don't want to let on that my reality includes a husband who is out of town, three kids who woke me up three different times during the night, breakfast remnants still on the table, lunch remnants still on the counter, and I don't even know if the dishwasher is full of clean or dirty dishes (but I know the sink is full of dirty ones). It's a little too scary to see who still likes me on those days. But I'm starting to think that letting a friend into my dirty house (or some other ugly part of my reality) is what makes a strong friendship.
It's not that I won't ever clean for company again (I wish!). But if a friend wants to come over and I can't get my house clean, or I plain don't want to, I apparently don't have to fake it. Some friends really do want to spend time with people, not compare houses or see who's doing better at their housewife duties. Some friends have the ability to see past the clutter (or lack therof) to see the real person underneath.
I want to be one of those friends.
Jessica
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Compliments & Timing
Yesterday I learned a little something about the timing of compliments.
There's a mom I run into several times per week because our sons attend the same school. I always think she is adorable. She has a fantastic figure, cute hair, great teeth. I always want to tell her she's adorable, but I don't want to embarrass her in front of the other parents.
Yesterday presented a rare opportunity where this mom and I were the only ones left after school while our kids played together.
But I chickened out and didn't say anything.
We started walking to our cars, but then her son called my son over to talk again. This time, I didn't want to miss my opportunity.
I said, "I always want to tell you this, but I never want to embarrass you. I think you are adorable." I told her a few details of why I think she's cute.
Her reaction was awesome. She confessed that she has been feeling very down about her looks lately. She even said she's been driving her husband crazy asking if she's still as pretty as when they met. She said the compliment made a huge difference for her right now.
My simple statement that I was too timid to say before was exactly what this uncertain mom needed to hear.
What a challenge/reminder to me to speak my mind when I'm thinking positive things about people around me. It's worth getting over my fear of sounding weird in order to encourage others.
I thought God was teaching me about giving compliments right at the time that other people need to hear them. Little did I know he had more in mind for me yesterday.
I had been carrying a secret fear/insecurity for a day or two. I hadn't even discussed it with Jared.
Last night I had a meeting at church, and we finished before the church service so several of us stood around talking until the service let out. Out of nowhere, a woman gave me an unexpected compliment. As I stood there trying to receive her compliment, I was stunned that her words spoke directly to my secret insecurity. Unfortunately, I couldn't stop my eyes from welling up. Oh well. At least now she knows that God used her to give me the right compliment at the right time. And God allowed me to see both sides of how compliments can heal.
It can be difficult to speak compliments, for many reasons. It's also challenging to receive a compliment when it's something you don't already believe about yourself.
But my challenge to you is to speak up when you have something nice to say, and hold your tongue and simply receive kind words when they come your way.
As I was thinking about all of this while driving this morning, the song "Remind Me Who I Am" by Jason Gray came on the radio. He clearly understood me when he wrote this song. The chorus says "Tell me once again who I am to you." I feel that way. I ask God over and over and over to remind me. I still haven't figured out how to rest in my identity in Him. I'm working on it.
I hope to live out the line that says, "I'm the one you love. That will be enough."
Jessica
There's a mom I run into several times per week because our sons attend the same school. I always think she is adorable. She has a fantastic figure, cute hair, great teeth. I always want to tell her she's adorable, but I don't want to embarrass her in front of the other parents.
Yesterday presented a rare opportunity where this mom and I were the only ones left after school while our kids played together.
But I chickened out and didn't say anything.
We started walking to our cars, but then her son called my son over to talk again. This time, I didn't want to miss my opportunity.
I said, "I always want to tell you this, but I never want to embarrass you. I think you are adorable." I told her a few details of why I think she's cute.
Her reaction was awesome. She confessed that she has been feeling very down about her looks lately. She even said she's been driving her husband crazy asking if she's still as pretty as when they met. She said the compliment made a huge difference for her right now.
My simple statement that I was too timid to say before was exactly what this uncertain mom needed to hear.
What a challenge/reminder to me to speak my mind when I'm thinking positive things about people around me. It's worth getting over my fear of sounding weird in order to encourage others.
I thought God was teaching me about giving compliments right at the time that other people need to hear them. Little did I know he had more in mind for me yesterday.
I had been carrying a secret fear/insecurity for a day or two. I hadn't even discussed it with Jared.
Last night I had a meeting at church, and we finished before the church service so several of us stood around talking until the service let out. Out of nowhere, a woman gave me an unexpected compliment. As I stood there trying to receive her compliment, I was stunned that her words spoke directly to my secret insecurity. Unfortunately, I couldn't stop my eyes from welling up. Oh well. At least now she knows that God used her to give me the right compliment at the right time. And God allowed me to see both sides of how compliments can heal.
It can be difficult to speak compliments, for many reasons. It's also challenging to receive a compliment when it's something you don't already believe about yourself.
But my challenge to you is to speak up when you have something nice to say, and hold your tongue and simply receive kind words when they come your way.
As I was thinking about all of this while driving this morning, the song "Remind Me Who I Am" by Jason Gray came on the radio. He clearly understood me when he wrote this song. The chorus says "Tell me once again who I am to you." I feel that way. I ask God over and over and over to remind me. I still haven't figured out how to rest in my identity in Him. I'm working on it.
I hope to live out the line that says, "I'm the one you love. That will be enough."
Jessica
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Wacky Wednesday
This week is Dr. Seuss week at Nolan's school, and today was Wacky Wednesday. The kids were encouraged to dress in wacky and silly ways. Nolan came up with his ensemble.
He wanted to put the collar up on his gray shirt and put a brightly colored undershirt with it instead of white. Then he got inspired to wear his t-shirt over his collared shirt instead of under it. You can't tell from the picture, but he put his pants on backwards. He chose his white high-top basketball shoes rather than his everyday shoes. Finally, he asked me to gel his hair into a faux-hawk. I did my best, but his hair wasn't really long enough. His missing tooth accessorizes his outfit perfectly.
You may think this is just a silly addition to a normal school day, but it's not. It's a milestone.
I remember last year when Nolan's school did Dr. Seuss week and had Wacky Wednesday. We tried to convince Nolan to wear his clothes backwards or out of order or mismatched. It was rough. There were tears. He had a very hard time with things being different than normal.
Going back further in time, Nolan had a few issues in preschool as well. I still remember one of his teachers telling me they thought Nolan had OCD and might need help. His pediatrician just told us to keep an eye on him. Nolan couldn't handle getting a stamp on his hand or doing messy activities. Now that Griffin is in the same preschool class and has his own issues, the teachers have been teasing me and wondering if I'm a neat freak. One stroll through my house will tell you otherwise!
When I think back to Nolan's preschool days and our concerns about him, and then I look at the picture of Nolan this morning with the wacky outfit he created himself, I can't help but feel proud of him.
This is a good reminder for me.
At the beginning of a problem with the kids (a problem with their behavior, a parenting issue, a health issue, etc.), I feel overwhelmed. I worry and wonder where this will lead. And then we work on it and find help or answers and do whatever we think is best for our kids. Before we know it, progress is being made and hurdles are overcome. Nolan never let his preschool teachers stamp his hand, but he did let them put paint on his hands for a handprint art project before the end of the year. We celebrated the victory.
The problem is that I tend to celebrate the victory momentarily and then jump right into tackling the next problem. Let me tell you, with three kids, there is always a next problem!
Something as simple as Wacky Wednesday being nothing more than a funny addition to our day reminds me that none of the struggles we face last forever. I'm sure that this is a lesson I'll have to learn over and over {let's be honest}, but I'm grateful for the chance to pause today and be proud of my wacky kids.
Jessica
He wanted to put the collar up on his gray shirt and put a brightly colored undershirt with it instead of white. Then he got inspired to wear his t-shirt over his collared shirt instead of under it. You can't tell from the picture, but he put his pants on backwards. He chose his white high-top basketball shoes rather than his everyday shoes. Finally, he asked me to gel his hair into a faux-hawk. I did my best, but his hair wasn't really long enough. His missing tooth accessorizes his outfit perfectly.
You may think this is just a silly addition to a normal school day, but it's not. It's a milestone.
I remember last year when Nolan's school did Dr. Seuss week and had Wacky Wednesday. We tried to convince Nolan to wear his clothes backwards or out of order or mismatched. It was rough. There were tears. He had a very hard time with things being different than normal.
Going back further in time, Nolan had a few issues in preschool as well. I still remember one of his teachers telling me they thought Nolan had OCD and might need help. His pediatrician just told us to keep an eye on him. Nolan couldn't handle getting a stamp on his hand or doing messy activities. Now that Griffin is in the same preschool class and has his own issues, the teachers have been teasing me and wondering if I'm a neat freak. One stroll through my house will tell you otherwise!
When I think back to Nolan's preschool days and our concerns about him, and then I look at the picture of Nolan this morning with the wacky outfit he created himself, I can't help but feel proud of him.
This is a good reminder for me.
At the beginning of a problem with the kids (a problem with their behavior, a parenting issue, a health issue, etc.), I feel overwhelmed. I worry and wonder where this will lead. And then we work on it and find help or answers and do whatever we think is best for our kids. Before we know it, progress is being made and hurdles are overcome. Nolan never let his preschool teachers stamp his hand, but he did let them put paint on his hands for a handprint art project before the end of the year. We celebrated the victory.
The problem is that I tend to celebrate the victory momentarily and then jump right into tackling the next problem. Let me tell you, with three kids, there is always a next problem!
Something as simple as Wacky Wednesday being nothing more than a funny addition to our day reminds me that none of the struggles we face last forever. I'm sure that this is a lesson I'll have to learn over and over {let's be honest}, but I'm grateful for the chance to pause today and be proud of my wacky kids.
Jessica
Friday, January 25, 2013
Free Printables: The New Perfect
I'm still trying to figure out how to publish a downloadable free printable. We'll see if this method works.
If you didn't already know, I struggle with perfectionism. After I recently told my husband that I don't know how to lower my expectations, I thought about putting up some sort of reminder for myself. So I created these:
Then I decided to make another set with a different word, inspired by my current obsession with the song "Redeemed" by Big Daddy Weave.
Click here to download these printables for free. Enjoy!
Jessica
If you didn't already know, I struggle with perfectionism. After I recently told my husband that I don't know how to lower my expectations, I thought about putting up some sort of reminder for myself. So I created these:
Then I decided to make another set with a different word, inspired by my current obsession with the song "Redeemed" by Big Daddy Weave.
Click here to download these printables for free. Enjoy!
Jessica
Monday, January 21, 2013
Control
I receive daily devotions via email from Proverbs 31 Ministries (which I highly recommend, by the way).
This morning's devotion is called "Who Controls What?" and it talks about how God's original plan was for him to control the world and for us to control ourselves. The author is mostly speaking about self-control.
But it got me thinking. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, mostly because I'm having such a hard time with this darn perfectionism and letting other people's words/actions sink in a little too deeply.
So I started thinking about what God controls and what I control. I'm a list girl, so I started making two lists. These are personal, but that's exactly the sort of thing I share here. I wish I could post these side by side so you could see which items are related, but I think you can connect certain ones just because you're smart.
Things I Can't Control:
Things I Can Control:
I'm still prayerfully thinking about these lists and asking God to help me see which category various aspects of my life belong in. For me, it's important to make this distinction so I can focus on things I can actually change.
I know this isn't an earth-shattering concept. But actually writing the lists is a helpful step for me and might be for you too. The lists give us an idea of how to make a difference with our time and energy.
This exercise reminded me of the Serenity Prayer. I know everyone knows it, maybe even to the point of it being trite. I personally have a beautiful version of it (made by my great-grandma) hanging in my family room.
Overused or not, it's a helpful prayer. I'm called to control the things on my list and surrender the things on God's. I only have enough time and energy to work on the things God puts on my list. No wonder I'm so exhausted: I've been working on God's list!
Jessica
This morning's devotion is called "Who Controls What?" and it talks about how God's original plan was for him to control the world and for us to control ourselves. The author is mostly speaking about self-control.
But it got me thinking. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, mostly because I'm having such a hard time with this darn perfectionism and letting other people's words/actions sink in a little too deeply.
So I started thinking about what God controls and what I control. I'm a list girl, so I started making two lists. These are personal, but that's exactly the sort of thing I share here. I wish I could post these side by side so you could see which items are related, but I think you can connect certain ones just because you're smart.
Things I Can't Control:
- The genetic makeup of my body
- People's reactions to my kids
- What people think of my parenting
- Who my kids are
- What people think of me (My cousin told me, "What other people think of you is none of your business.")
- Jared's income (which is our family's income)
- Jared's travels for work
- God's plan for me and my family
- What people say to me
Things I Can Control:
- What I eat
- How much I exercise
- How I parent
- What I teach my kids
- How I react to my kids
- How we spend money
- My attitude about Jared's travels
- How much I pray
- My study of the Bible
- What I say to other people
I'm still prayerfully thinking about these lists and asking God to help me see which category various aspects of my life belong in. For me, it's important to make this distinction so I can focus on things I can actually change.
I know this isn't an earth-shattering concept. But actually writing the lists is a helpful step for me and might be for you too. The lists give us an idea of how to make a difference with our time and energy.
This exercise reminded me of the Serenity Prayer. I know everyone knows it, maybe even to the point of it being trite. I personally have a beautiful version of it (made by my great-grandma) hanging in my family room.
Overused or not, it's a helpful prayer. I'm called to control the things on my list and surrender the things on God's. I only have enough time and energy to work on the things God puts on my list. No wonder I'm so exhausted: I've been working on God's list!
Jessica
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Failing
"I'm failing as a mom."
I have said that sentencethousands millions of times. I've thought it even more.
My first baby, precious Nolan, was born May 19, 2006, at 12:41 pm. The first time I uttered that fateful sentence was about an hour later when a nurse brought me my tiny new baby (after the check-ups in the nursery) and said, "He was born without a sucking reflex, and I don't think there's any way he'll nurse. But go ahead and try." Then she handed me the baby and walked away as if I should know how to make a baby nurse.
My first step into motherhood was tainted by not being able to do the most basic, "natural" thing a mother should do for her newborn baby. I was so set on not failing that I went through seven weeks of using a feeding tube, pumping, supplementing with formula, pumping, gritting my teeth, paying a lactation consultant, pumping, and trying everything possible until that glorious morning when I finally got my baby to nurse the way I was "supposed to" from the beginning.
I cried every day for seven weeks straight because I thought I was failing.
Failure crept behind me everywhere I went from May 19, 2006, on.
I found myself unexpectedly expecting again when Nolan was only 9 months old. I had failed to time my pregnancies perfectly. I had failed to lose the first baby weight before adding more on. I failed because I was less than delighted to be having a second baby, and another boy, in two years. I failed at getting my babies to sleep through the night. I failed every hour of every day.
My worn-out non-stylish clothes were covered in spit-up. And I'm pretty sure I had a faintly visible scarlet "F" on every garment to show the world that I was failing.
Having a third baby, my long-awaited girl, brought more joy. But the joy was always tempered, and ultimately outweighed, by the looming gray fog of failure hissing in my ear.
Nolan struggled to adjust to kindergarten. Failure. Griffin isn't like other kids. Failure. Nora cries every time we drop her off in her class at church. Failure. I only lost 45 of the 55 pounds I needed to lose. Failure. I still haven't started Griffin in any type of therapy for his Asperger's. Failure. Every time Griffin says something weird, makes an odd gesture, gets upset with other kids, or cries about something...it's my failure. Nora won't let me style her crazy hair. My kids keep outgrowing their clothes faster than I can buy more. I didn't read the last chapter of my Bible study book. Failure, failure, failure.
Last weekend Jared and I got to go out to dinner on a date. Our dinner conversation was pleasant, mostly chatting and updating each other on our week. After dinner we drove to a nearby home improvement store to price some things for our house (which I am very clearly failing on maintaining). Before we got out of the car, we started a much deeper discussion. I tried to convey to him the depth of how much I'm struggling right now. I'm crumbling under the weight of all my failure and our current schedule and the knowledge that we need to add more (like therapy for Griffin and possibly moving).
As I sat crying in the parking lot, Jared decided to turn the car back on to keep us warm (the outside temperature was single digits). The car made a few clicking sounds and then sat silent. Our deep discussion was abruptly ended.
The rest of our date was less than romantic. A very friendly man jumped our car (after Jared literally jogged to a nearby Walmart to buy jumper cables). We ended up needing another jump later from a different stranger. We then drove directly to Jared's mom's to pick up our kids (while leaving the car running in her driveway). Jared dropped me and the kids off at home, drove our car to a car dealership (to hopefully be worked on the next day), and jogged home in the freezing cold.
I kept trying to repeat in my mind, "God will use this for good."
And he did. The next day, I had to get Nolan to school, Griffin to preschool, Griffin home from preschool, and Nolan home from school. All without a car. I had to ask for help. I hate asking for help. But I'm blessed with willing helpers, and my sister and my friend Megan came to my rescue.
What I got, very unexpectedly, was a relaxed day at home. I didn't have to watch the clock because I didn't have to go anywhere. I stayed in my pajamas. All day. I enjoyed time with my friend Megan and her daughter. I got to hang out with Nora and later Griffin (after preschool). I did load after load of laundry. I cleaned. I made dinner. It was just like how being a stay-at-home mom used to be.
I'd be lying if I said that glorious Monday turned my whole week around. No, my week quickly snapped back to the slew of places to be and things to do and deadlines and expectations. I even had the pleasure of another mom unloading a whole bunch of ugliness on me at my husband's church basketball game. At a very loud volume. Ranting about my failure as a mom. But God used that incident to work on me. And I'm trying to stop failing at letting the incident go.
When Jared and I were sitting in that freezing parking lot discussing the weight of life, he told me that my standards are just too high. That I perceive anything less than perfection as failure.
What? Me? A perfectionist??
Even if he is right (don't tell him), I still don't know how to change my expectations. So I started evaluating my view of failure.
I asked myself this very important question: What does it mean to fail as a mom?
I've been wrestling with that question. Just what would it look like to truly be failing as a mom?
In the midst of all this swirling tornado of thoughts, my friend Aimee sent me an amazing email. She included excerpts from a blog post she had read.
Please visit the original blog to read the full post, entitled "Dear Sweet Mom Who Feels Like She's Failing." It's amazing.
I don't want to steal what this woman already wrote, but here's a little taste of what Aimee sent me from the blog post mentioned:
This, like so many other things, is something I'm working on. Working hard. Until I'm exhausted. Some days are harder than others. Sometimes the high of a relaxed Monday where I accomplished so much is washed away by a screaming mom on Tuesday who wanted to publicly tell me that I'm failing as a mom. (And let's be honest, she was probably having a rough mom day herself.) Sometimes Thursday comes around and I've already used up my mental and emotional resources for the week.
But I can look back and know without a doubt that God has been at work in my world this week. If he provided the strangers to jump our car, the helpers to run my kids around, the strength to defend my child to the unglued mom, and the humility to do the right thing and force my son to apologize to the unglued mom...then I know he won't abandon me now.
"And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns." Philippians 1:6 (NLT)
Seriously, will failure ever get off my back? Will I ever function as a non-perfectionist? All I know for sure is that my only hope is allowing God to keep working within me. Even if that work involves faulty car batteries and screaming moms.
One last thing for today...I've shared before that God often uses a particular song to speak to me in the midst of a struggle. Right now I am so drawn to this song:
Just in case you need a little encouragement. :)
Jessica
I have said that sentence
My first baby, precious Nolan, was born May 19, 2006, at 12:41 pm. The first time I uttered that fateful sentence was about an hour later when a nurse brought me my tiny new baby (after the check-ups in the nursery) and said, "He was born without a sucking reflex, and I don't think there's any way he'll nurse. But go ahead and try." Then she handed me the baby and walked away as if I should know how to make a baby nurse.
My first step into motherhood was tainted by not being able to do the most basic, "natural" thing a mother should do for her newborn baby. I was so set on not failing that I went through seven weeks of using a feeding tube, pumping, supplementing with formula, pumping, gritting my teeth, paying a lactation consultant, pumping, and trying everything possible until that glorious morning when I finally got my baby to nurse the way I was "supposed to" from the beginning.
I cried every day for seven weeks straight because I thought I was failing.
Failure crept behind me everywhere I went from May 19, 2006, on.
I found myself unexpectedly expecting again when Nolan was only 9 months old. I had failed to time my pregnancies perfectly. I had failed to lose the first baby weight before adding more on. I failed because I was less than delighted to be having a second baby, and another boy, in two years. I failed at getting my babies to sleep through the night. I failed every hour of every day.
My worn-out non-stylish clothes were covered in spit-up. And I'm pretty sure I had a faintly visible scarlet "F" on every garment to show the world that I was failing.
Having a third baby, my long-awaited girl, brought more joy. But the joy was always tempered, and ultimately outweighed, by the looming gray fog of failure hissing in my ear.
Nolan struggled to adjust to kindergarten. Failure. Griffin isn't like other kids. Failure. Nora cries every time we drop her off in her class at church. Failure. I only lost 45 of the 55 pounds I needed to lose. Failure. I still haven't started Griffin in any type of therapy for his Asperger's. Failure. Every time Griffin says something weird, makes an odd gesture, gets upset with other kids, or cries about something...it's my failure. Nora won't let me style her crazy hair. My kids keep outgrowing their clothes faster than I can buy more. I didn't read the last chapter of my Bible study book. Failure, failure, failure.
Last weekend Jared and I got to go out to dinner on a date. Our dinner conversation was pleasant, mostly chatting and updating each other on our week. After dinner we drove to a nearby home improvement store to price some things for our house (which I am very clearly failing on maintaining). Before we got out of the car, we started a much deeper discussion. I tried to convey to him the depth of how much I'm struggling right now. I'm crumbling under the weight of all my failure and our current schedule and the knowledge that we need to add more (like therapy for Griffin and possibly moving).
As I sat crying in the parking lot, Jared decided to turn the car back on to keep us warm (the outside temperature was single digits). The car made a few clicking sounds and then sat silent. Our deep discussion was abruptly ended.
The rest of our date was less than romantic. A very friendly man jumped our car (after Jared literally jogged to a nearby Walmart to buy jumper cables). We ended up needing another jump later from a different stranger. We then drove directly to Jared's mom's to pick up our kids (while leaving the car running in her driveway). Jared dropped me and the kids off at home, drove our car to a car dealership (to hopefully be worked on the next day), and jogged home in the freezing cold.
I kept trying to repeat in my mind, "God will use this for good."
And he did. The next day, I had to get Nolan to school, Griffin to preschool, Griffin home from preschool, and Nolan home from school. All without a car. I had to ask for help. I hate asking for help. But I'm blessed with willing helpers, and my sister and my friend Megan came to my rescue.
What I got, very unexpectedly, was a relaxed day at home. I didn't have to watch the clock because I didn't have to go anywhere. I stayed in my pajamas. All day. I enjoyed time with my friend Megan and her daughter. I got to hang out with Nora and later Griffin (after preschool). I did load after load of laundry. I cleaned. I made dinner. It was just like how being a stay-at-home mom used to be.
I'd be lying if I said that glorious Monday turned my whole week around. No, my week quickly snapped back to the slew of places to be and things to do and deadlines and expectations. I even had the pleasure of another mom unloading a whole bunch of ugliness on me at my husband's church basketball game. At a very loud volume. Ranting about my failure as a mom. But God used that incident to work on me. And I'm trying to stop failing at letting the incident go.
When Jared and I were sitting in that freezing parking lot discussing the weight of life, he told me that my standards are just too high. That I perceive anything less than perfection as failure.
What? Me? A perfectionist??
Even if he is right (don't tell him), I still don't know how to change my expectations. So I started evaluating my view of failure.
I asked myself this very important question: What does it mean to fail as a mom?
I've been wrestling with that question. Just what would it look like to truly be failing as a mom?
In the midst of all this swirling tornado of thoughts, my friend Aimee sent me an amazing email. She included excerpts from a blog post she had read.
Please visit the original blog to read the full post, entitled "Dear Sweet Mom Who Feels Like She's Failing." It's amazing.
I don't want to steal what this woman already wrote, but here's a little taste of what Aimee sent me from the blog post mentioned:
It's great, right? There's more. You seriously should read the full post.Somehow in the mixed up media world we've got these thoughts of moms being perfect. Society doesn't give us a break. I mean read this article in the New York Times about the pressure on moms to look a certain way after they give birth. And then? Then we're to be ultra creative, crafty, humorous, happy, chipper, up before dawn, to sleep after dark, with our sinks shined, and the laundry folded, and tomorrow's breakfast in the crockpot, with tomorrow's dinner - pulled from our once-a-month cooking thawing in the fridge, while we work out for 20 minutes on odd days and 40 minutes on even days, and our hair is always done, we're makeup ready, our fridges are stocked, and the craft closet bursting with ideas for that quick perfect afternoon art project that we'll place on our recycled wood and mod podged adorned hand painted chalkboard.And, in reality, it's 8am and we're just getting up. The baby was up all night, or the toddler sick, or honestly, we were just tired. We get our coffee and flip on facebook and our stream is flooded with stuff people have already done {I always tell myself -- different time zones} and we're racing to catch up with this never before except for the last hundred years perfect never feel like you're failing mom ideal that is exhausting.You need to start to see all you do accomplish in a day. All the smiles of encouragement, meals made, clothes changed, books read, and more. Just like I wrote yesterday - we make mistakes {ten things moms need to remember} - we just need to learn from them. We're out of breath, racing, and exhausted, but truly not failing. Failing means stopping. Not getting up, not trying, not giving. That's not you.
This, like so many other things, is something I'm working on. Working hard. Until I'm exhausted. Some days are harder than others. Sometimes the high of a relaxed Monday where I accomplished so much is washed away by a screaming mom on Tuesday who wanted to publicly tell me that I'm failing as a mom. (And let's be honest, she was probably having a rough mom day herself.) Sometimes Thursday comes around and I've already used up my mental and emotional resources for the week.
But I can look back and know without a doubt that God has been at work in my world this week. If he provided the strangers to jump our car, the helpers to run my kids around, the strength to defend my child to the unglued mom, and the humility to do the right thing and force my son to apologize to the unglued mom...then I know he won't abandon me now.
"And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns." Philippians 1:6 (NLT)
Seriously, will failure ever get off my back? Will I ever function as a non-perfectionist? All I know for sure is that my only hope is allowing God to keep working within me. Even if that work involves faulty car batteries and screaming moms.
One last thing for today...I've shared before that God often uses a particular song to speak to me in the midst of a struggle. Right now I am so drawn to this song:
Just in case you need a little encouragement. :)
Jessica
Monday, January 14, 2013
A Different How-To
Want a quick way to feel bad about yourself?
Well, sure. Who doesn't?
Just follow these simple steps that I've been following in my own life.
Step 1: Assess all the areas in your life that need improvement.
For me, these areas need improvement:
Step 2: Set specific goals to improve these areas.
For me, these are some of the 5,432 goals I set at once:
Step 3: Spend hours on the internet reading about people who have mastered all the areas you're striving to improve.
I spent days with dozens of tabs open on my computer, jumping from blog to blog to read about women who have award-winning houses, plan months of meals at a time using ingredients that they bought for next to nothing, all while raising children who are super polite, clean up after themselves, never cry, and the whole family loves Jesus. Then I became keenly aware of real women in my own world who also seem to be succeeding in the areas where I'm struggling. Then I got on Pinterest to find good visuals of everything I should be doing but I'm not.
Step 4: Compare yourself to other people to see just how far behind you're falling.
Don't waste time justifying the differences ("They're older than I am. They experience the trade-off that comes with having two incomes. They have fewer children. She spends all her free time exercising. She can afford all the gadgets, bins, labels, and space to organize everything.") Just stick to feeling the weight of knowing that everyone else is doing what you can't seem to do. And don't look for other areas where you're already doing well. We're just trying to focus on weaknesses here.
How did you do? Did you follow along to meet me in this place of complete insecurity?
Ok, so I can identify how I got here. I can even joke about it. But I'm still working on how to stop spinning my wheels and get out of this mess. I've been trying to follow my own advice to "just do something" each day. The problem is that I'm trying to do something about everything on my list.
I can feel that I'm right at the edge of burnout. I know it. I need to simplify my life. I need to say "no" to a few things and cut out some things. I just don't know what.
My pastor is preaching a series that is speaking directly to me. I seem to have misplaced my notes from last week, but I'll share them if I find them. Last week, he said something like, "You don't have time to do everything, but you have enough time to do what God has planned for you."
I think there are changes on the horizon for me. I'm not sure what. I think I may have to shift my focus, even away from things I actually want to focus on. I need time to get my footing with Griffin's treatment. I need to figure out how far I'm willing to push my body and how much I'm willing to do for my house. I don't want to lose touch with people and activities that are important to me. I hate thinking about stepping away from things I love, like crafts and some activities. But I know I can't juggle everything. I have to let God help me sift through things and work on what's most important for this season of my life.
I don't see myself cutting out blogging altogether, so I'll still meet you here. :) As I work on figuring all this out, I actually hope that you don't find yourself in the same place. I'll share better how-to's in the future.
Jessica
Well, sure. Who doesn't?
Just follow these simple steps that I've been following in my own life.
Step 1: Assess all the areas in your life that need improvement.
For me, these areas need improvement:
- Organization in my house
- Cleanliness of my house
- Meal planning
- Recipe variation
- Finances
- Health
- My appearance
- Home improvement
- Mothering
- Therapy for Griffin (Asperger's)
Step 2: Set specific goals to improve these areas.
For me, these are some of the 5,432 goals I set at once:
- Follow some program to organize my house room by room
- Set up and follow a cleaning schedule to keep my house immaculate at all times
- Plan meals on a weekly or monthly basis
- Try 1-2 new recipes per week
- Learn how to match up sales and coupons to get cheap and free groceries and necessities
- Set up a budget and follow it
- Somehow cut spending from our already strict budget
- Somehow get to fully restored health after nearly one full year of health issues
- Lose 10 more pounds
- Tone up my whole body before our beach vacation in June
- Refinish our wood floors or install carpeting over old ones
- Repaint kitchen cabinets and replace countertops
- Spruce up our house to get ready to sell it
- Stop yelling at my kids and learn better parenting techniques
- Figure out which resources will be best for Griffin and begin therapy
- Oh, and try to be more relaxed
Step 3: Spend hours on the internet reading about people who have mastered all the areas you're striving to improve.
I spent days with dozens of tabs open on my computer, jumping from blog to blog to read about women who have award-winning houses, plan months of meals at a time using ingredients that they bought for next to nothing, all while raising children who are super polite, clean up after themselves, never cry, and the whole family loves Jesus. Then I became keenly aware of real women in my own world who also seem to be succeeding in the areas where I'm struggling. Then I got on Pinterest to find good visuals of everything I should be doing but I'm not.
Step 4: Compare yourself to other people to see just how far behind you're falling.
Don't waste time justifying the differences ("They're older than I am. They experience the trade-off that comes with having two incomes. They have fewer children. She spends all her free time exercising. She can afford all the gadgets, bins, labels, and space to organize everything.") Just stick to feeling the weight of knowing that everyone else is doing what you can't seem to do. And don't look for other areas where you're already doing well. We're just trying to focus on weaknesses here.
How did you do? Did you follow along to meet me in this place of complete insecurity?
Ok, so I can identify how I got here. I can even joke about it. But I'm still working on how to stop spinning my wheels and get out of this mess. I've been trying to follow my own advice to "just do something" each day. The problem is that I'm trying to do something about everything on my list.
I can feel that I'm right at the edge of burnout. I know it. I need to simplify my life. I need to say "no" to a few things and cut out some things. I just don't know what.
My pastor is preaching a series that is speaking directly to me. I seem to have misplaced my notes from last week, but I'll share them if I find them. Last week, he said something like, "You don't have time to do everything, but you have enough time to do what God has planned for you."
I think there are changes on the horizon for me. I'm not sure what. I think I may have to shift my focus, even away from things I actually want to focus on. I need time to get my footing with Griffin's treatment. I need to figure out how far I'm willing to push my body and how much I'm willing to do for my house. I don't want to lose touch with people and activities that are important to me. I hate thinking about stepping away from things I love, like crafts and some activities. But I know I can't juggle everything. I have to let God help me sift through things and work on what's most important for this season of my life.
I don't see myself cutting out blogging altogether, so I'll still meet you here. :) As I work on figuring all this out, I actually hope that you don't find yourself in the same place. I'll share better how-to's in the future.
Jessica
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Just Do Something
Many of you who have been reading my blog for a while will remember last spring when I made costumes for my church's Easter play. If you missed those, you can click here to read those posts (scroll past the Halloween costume posts).
Those costumes were definitely the most challenging sewing project I have ever tackled. They were challenging for so many reasons. I worked on them for multiple hours per day, everyday, from mid-February until the very end of March. I would have been quite challenged to just make one of those costumes. But I had to make three. With difficult fabrics, patterns that weren't the right size, a billion trims and details, and sewing techniques I had never done before.
Every single day, I looked at the pile (room full...) of costume supplies and thought, "There's no way I can do this."
It was true. There was no way I could complete those costumes that day. But I could do the next step on the current costume that day.
So every single day I went through the process of being overwhelmed, taking a breath, and just pressing forward on the very next step. I just focused on the single next step on the instructions for the current costume. That's how I made three of the most challenging projects in the allotted time.
I had to just do something each day.
At the same time that I was working on the costumes, I was also trying to lose weight. Bleh. I'm even tired of the word weight. Such a life-long struggle for me. And last year I found myself at my heaviest weight ever. I was fresh off of several failed attempts to jump start my weight loss as well.
I was overwhelmed with the knowledge that I needed to lose about 50 pounds. How could anyone lose 50 pounds?
So every single day I went through the process of being overwhelmed, taking a breath, and just working on what I could do for that day. Each day, I could meet my Spark People goals for my food intake and meet my exercise goals for the day. I didn't have to lose all the weight in one day.
I just had to do something each day.
This principle applies to whatever you're working on right now. If you're trying to be more organized, clean one thing today. Your silverware drawer, your bills stack, one dresser drawer, your car, etc. Just pick something and do it. Every time you enjoy that new organized/clean nook, you'll be motivated to do one more tiny space. And pretty soon, all your little (and big) spaces will be organized.
If you're trying to cook more, choose one new recipe to make for dinner today. Tomorrow you can work on planning one week's worth of meals.
If you want to lose weight, log onto Spark People's website or download their app (or find a similar one), and figure out your goals. Tomorrow you can start logging food. The next day you can start finding ways to burn your calories for the day. You get a sense of accomplishment each day as you look at your daily goals and see that you've landed within your range.
I think you get the idea. Sometimes it helps to back up and look at the big picture. Sometimes you have to focus at the immediate task at hand and ignore the enormity of the big picture. When it comes to reaching big goals, I'm a task-focused kind of girl.
Now it's your turn. What can you do TODAY to get you one tiny step closer to your goal?
Jessica
Those costumes were definitely the most challenging sewing project I have ever tackled. They were challenging for so many reasons. I worked on them for multiple hours per day, everyday, from mid-February until the very end of March. I would have been quite challenged to just make one of those costumes. But I had to make three. With difficult fabrics, patterns that weren't the right size, a billion trims and details, and sewing techniques I had never done before.
Every single day, I looked at the pile (room full...) of costume supplies and thought, "There's no way I can do this."
It was true. There was no way I could complete those costumes that day. But I could do the next step on the current costume that day.
So every single day I went through the process of being overwhelmed, taking a breath, and just pressing forward on the very next step. I just focused on the single next step on the instructions for the current costume. That's how I made three of the most challenging projects in the allotted time.
I had to just do something each day.
At the same time that I was working on the costumes, I was also trying to lose weight. Bleh. I'm even tired of the word weight. Such a life-long struggle for me. And last year I found myself at my heaviest weight ever. I was fresh off of several failed attempts to jump start my weight loss as well.
I was overwhelmed with the knowledge that I needed to lose about 50 pounds. How could anyone lose 50 pounds?
So every single day I went through the process of being overwhelmed, taking a breath, and just working on what I could do for that day. Each day, I could meet my Spark People goals for my food intake and meet my exercise goals for the day. I didn't have to lose all the weight in one day.
I just had to do something each day.
This principle applies to whatever you're working on right now. If you're trying to be more organized, clean one thing today. Your silverware drawer, your bills stack, one dresser drawer, your car, etc. Just pick something and do it. Every time you enjoy that new organized/clean nook, you'll be motivated to do one more tiny space. And pretty soon, all your little (and big) spaces will be organized.
If you're trying to cook more, choose one new recipe to make for dinner today. Tomorrow you can work on planning one week's worth of meals.
If you want to lose weight, log onto Spark People's website or download their app (or find a similar one), and figure out your goals. Tomorrow you can start logging food. The next day you can start finding ways to burn your calories for the day. You get a sense of accomplishment each day as you look at your daily goals and see that you've landed within your range.
I think you get the idea. Sometimes it helps to back up and look at the big picture. Sometimes you have to focus at the immediate task at hand and ignore the enormity of the big picture. When it comes to reaching big goals, I'm a task-focused kind of girl.
Now it's your turn. What can you do TODAY to get you one tiny step closer to your goal?
Jessica
Saturday, December 29, 2012
New Year's
The last couple years, I've heard sermons and read devotionals knocking New Year's resolutions. I personally love this time of year. I think it's time to let New Year's resolutions off the hook and take advantage of what they offer.
All year long, I get consumed in the day-to-day. I shift into survival mode. I juggle schedules, remember important events, and do anything I can to keep my family moving in the right direction.
Wrapping up one year and preparing for a new one offers me the opportunity to step away from the daily grind and assess where I've been and where I'm going.
This is the time of year when I look back over the last year. I acknowledge every hardship and feel thankful to be on the other side of most of the difficulties. I give myself credit for any area where I've grown personally. I see more clearly how God has been present and working with me every single day. I reflect on all the good stuff and offer prayers of gratitude for blessings great and small.
This time of year is also the time when I suddenly realize that change is possible. The hard stuff doesn't have to keep being hard. Eventually babies sleep through the night, weight gets worked off, and I figure out more tricks to keep my house organized. On New Year's Eve, I take a deep breath and allow myself to feel hope and anticipation.
My resolutions have almost always been about three things:
My house needs repairs, updates, cleaning, organizing, and purging. I don't even know where to focus this year.
In terms of my performance, I know that God is still working on me and my mental battles. I'm learning to stop the negative conversations I have with myself about things I say and do and things others say and do. I think for now I'll keep working on learning to show grace to myself and others.
When I try to reflect on 2012, my recollection is completely overshadowed by the whole process that led to Griffin's Asperger's diagnosis. I can't really remember other milestones right this minute. So maybe my starting point should be to take a serious look at the last year and acknowledge other hurdles we cleared and blessings we received. The fact that all three of my children are alive and healthy is actually enough for me.
I hope this New Year's you'll pause and take a little time to reflect on the past and gear up for a hopeful future. There's nothing wrong with setting goals and making resolutions (in my book). I think it takes a little processing time to close one chapter and start writing the next. Now is a great time for that.
Here's to all the possibilities of a new year!
Jessica
P.S. Here are two great free printables if you need help with your New Year's resolutions!
All year long, I get consumed in the day-to-day. I shift into survival mode. I juggle schedules, remember important events, and do anything I can to keep my family moving in the right direction.
Wrapping up one year and preparing for a new one offers me the opportunity to step away from the daily grind and assess where I've been and where I'm going.
This is the time of year when I look back over the last year. I acknowledge every hardship and feel thankful to be on the other side of most of the difficulties. I give myself credit for any area where I've grown personally. I see more clearly how God has been present and working with me every single day. I reflect on all the good stuff and offer prayers of gratitude for blessings great and small.
This time of year is also the time when I suddenly realize that change is possible. The hard stuff doesn't have to keep being hard. Eventually babies sleep through the night, weight gets worked off, and I figure out more tricks to keep my house organized. On New Year's Eve, I take a deep breath and allow myself to feel hope and anticipation.
My resolutions have almost always been about three things:
- My body (lose weight, tone up, dress better, accessorize more, etc.)
- My house (organize clutter, keep house cleaner, incorporate meal schedules, fix house problems, update decorations, etc.)
- My performance (be a gentler mom, be a more supportive wife, pray more, read my Bible more, mend relationships, etc.)
My house needs repairs, updates, cleaning, organizing, and purging. I don't even know where to focus this year.
In terms of my performance, I know that God is still working on me and my mental battles. I'm learning to stop the negative conversations I have with myself about things I say and do and things others say and do. I think for now I'll keep working on learning to show grace to myself and others.
When I try to reflect on 2012, my recollection is completely overshadowed by the whole process that led to Griffin's Asperger's diagnosis. I can't really remember other milestones right this minute. So maybe my starting point should be to take a serious look at the last year and acknowledge other hurdles we cleared and blessings we received. The fact that all three of my children are alive and healthy is actually enough for me.
I hope this New Year's you'll pause and take a little time to reflect on the past and gear up for a hopeful future. There's nothing wrong with setting goals and making resolutions (in my book). I think it takes a little processing time to close one chapter and start writing the next. Now is a great time for that.
Here's to all the possibilities of a new year!
Jessica
P.S. Here are two great free printables if you need help with your New Year's resolutions!
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Sowing Seeds
I've been sowing seeds of discontentment. Do you know what grows when you plant discontentment? It ain't pretty.
It started several weeks ago. I went to a friend's house for the first time for a play date, and I fell in love with her house. The size, the layout, and oh the amazing way she decorated it. And, yes, it was amazingly clean as well. I didn't feel jealous; I felt inspired.
Jared and I renewed our on-again-off-again online search for a new house. I looked around our house and my mind overflowed with ideas of how to improve our small, outdated, unfinished house. When the inspiration failed to materialize into actual change, a seed of discontentment was planted.
Then Jared and I were walking through Target on a date one night. I saw two boys' shirts next to each other on a display, one that Nolan would love and one that Griffin would love. Right there between the boys' jeans and the clearance section, I threw an adult tantrum. I ranted about how we never get to buy our kids clothes that they would love or would specifically look good on them, and we just have to accept whatever hand-me-downs we're given or whatever random pieces I can find on clearance. Another seed of discontentment was planted.
Then I noticed a friend's daughter wearing a head-to-toe coordinated name-brand outfit. She just looked so cute, and it made her mom look so put together as well. I mentally repeated the kids' clothes tantrum, this time specific to how I'm missing out on the joy of dressing a daughter because we have to piece together clearance items and ill-fitting clothing. Another seed.
I just kept planting seeds everyday. My shoes are old. We buy cheap food. I can't decorate my house to reflect my style. We can't afford to buy nice Christmas gifts for the people we love. We can't rent out cool places for our kids to have amazing birthday parties with their friends. Seed after seed.
Last Monday I got to eat dinner with a very dear friend, someone I've been friends with since 6th grade. Our conversation was full of sharing, encouraging, and pushing each other to seek God more and more. It was amazing. And then with only about 15 more minutes left together, I let my ugly side show.
She made a very casual comment about someone she knows who eats dinner out (or take-out) every night. I was already choking on my own guilt over spending my family's precious money on eating dinner out this one time. The pretty Christian outside me cracked, and those full-grown vines of discontentment came spewing out.
My poor friend offered her instinctual Godly encouragement. But I knew that my growing problem needed to be addressed.
So I prayed on my drive home, and God actually answered me right then and there. His answer wasn't what I was expecting.
For all the years that we have struggled financially, I have always thought that we needed to be better stewards of our money if we wanted God to bless us with more money. So every single month that we ran out of money (i.e., every single month), I assumed I must have messed something up. I should have used more coupons. I shouldn't have bought special foods to try a new recipe. We didn't need to eat out on our date. I should have picked a cheaper craft project for that gift I made.
In addition to trying to manage our spending better, we increased our giving. We have always tithed 10% of our income, but we added additional giving toward special projects at church or charitable causes we heard about. I knew that if our hands were open to passing along our blessings, then God would continue to poor out more on us.
Years of my theories have gotten me nowhere. Except frustrated and surrounded by the full-grown ugliness that grows when you plant seeds of discontentment.
So, do you want to know what God told me to do when I talked to him about my financial frustration? He told me to enjoy spending what I have.
Can you believe that?
I had to check to see if I heard him right, and it turns out I did. He reminded me of how I get a sick feeling in my stomach every time I check out anywhere, whether it's buying basic groceries or that new much-needed coat I just bought for Jared on sale with free shipping. I loathe myself with every purchase. I'm never satisfied with how low my total is or how necessary my purchase is. I never enjoy spending the money God has given us.
And if I don't enjoy what he's already given me, why would he give me more?
I thought I had to make the best possible use of what we have, but it turns out God is more concerned with my attitude toward what we have.
I truly feel like my motives are good: I want to be responsible with what God gives us. But God is now telling me over and over to enjoy and take delight in using what we have.
And here's the kicker: if I'm enjoying everything we have and spending what money we do have, then I won't care if God is giving us more money.
So, this week I have enjoyed every purchase. I loved the chance to buy take-out dinner one night this week. I bought supplies for Griffin and Nora's birthday parties, and instead of worrying about how to feed our extended family and pull off the parties, I felt happy imagining each kid knowing that all of these details are just for them. Nolan needed new shoes for basketball, and instead of feeling nervous about this unexpected expense, I delighted in buying shoes that Nolan will think are super cool and will make him run faster. We'll probably still run out of money before the next payday, but at least I will have had a month's worth of satisfaction and enjoyment, even if I don't quite have a month's worth of money. That last super tight week of the month will be a lot easier to survive after three weeks of enjoying what we have.
I know that there will still be hard moments. Jealousy will try to creep in, and I might again taste the frustration of not being able to do and have the things we want. But I'm focusing on learning, and therefore teaching my kids, that we can enjoy everything that we have to the point that we don't mind the gaps left unfilled.
Jessica
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