Confessions of a SAH Mom

I’ve read blog posts about the lives of stay-at-home moms. I may have even written one or two myself. I don’t remember. But anyway, most of them describe a life so difficult and impossible and filled to the brim that it just makes you exhausted even reading it. And I’m sure for the most part, they are true. Perhaps slightly exaggerated truth, but still truth.


But SAH moms…can you even imagine if you had to go TO a job, like an additional job, Monday through Friday?? Like a typical work week? Can you imagine doing that and still having to do your other mom stuff? Because I really can’t.


And so this is meant as a shout out to all of the many moms who work outside the house! You are amazing! I have no idea how you do it. Seriously, no idea. And I think that there may be some of you who think quietly or not so quietly, “What do stay-at-home moms do all day?!” Well, I’m going to confess to you what I do from 8:00-3:00…now that my two oldest are in school all day. I can’t speak for other stay-at-home moms. I can only speak for myself.


I get very tempted by my bed. Because it’s here and I have to walk past it so many times. And I take naps. Not every day, but like 3 out of 5. It’s true. I also take like 30-45 minutes baths while my kids play or watch t.v. Again, not every day, but most. I read. I watch t.v. while I fold laundry. And sometimes I fold it slower on purpose. I blog when I should be cleaning the kids’ rooms. Like right now. This is me avoiding work. And I don’t do all the cute little SAH mom things like go to the library or play groups or make crafts or whatever. I seriously just don’t. I complain on facebook about the things I should be doing rather than just doing them. It’s true.


Now, I do work hard. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like it’s pure leisure all day. But I’m just honestly saying publicly that there is empty space in my day. Empty space where I am not productive. In theory, my house should be clean because I have time to do it, but I just don’t want to. And it is hard having kids home all day, but my reality and the reality of many of my friends, is that our kids aren’t home all day, every day. It’s true, ladies. You know it’s true.


So working moms, if you’ve ever felt judgement or insensitivity from myself or any other stay-at-home moms, I’m sorry. Seriously. Not that it’s like a competition for who has the more difficult task, but I honestly have no idea how you do it. Just being a mom, regardless of whatever else we have to do, is a very busy job. We all probably rock in our own right. But to the ones who have themselves and their kids fed and dressed and out the door by 8:00, go to a job all day that they may or may not love, and then pick up kids, get dinner ready, help with homework, baths, etc., etc. etc…. YOU are superheros.


And don’t ever let some stay-at-home mom, who probably stayed in her pajamas until 11:00, tell you any different.

My church My life

I saw a yard sign this morning that said, “My church is changing my life.” I honestly don’t even remember which church is changing this person’s life because I got stuck on the statement. And I’m sure some of you reading probably go to this church. So you can either choose to get offended and defensive or actually think about what I’m saying. Either way is perfectly fine with me.


My church is changing My life. It wasn’t bold on the sign, but it might as well have been. How about The Church is changing my life? Or Jesus is changing my life? Or maybe even My church is changing lives? I still don’t like that one, but it’s better than the original. Or how about The Church is changing lives? But that’s not specific enough to one certain church.


Because the point of the sign is to get people in the door, right? Get them there and then their lives can be changed. And while I think this particular sign is a blatant and tangible disregard for The Great Commission, I have to say that I think most church attenders, members, and staff feel the same way. This church was just bold enough not to hide it or disguise it as something else.


Church, we have to do more than just get them, whoever they are, to come to our church building. If that’s all we care about, we are totally missing the point. And if we only want to sing praises to our church, denomination, preacher, building, or programs instead of to Jesus Christ, for our changed lives, then we are making The Church our church. We are taking The Body away from whom it belongs to and making it our own.


And if you say our church doesn’t do that, then you’ve just proven my point. And while some church cultures may be more outward focused than others, there is still the underlying thought that they have to come to us to for life change. And I’m just as guilty of it as the man or woman who put that sign in their yard. If we’re honest, really really painfully honest, I think most of us can see that most churches exist for the attenders who go there, not the community that surrounds it. But The Church, the body of believers, are called to be so much more than people who occupy a building.

What if?

He’s so funny and sharp witted. He is creative. He’s beautiful to look at. He loves to cuddle.


But he’s also angry…a lot. He spends much of his time angry. Angry because someone said something “wrong.” Angry because someone touched something they “shouldn’t have.” Angry because someone is singing a song he doesn’t like. Angry because he doesn’t like what we’re eating. Angry because he doesn’t like where we’re going. Angry because he thinks someone is making fun of him and they’re not…or maybe they are. Angry. Angry. Angry.


He’s almost always angry, near anger, just over being angry, or we are wary of the impending anger. I watch him. I look for signs that it’s coming. I try to ward it off. I try to keep the peace. But the peace doesn’t keep. Never for very long.


And since he’s angry a lot and since I tend to match his moods, I’m angry a lot. When he gets angry, I typically get angrier. When he gets loud, I get louder. When he loses his mind, I lose mine even more. I match his crazy. And honestly, it works. It works in that it keeps him from escalating to a point that we can’t handle. It keeps his “spells” in the realm of 3-10 minutes or so. And if you’re the parent of a child who has anger or behavior issues, then you know 3-10 minutes isn’t really that bad. But it re-occurs ALL DAY LONG.


But what if, instead of matching his anger for anger…what if his anger was matched with gentleness, kindness, self control? What if I parent him the way God parents me? With a quiet calm. Unwavering. Unreactive to my selfishness and immaturity. With undeserved patience. What if being met with these things rather than anger actually helps him control his anger?


And yes, perhaps this is a no brainer, but when you’re either in the storm or the eye of it almost all the time, it’s really hard to see a solution. And we’ve been in some form of storm with him most of his life. My post yesterday opened my eyes to this even though I didn’t intend for it to open my eyes to anything.


So I’ll let y’all know how it goes. I’ll let you know if I can do it.

Just. Obey.

All day I tell him, “Just obey.”

Just. Obey.

I know what he needs. I have his best interests at heart. All he needs to do is listen to my voice and obey. But, he can’t. He won’t. My voice gets clouded out by the other stuff in his head. He questions me. He doesn’t trust me. He doesn’t always think that I love him. He thinks he knows better. He argues for the sake of argument.

Oh, please. Just obey.

He has to have a plan. He has to know what is next. He has to have it laid out. He worries that something will go wrong. He has to be in control. He decides how the day will go before it’s begun.

Through tears…Oh, Buddy. Why are you this way? Please, please just obey me. I adore you. Please listen and obey. Can you even hear me at all?

Can you even hear me at all?

You should have no other gods before me. Just obey.

 

But, God, you don’t understand. My kids aren’t gods. I have to take care of them. They have to consume me, don’t they? I don’t worship Phillip. I don’t worship my stuff, God. I don’t do that.

 

Whatever you did not do for the least of these, you did not do for me. Obey.

 

But God, I’m doing the best I can. You don’t know how hard this is. You don’t know how much they frustrate and try me. How can I care for anybody else when I can barely care for the ones in my home?

 

Oh, please. Just obey.

 

But God, I’ve asked for things in your name and you’ve never answered. I’ve prayed for blessings that you never delivered. I deserve more than this. Do you even love me at all??

 

Whoever can be trusted with little can also be trusted with much.

 

But, God. You don’t really know how it is. You’re not even making sense.

 

Why are you this way? Please, please just obey me. I adore you.

 

I need to know your plans before I can do them. You lay it out for me in a way that makes sense, and if I think it’s doable, then I’ll do it! I will say ‘yes’ to you if you just prove to me that I won’t fail. The ball is in your court, not mine. I’m done.

 

Please. Just. Obey.

 

But something might go wrong.

 

Can you even hear me at all? Why can’t you trust me?

Please, just obey.

Getting Valentiny

So since I waited until the day before Valentine’s Day to actually think about the Valentine’s treats for my kids’ classes, I found myself (again) in a bit of a bind. Last year I *only* had 40 kids to get goodies for. I prepared ahead and made these and put lollipops in their hands…


valentines


I could just go get the paper Valentine’s from the store, but I really wanted to do something cute without spending much money. So I decided to use our left over candy and fabric from Mikey and Katie’s bday party to make little goodie bags. So that’s what Katie, Britt, and I have been doing this morning while the boys are in school. I will let Mikey help with his this evening when he gets home. They’re cute, but they’re a pain. So we have done a whopping 14! We only have 43 to go. Ugh. I better get back to it. At this rate, I’ll finish by tomorrow morning.


valentineblog

You can sing all you want to.

Jen Hatmaker came to our church. She’s great. Seriously funny, like crazy funny. I need to try to read Interrupted again. Last time I tried, I felt hopeless and annoyed and stopped reading. I didn’t want to be her friend.


This video was played last night. It’s a great summary of her message. “You can sing all you want to and still get it wrong.” That line has been going through my head all day. I’ve been “singing” in many different ways and still getting it all very wrong. For a lot of years. You can have a great marriage and still get it wrong. You can adopt three kids and still get it wrong. You can be involved in selfless things and still get it wrong. You can do do do do do… and still get it wrong. And I’d like to maybe start getting a few things more right.