Category Archives: Confessions

Now vs. Then

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Shoveling…that’s what I’m doing these days. Shoveling my way out of laundry, diapers, and sticky messes. I find myself getting frustrated and wondering why it’s not working like it used to. I remember when I had two kids I was able to keep the house fairly tidy, the children were bathed on a regular basis, I blogged daily, cooked a new recipe almost three times a week, and went to the gym every morning.
Why isn’t it working now?
Finally, because I’m so slow sometimes, it dawned on me that things are so different now.
I have THREE kids, not TWO. The oldest wants to read, the middle one wants to play quietly with toys, the youngest wants to climb into the kitchen sink and hang from the rafters. So different then when I had two babies who’s needs were basically the same.
Our church now is very young compared to the church we were in “way back then” which was more established.
I wasn’t homeschooling then, I am now.
Why do I keep trying to squeeze my present into the past? It’s only frustrating me and leaves me with a bigger pile of mental and physical “stuff” to shovel out of.
Thankfully, I know that my identity is not in a tidy house, and perfectly synchronized schedule. It’s in Christ, who is so, so, so very patient with me.
I have to remind myself that going to the gym every morning, or three new meals a week are not eternal things.
So for now, I only cook food that don’t require recipes. I don’t blog as often. My house is a wreck because instead of cleaning it I take my three wiggly girls for a walk to meet our new neighbors and establish relationships.
So yeah, we eat lots of sandwiches, we take naps, we make messes, and pull out our clothes from large piles found on top of the dryer. We buy bread, we play PBSKids.org, and I haven’t seen the inside of a gym in ages.
And those things are not eternal, but my girls souls are. So if I’m washing dishes and I notice one sulking, I leave the dishes and talk to Miss Pouty, give her the Gospel, pray with her, correct her and then move on to something else.
The dishes will get done, eventually.
And that, is where we’re at NOW.
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Open your face!

One of my little girls has the habit of frowning, she is very emotional and can turn on the tears just.like.that. We’ve talked about habits and we’re working with her to overcome this. I want her to know I’m on her side and one of our key phrases with her is “Open your face!” meaning, stop scrunching it, lift those lips up into a smile! and no more whining! That little phrase usually keeps her from melting down into a puddle of tears over a broken cookie, lost toy, or misplaced shoe.
Yesterday, I had to keep telling myself to open my face.
I don’t know what it was exactly but I just found myself feeling so ruffled. Two long weeks, little sleep at night, teething toddler…I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t grumpy, I wasn’t mad…I was a mixture of all three and tried to hide it all morning.
Ah! But then Brian took me to a local greenhouse/plant store. It’s not in town, so we drove a about 20 minutes on a long stretch of highway and pulled into a small, manicured jungle.
So glad I grabbed my camera.
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All those plants made the air easier to breathe, the birds were everywhere and singing, bright colors surrounded us and I felt so much better.
We went back home with a few trees and bushes in the back of our car, and I for one, had an open face. 🙂

What I did yesterday

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Went out for lunch.
Drove by our land.
Took a long nap.
Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork.
Teething.
Migraine.
Cool weather.
Play date for girls.
No school.
Two grocery stores.
Ate salad for dinner.
Ate muffins for dessert.
Saw my dad.
Saw my sister.
Chatted with my aunt.
Chatted with my other sister.
Went to bed.
How was your day?

Go away

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Wishing dirty laundry would just go away.
Forever.
And always.
Never to be seen again.
Wouldn’t that be nice?

Confession time again.

Here’s the deal:

I don’t like being in a group of just women. I find it awkward and unbalanced. I don’t know what to say, so usually I just don’t say anything. My mom has confessed to being the same way, maybe it’s genetic?
I don’t do “girls night” and often wonder why other women enjoy those kind of events.
I realize I’m the strange one.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be the only woman in a group of men, either. But if I had to choose between the two…I’ll sit by Brian in a room full of men, thanks.
I just think things are more comfortable if there is a mixture of both men and women.
Why am I this way?
Perhaps it’s because my two best friends growing up were the only girls in a family with three brothers, each. Their brothers were always around.
Maybe it’s because I don’t like drama, and women tend to be more dramatic.
After my friends and I got married and would have the occasional get together the men were always there. We wouldn’t think of leaving them out, we need them. It’s more fun when the guys are there…at least, that’s how I feel.
Ladies Night, Ladies Bible Study, Ladies Luncheons, sleepovers, Ladies Night Out…I get invited to these a lot when I’m in the United States, it seems more popular there than it is here in Paraguay.
When invited to one of these Women Only events I usually hem and haw my way out, find a decent excuse, or in some situations just make myself go because I’m told it’s good for me. Society says it is, and sometimes even preachers say it is.
I’ve heard many sermons directed to husbands and almost always is the “make sure your wife has time with her girlfriends” line.
I always turn to Brian and give him the “please don’t” look.
I don’t mind one on one with other women, I enjoy that…but ask me to come to your girls only party and I’ll break out in hives just thinking about it.
Any other women out there like that?

Confession number one

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Abbie wearing pajama pants, crocs on the wrong feet, oversized Paraguayan jersey and a one size too small hoodie. At a public park.
My children rarely wear matching clothes. Not even in public. It’s pretty low on my priority list. They have beautiful clothes, matching clothes, cute outfits, you name it. They are now at the point where they can dress themselves and I love this. “Go get dressed” I say, they run off and come back clothed. It’s awesome. What they choose to wear doesn’t really concern me. Is this bad? Should I put more effort into how they look? I don’t think so…and I certainly hope not, because I don’t see myself caring anytime soon. As long as they are clean, modest, decent, and warm or cool enough, it goes. Sometimes their combinations are pretty cute too. Kind of like Punky Brewster.
I like fashion, I guess. I can tell when someone is tastefully dressed or not. When it’s time to get dressy I like classic things (pencil skirts, black dress, etc.) I just don’t have a passion for it like some do. I am really glad some people do though, otherwise I would not get to watch What Not To Wear.