This morning one of my daughters asked me to buy more cereal.
I said, we have cereal. Dad got this cereal at Sam's club and paid $2 dollars less for it because it was crumpled. The store had to reduce the price because some people would not buy crumpled cereal.
Well, I want to eat different cereal, I am tired of Cheerios. Pay day is Thursday, we need to eeek out what we have until then.
"Mom, why do we live pay check to pay check???"
Sigh.
I let that question enter me like a bullet, and for a moment I felt like a complete failure.
"We don't always live pay check to pay check, and we have food in this house, plenty of food, just not food you want right now."
"Its cold in here, why don't you turn up the heat, its because we can't afford it right? We live pay check to pay check. You just said we have to eeeek everything out until Thursday!"
Sigh.
My kids have heard this multiple times that is the "wrong" way to live. They have heard of stories of money falling from heaven, and think its going to land in our house. They want the heat on 70 all the time. They have heard the word "budget" like it is synonomus with scripture reading. That it is a "sin" to use a charge card.
Well, let me tell you something.
Back when Kristen was 2 and I was 9 mos. prego with Elizabeth, we spent maybe $80 a week on groceries, maybe
Heating oil was 88 cents a gallon! we used 100 gallons a month for $88 dollars and I did keep the heat on 70, all the time.
Our rent was $350 a month in the house we were living, a year later, we owner financed said house for 32,000 which then turned our mortgage payment into $329.08 for 12 years.
lights, gas, electricity. all much less that we pay today.
Of course, we were living on 21,000 at that time. We paid maybe $20 a paycheck for health insurance. And we had a lovely benefactor named Bill who felt led to send us money each month to pick up the gaps. We cannot thank Bill enough, ever. And others who felt led to donate to our household in need.
Fast forward to 2013.
5 people living in a house. Just our electric bill alone is $150 to $200. We are in over $1000 in heating costs this season, and the tank is below 1/4 full as I write this blog. Our food bill rivals our mortgage,which including taxes and insurances is almost triple what we paid in Howland. But, when we bought this house, we had our 20% down, and Carl was making less than he does now, 10 years later.
Why does it feel like we make less?
The costs of life have quadrupled at a rapid pace. And not just for us, for everyone.
And then along came this little blessing named Daniel about 3 and 1/2 years ago, which brought me home once again.
When I hear how wrong it is to live pay check to pay check I want to scream.
I want to scream because it is saying to me, well, you know you can't afford to be a homemaker, so why try, because you are wrong to live pay check to pay check. You are wrong to use a credit card, so put that baby in daycare and don't look back. You are wrong to ask your kids to eeek out the cereal until Thursday, because you are living pay check to pay check.
Well, I gotta tell you, we have always lived this way.
Always. We have never had a big savings account, ever.
But we have always had enough.
We have never driven a brand new car, ever.
But our kids don't even know life without their mother.
We did not have a bank loan on a house until our Bangor home, because we did not make enough money to get a bank loan.
And when I did work, it was in a school, on their schedule or less, and they did not miss me because they were at school while I worked.
We have always had debt, because we had to pay for life all on our own.
I can't tell you how many (most) of our friends who had parents who helped them out with college. Or a down payment for a house, or co-signed on a loan for a car, or paid their medical bills like teeth while in college. Or gave them a place to live when they were struggling. I had a tooth pulled because I could not afford a root canal, and yes, that went on a credit card. I had college loans to pay and so did Carl.
But guess what? we paid them.
We will be debt free completely eventually, because we do pay all our bills every month, and man, there are a lot of them.
I am not asking for an offering, really. or sympathy of any kind whatsoever.
But here's the deal.
If you are reading this, and you have made the statement before that it is wrong to live pay check to pay check. Could you reconsider that there are actually responsible, working people, who are not only taking care of a boat load of bills, medical included, giving to their church whenever possible, and donating oodles of volunteer hours to a variety of organizations, and trying to live on one income to the best of their ability?
Just give it a wee bit of consideration.
Because it makes a hard case for the woman who wants to be at home, knows what it is like to live on one income, and knows it takes a leap of major faith at times.
I happen to find it rewarding, this life of homemaker. I have had many many many jobs. I have an education. I have used my degree. Now I am using it in different ways.
Thanks for reading and considering a different way of looking at things.
Love, as always,
from my Nest to Your.
Julie
Monday, December 16, 2013
Monday, December 9, 2013
Going to church with children is NOT for the faint of heart.
I saw my friend Catherine in line ahead of me to check Daniel in for Sunday school yesterday. She looked at me, I looked at her, we both sighed. No words needed. And then I made the statement, " Going to church with children is not for the faint of heart."
I think I remember the days when leaving the house was simple. I believe my routine used to go like this, awaken after a full nights sleep, get up, take a shower, drink coffee, eat breakfast, blow dry my locks, curl said locks, apply precision make up, IRON clothes, (I think I may have done that 18 years ago), wear said pressed clothes in very small sizes, put on lovely shoes, boots, whatever, run out the door, jump in car, tool about to church.
I think those things occurred, its been so long now, it seems as if maybe that is something I made up.
My Sunday a.m. had one goal in mind. Get to the 9a.m. service because I wanted to get home early, make dinner, so we could all eat before getting our Christmas Tree. I like the earlier service because there is usually less children in Daniel's class and he is fresh, less prone to a melt down when I leave him, which means there is no Mommy melt down I have to recover from the first 10 minutes of service while trying to "worship".
Mistake #1 Thinking that giving a boy a bath who detests baths would be a good idea on a morning I needed to be out the door by 8:30a.m. Lets just say both Carl and I were traumatized by the whole event, we still can't figure out why this kid hates baths. sigh. But suffice to say, both the boy and I were crying by the time is was over.
Mistake #2 Planning on getting a Christmas Tree.... Why do I attempt to plan anything that includes 5 people that have to come to an agreement that said activity will occur. My dear friend Aleyne posted recently about simply "giving up" with the massive amt. of decorating and such because of how difficult it can be to get everyone to help, agree, etc, I totally got her blog yesterday. I am like, forget it folks, just forget it.
Mistake #3 Coming into church late, because said boy did not want me to leave his class, coupled with the fact I was late getting him into Sunday School, due to said bath & trauma. The sanctuary is completely dark, only the stage is lit up where the singers are... The usher, very nice young man says to me, there are a couple of seats 2 rows from the back I can show you too. OH, is there anything down front? I have an attention span of a kindergartner. hehehehe, giggle. He takes me to the VERY FRONT ROW of the church. Is there anyone sitting in that front row?? Obviously NOT. There I sit, alone, in the very front row of the church. yup. that'll learn ya. is what I am thinking. no possible way to be distracted, except for the fact I am in the front row, alone. sigh.
I get home, make dinner, and nothing goes right after that. Suffice to say, Life is not for the Faint of Heart with Children, Infants, Toddlers, Teenagers. It simply is not. I posted today that I would give my self a generous 90% of loving the life of being parent. I had a 10% day yesterday. Yearning for the simplicity of my early years of marriage, the coming and going as I pleased. The working to make money, HAVING money to spend on whatever without a thought.
And then my dear sweet husband takes me to McDonalds for our weekly "date". We have mastered what we call the $8 dollar date or less. We even had coupons for our latte and white chocolate, which, that date costs us $2.50. After a church service Carl decided one Sunday we definately needed time alone on a regular basis, thus came the $8 date. We are becoming really good at it!!!!
So, I would conclude with the question I have asked myself so many times over the past 19 years of parenting. Why? Why do I do it? Why do I bring my kids to church? Why bother. Its hard, annoying at times, they dont like it, esp the being left part, why? Well, at 2:30a.m. I came up with an answer. Because, I want God to part of their reality. Can you get this without leaving your doorstep? Sure. I am sure you can. But somehow, the consistency of setting aside a day, Sunday for us, to go to church, despite the work of it, makes it special. I was headed to church 4 days after giving birth to Kristen. I was headed to church 3 days after giving birth to Elizabeth, with a toddling 2 year old in tow, thinking I would have to do it alone, accept my husband got up that morning and said, I will help you, no matter what my faith is currently. And with Daniel, he was 2 weeks old, we sat down front, never worried about how loud the music was, he always slept through it. no biggie. I get this internal "check" if you will when I begin to doubt the sanity of this. But when my daughters are reading the word with out prompting, or they are asking me to order them a Bible study, or they are making moral choices based on their faith, even though they are not surrounded by necessarily Christian values all day. Or when Daniel can actually tell me the Bible story he heard. Or simply, you know Mom, Jesus does love me, no matter what. I know its the right thing to do, this crazy Sunday morning thing.
Sunday morning then translates in Monday, which goes in Tuesday, and Wednesday, and beyond. Thats the life goal of believing and serving, right?
So, I made it through the horrible, bad, no good, day. But, as I reflect, it was neither, horrible or bad. It was developing in me my need for time alone with God, which I did before I went to bed. It made me realize how thankful I am for my husband who stays calm when I am cursing in the bathroom, sorry hon. That I can do the days, whether they be "90% days or 10% days". It can be all good.
So here's to honesty! I am living A Blessed Mess.
and I still have my sanity.
xo, Julie
I think I remember the days when leaving the house was simple. I believe my routine used to go like this, awaken after a full nights sleep, get up, take a shower, drink coffee, eat breakfast, blow dry my locks, curl said locks, apply precision make up, IRON clothes, (I think I may have done that 18 years ago), wear said pressed clothes in very small sizes, put on lovely shoes, boots, whatever, run out the door, jump in car, tool about to church.
I think those things occurred, its been so long now, it seems as if maybe that is something I made up.
My Sunday a.m. had one goal in mind. Get to the 9a.m. service because I wanted to get home early, make dinner, so we could all eat before getting our Christmas Tree. I like the earlier service because there is usually less children in Daniel's class and he is fresh, less prone to a melt down when I leave him, which means there is no Mommy melt down I have to recover from the first 10 minutes of service while trying to "worship".
Mistake #1 Thinking that giving a boy a bath who detests baths would be a good idea on a morning I needed to be out the door by 8:30a.m. Lets just say both Carl and I were traumatized by the whole event, we still can't figure out why this kid hates baths. sigh. But suffice to say, both the boy and I were crying by the time is was over.
Mistake #2 Planning on getting a Christmas Tree.... Why do I attempt to plan anything that includes 5 people that have to come to an agreement that said activity will occur. My dear friend Aleyne posted recently about simply "giving up" with the massive amt. of decorating and such because of how difficult it can be to get everyone to help, agree, etc, I totally got her blog yesterday. I am like, forget it folks, just forget it.
Mistake #3 Coming into church late, because said boy did not want me to leave his class, coupled with the fact I was late getting him into Sunday School, due to said bath & trauma. The sanctuary is completely dark, only the stage is lit up where the singers are... The usher, very nice young man says to me, there are a couple of seats 2 rows from the back I can show you too. OH, is there anything down front? I have an attention span of a kindergartner. hehehehe, giggle. He takes me to the VERY FRONT ROW of the church. Is there anyone sitting in that front row?? Obviously NOT. There I sit, alone, in the very front row of the church. yup. that'll learn ya. is what I am thinking. no possible way to be distracted, except for the fact I am in the front row, alone. sigh.
I get home, make dinner, and nothing goes right after that. Suffice to say, Life is not for the Faint of Heart with Children, Infants, Toddlers, Teenagers. It simply is not. I posted today that I would give my self a generous 90% of loving the life of being parent. I had a 10% day yesterday. Yearning for the simplicity of my early years of marriage, the coming and going as I pleased. The working to make money, HAVING money to spend on whatever without a thought.
And then my dear sweet husband takes me to McDonalds for our weekly "date". We have mastered what we call the $8 dollar date or less. We even had coupons for our latte and white chocolate, which, that date costs us $2.50. After a church service Carl decided one Sunday we definately needed time alone on a regular basis, thus came the $8 date. We are becoming really good at it!!!!
So, I would conclude with the question I have asked myself so many times over the past 19 years of parenting. Why? Why do I do it? Why do I bring my kids to church? Why bother. Its hard, annoying at times, they dont like it, esp the being left part, why? Well, at 2:30a.m. I came up with an answer. Because, I want God to part of their reality. Can you get this without leaving your doorstep? Sure. I am sure you can. But somehow, the consistency of setting aside a day, Sunday for us, to go to church, despite the work of it, makes it special. I was headed to church 4 days after giving birth to Kristen. I was headed to church 3 days after giving birth to Elizabeth, with a toddling 2 year old in tow, thinking I would have to do it alone, accept my husband got up that morning and said, I will help you, no matter what my faith is currently. And with Daniel, he was 2 weeks old, we sat down front, never worried about how loud the music was, he always slept through it. no biggie. I get this internal "check" if you will when I begin to doubt the sanity of this. But when my daughters are reading the word with out prompting, or they are asking me to order them a Bible study, or they are making moral choices based on their faith, even though they are not surrounded by necessarily Christian values all day. Or when Daniel can actually tell me the Bible story he heard. Or simply, you know Mom, Jesus does love me, no matter what. I know its the right thing to do, this crazy Sunday morning thing.
Sunday morning then translates in Monday, which goes in Tuesday, and Wednesday, and beyond. Thats the life goal of believing and serving, right?
So, I made it through the horrible, bad, no good, day. But, as I reflect, it was neither, horrible or bad. It was developing in me my need for time alone with God, which I did before I went to bed. It made me realize how thankful I am for my husband who stays calm when I am cursing in the bathroom, sorry hon. That I can do the days, whether they be "90% days or 10% days". It can be all good.
So here's to honesty! I am living A Blessed Mess.
and I still have my sanity.
xo, Julie
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
6 and 1/2 years. and now I am done forever.
I know for many Moms, this is a very short time. I have one friend who had 9 children, so I am guessing she has between 16 to 18 years in. What am I talking about???? Breastfeeding. I know, I just lost some of you. Thats okay. For the ones who love it, keep reading, because you will understand what I am talking about.
In the beginning I was absolutely NOT going to breastfeed. I remember sitting at my friend Debbie McMorrans house for dinner, Carl and I were in the midst of hoping for a pregnancy that was far too long in the making, and Debbie brought up breastfeeding. She asked me if I was planning on it. Carl quickly responded, oh absolutely. Its the best thing for any child, yeah, she's doing that. I looked over at him, and gave him the hairy eyeball. I am NOT doing that! I think its gross, I dont want to expose myself, eww ick, no way, where did you get that idea I would do something like that??? Debbie persisted, Oh Julie, you will love it. I know you will. Its awesome, and such bonding. You will love it, I know you will. Awkward silence followed. I remember getting home that afternoon and asking Carl, why would you think I would WANT to do that? I mean really. You don't know me at all.
I know some of you reading this who know me now can't believe I felt this way. Since I am almost borderline obnoxious in my passion about breastfeeding. I have toned it down a bit, but, make no mistake, I am passionate about it and if I could train and coach every woman into it, my life would be beyond how worthwhile I view it already.
I remember my very first friend in college, Lynn, breastfeeding. I went to her apartment right after she got home from having the baby, Staria. Lynn and Craig were vegetarians, and my first thought was I need to bring them food. So, in my yet to be established cooking regiment, I brought over 2 cans of corn chowder, and we proceeded to heat it up in a glass bowl in the microwave, and I brought my Moms bread. We ooohed and aahhed over the baby, and they she started to fuss. Lynn very casually began to feed her. I had NEVER seen a baby be nursed before. I was so curious, like what are you doing to that kid???? I had not a clue. I remember Carl being very proud of Lynn. Then another friend at college, Vicki, had twins. I went over to University Park and saw the babies, and she was nursing twins!!!! I could not get over it. Now, these weren't seasoned Moms, these were 20 and 21 year old girls, ladies. Girls. Going to UMaine, one in nursing, one in history, married, girls. They began to lay a great foundation for me, an understanding I never had. IT was beautiful.
My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage, and I cannot tell you how devastating that was. I remember going to the alter at our church and just sobbing, and my pastor and his wife praying with us. But then, finally, I got pregnant with Kristen!!! I prayed every single day for that baby growing inside me to be healthy. That long 9 months changed my heart. Each day I prayed for her, and the best for her, wanting to hold her, and kiss her little face, my heart was also softening to the idea of breastfeeding. By the time she was born, I was mush, my midwife helped her latch on, and thus began our journey.
I would love to tell you I had loads of support for this endeavor, but I did not. No support group at EMMC. My Mom (whom I loved dearly, but bottle fed only) telling me, well, you may not be able to do it, or didn't she just eat? Why are you feeding her again? Oh you can't do that in front of Ray, please go into a bedroom. At one point, my current brother in law, who was very quiet said to my sister, Why isn't Julie nuts yet? Your mother does not leave her alone to be a Mom. I'm nuts listening to it. He said, its like someone else has moved into Julie's body, she's so calm.
And I was calm. I had made my mind up. I was doing this thing that I was grossed out by years prior.
I was empowered by those sweet college friends who had shared their experience with me.
I wanted this baby to live and thrive and I made up my mind to do it.
And, lets not forget, its free. always thinking, that frugal husband of mine.
Kristen loved to nurse. She would nurse for 45 mins, then stop, then want to again in a hour. I just went with it. Go with the flow was my new motto. But what about Dr. Spock????? my mother would say to me. I never fed you girls that much and you turned out just fine. You Need A Schedule. Dr. Spock this and Dr. Spock that. To hell with Dr.Spock. but back then I would have never said anything like that to my mother, I would just nod, smile, and keep on feeding the baby. You have to put her down sometime! Are you kidding me??? I waited 2 years for this blessing, I will hold her as much as I want. smile, nod, would you like to hold her Mom?
Elizabeth came along, and what a different nursing baby. She was fast and efficient. 7 mins and 7 mins. done. I am not kidding. I could not believe it. I thought, how is she going to gain weight? 20lbs by 6 months, 2 lbs heavier at the same age as her sister. Go figure. Again, I went with the flow, fed when she wanted, all was good.
Then comes the Daniel boy. Great latch in the hospital. But he was definately different. If there was ever a term of "lazy nurser" I would call him that. He was very easy going. Was never demanding, I was the one who constantly offered him to feed. And not a strong latch at all, but this little bugger was 22 lbs by 6 months old, so he was loving life as well.
Six and a half years between all 3 kids.
If I live to be 90, it will have been not quite 8% of my life was given to feeding my children from my own body. Comforting them, consoling them when teething or not feeling well, feeding their thirst. I am a big comfort nurser as well. I figure, when my life is said and done, I want to be known as a comfortable place for my children to go when they are sad, hungry, need prayer or support. I am their cheerleader. I am their giver of life.
I fed my children from my own making of milk.
Its beautiful. It hurts. It is painful at times. This feeding thing. Its inconvenient. Its lonely. It was a trust thing between God and me. I remember praying, God, you made me, you made them, now help me to do this.
And He Did. What I didn't know then was, this is life with children, toddlers, teenagers, college students. These needs don't change, they just look different as my kids have aged. Great life lessons I learned while breastfeeding.
I remember the days it took for my colostrum to turn to milk. Born Tuesday, Midnight Friday. Kristen Born Wednesday, Midnight Friday. Elizabeth. Born Tuesday, Friday Morning. Daniel. Guess what? Fridays were hard days. Thursday Night, hard nights. Praying, okay God, any time now, any time...... Bone weary exhaustion. Like nothing else. Not only did I give birth, I am making food. Lots of food for this hungry child.
Not that I was going for the cover of Time Magazine or anything :) but I decided, lets just see how this thing plays out with Daniel. I had talked to my friend Amy, who was lengthy nursing Mom, (how do you like that term) and she said her daughter up and stopped on her own at age 2 and 1/2. My friend Carolyn said oh, boys love to nurse, Nathaniel did it until age 3 and 1/2, and finally, one of my sister in laws said, oh just do it as long as he wants, I am NOT telling you how long my last baby did it.
Well, I think it happened maybe a week or so ago, he stopped nursing.
We had gotten into the habit of laying in bed and reading together before nap, then he would just cuddle next to me and fall asleep. Or at night, he would cuddle with me on the couch and fall asleep and we put him in his bed. On Thanksgiving, I said to Carl, I don't remember the last time he nursed. It makes me a bit teary eyed, but Carl said, well, It was his timing. He's done, but you are his world. He needs you for other things.
I love my husband. He has always been my support in this area. He's never been weird about breastfeeding ever. He loves when he sees other women feeding their babies. He never put limitations on me. Just support. Do what you feel, honey. You are doing a great job. Listen to the babies, they know when they are hungry. Let them eat. He is probably one of the most unselfish men I know of when it comes to his Dad role. Sometimes we have simply had the energy to hug each other. Thats it. and say I love you. And that was enough. It doesn't last, that tiredness, but to have his support, love, encouragement. I couldn't have done it without him. His role was critical in this journey.
So, I am done. Forever. No more nursing. No more sweet breath. No more skin on skin contact with my babies. Sigh. But guess what? There's more to come. Way More. And I don't want to miss any of it.
I can't wait to support my own daughters and their someday husbands in their parenting journeys. And I will bite my tongue and not tell them what to do, I will wait for them to ask. That is my promise, they have it in writing, now!
And my Daniel boy. Who will become a man someday and have his own family. I will do the same. I promise, Daniel.
Thank you to all my breastfeeding Mentors, Thank you to the love and support that was given to me by my family, and Thank you to God for allowing me to be a Mom, the best thing next to marriage that has ever happened to me.
Blessed in this Nest.
Julie, Mom of Kristen Hope, Elizabeth Grace, and Daniel Joseph.
In the beginning I was absolutely NOT going to breastfeed. I remember sitting at my friend Debbie McMorrans house for dinner, Carl and I were in the midst of hoping for a pregnancy that was far too long in the making, and Debbie brought up breastfeeding. She asked me if I was planning on it. Carl quickly responded, oh absolutely. Its the best thing for any child, yeah, she's doing that. I looked over at him, and gave him the hairy eyeball. I am NOT doing that! I think its gross, I dont want to expose myself, eww ick, no way, where did you get that idea I would do something like that??? Debbie persisted, Oh Julie, you will love it. I know you will. Its awesome, and such bonding. You will love it, I know you will. Awkward silence followed. I remember getting home that afternoon and asking Carl, why would you think I would WANT to do that? I mean really. You don't know me at all.
I know some of you reading this who know me now can't believe I felt this way. Since I am almost borderline obnoxious in my passion about breastfeeding. I have toned it down a bit, but, make no mistake, I am passionate about it and if I could train and coach every woman into it, my life would be beyond how worthwhile I view it already.
I remember my very first friend in college, Lynn, breastfeeding. I went to her apartment right after she got home from having the baby, Staria. Lynn and Craig were vegetarians, and my first thought was I need to bring them food. So, in my yet to be established cooking regiment, I brought over 2 cans of corn chowder, and we proceeded to heat it up in a glass bowl in the microwave, and I brought my Moms bread. We ooohed and aahhed over the baby, and they she started to fuss. Lynn very casually began to feed her. I had NEVER seen a baby be nursed before. I was so curious, like what are you doing to that kid???? I had not a clue. I remember Carl being very proud of Lynn. Then another friend at college, Vicki, had twins. I went over to University Park and saw the babies, and she was nursing twins!!!! I could not get over it. Now, these weren't seasoned Moms, these were 20 and 21 year old girls, ladies. Girls. Going to UMaine, one in nursing, one in history, married, girls. They began to lay a great foundation for me, an understanding I never had. IT was beautiful.
My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage, and I cannot tell you how devastating that was. I remember going to the alter at our church and just sobbing, and my pastor and his wife praying with us. But then, finally, I got pregnant with Kristen!!! I prayed every single day for that baby growing inside me to be healthy. That long 9 months changed my heart. Each day I prayed for her, and the best for her, wanting to hold her, and kiss her little face, my heart was also softening to the idea of breastfeeding. By the time she was born, I was mush, my midwife helped her latch on, and thus began our journey.
I would love to tell you I had loads of support for this endeavor, but I did not. No support group at EMMC. My Mom (whom I loved dearly, but bottle fed only) telling me, well, you may not be able to do it, or didn't she just eat? Why are you feeding her again? Oh you can't do that in front of Ray, please go into a bedroom. At one point, my current brother in law, who was very quiet said to my sister, Why isn't Julie nuts yet? Your mother does not leave her alone to be a Mom. I'm nuts listening to it. He said, its like someone else has moved into Julie's body, she's so calm.
And I was calm. I had made my mind up. I was doing this thing that I was grossed out by years prior.
I was empowered by those sweet college friends who had shared their experience with me.
I wanted this baby to live and thrive and I made up my mind to do it.
And, lets not forget, its free. always thinking, that frugal husband of mine.
Kristen loved to nurse. She would nurse for 45 mins, then stop, then want to again in a hour. I just went with it. Go with the flow was my new motto. But what about Dr. Spock????? my mother would say to me. I never fed you girls that much and you turned out just fine. You Need A Schedule. Dr. Spock this and Dr. Spock that. To hell with Dr.Spock. but back then I would have never said anything like that to my mother, I would just nod, smile, and keep on feeding the baby. You have to put her down sometime! Are you kidding me??? I waited 2 years for this blessing, I will hold her as much as I want. smile, nod, would you like to hold her Mom?
Elizabeth came along, and what a different nursing baby. She was fast and efficient. 7 mins and 7 mins. done. I am not kidding. I could not believe it. I thought, how is she going to gain weight? 20lbs by 6 months, 2 lbs heavier at the same age as her sister. Go figure. Again, I went with the flow, fed when she wanted, all was good.
Then comes the Daniel boy. Great latch in the hospital. But he was definately different. If there was ever a term of "lazy nurser" I would call him that. He was very easy going. Was never demanding, I was the one who constantly offered him to feed. And not a strong latch at all, but this little bugger was 22 lbs by 6 months old, so he was loving life as well.
Six and a half years between all 3 kids.
If I live to be 90, it will have been not quite 8% of my life was given to feeding my children from my own body. Comforting them, consoling them when teething or not feeling well, feeding their thirst. I am a big comfort nurser as well. I figure, when my life is said and done, I want to be known as a comfortable place for my children to go when they are sad, hungry, need prayer or support. I am their cheerleader. I am their giver of life.
I fed my children from my own making of milk.
Its beautiful. It hurts. It is painful at times. This feeding thing. Its inconvenient. Its lonely. It was a trust thing between God and me. I remember praying, God, you made me, you made them, now help me to do this.
And He Did. What I didn't know then was, this is life with children, toddlers, teenagers, college students. These needs don't change, they just look different as my kids have aged. Great life lessons I learned while breastfeeding.
I remember the days it took for my colostrum to turn to milk. Born Tuesday, Midnight Friday. Kristen Born Wednesday, Midnight Friday. Elizabeth. Born Tuesday, Friday Morning. Daniel. Guess what? Fridays were hard days. Thursday Night, hard nights. Praying, okay God, any time now, any time...... Bone weary exhaustion. Like nothing else. Not only did I give birth, I am making food. Lots of food for this hungry child.
Not that I was going for the cover of Time Magazine or anything :) but I decided, lets just see how this thing plays out with Daniel. I had talked to my friend Amy, who was lengthy nursing Mom, (how do you like that term) and she said her daughter up and stopped on her own at age 2 and 1/2. My friend Carolyn said oh, boys love to nurse, Nathaniel did it until age 3 and 1/2, and finally, one of my sister in laws said, oh just do it as long as he wants, I am NOT telling you how long my last baby did it.
Well, I think it happened maybe a week or so ago, he stopped nursing.
We had gotten into the habit of laying in bed and reading together before nap, then he would just cuddle next to me and fall asleep. Or at night, he would cuddle with me on the couch and fall asleep and we put him in his bed. On Thanksgiving, I said to Carl, I don't remember the last time he nursed. It makes me a bit teary eyed, but Carl said, well, It was his timing. He's done, but you are his world. He needs you for other things.
I love my husband. He has always been my support in this area. He's never been weird about breastfeeding ever. He loves when he sees other women feeding their babies. He never put limitations on me. Just support. Do what you feel, honey. You are doing a great job. Listen to the babies, they know when they are hungry. Let them eat. He is probably one of the most unselfish men I know of when it comes to his Dad role. Sometimes we have simply had the energy to hug each other. Thats it. and say I love you. And that was enough. It doesn't last, that tiredness, but to have his support, love, encouragement. I couldn't have done it without him. His role was critical in this journey.
So, I am done. Forever. No more nursing. No more sweet breath. No more skin on skin contact with my babies. Sigh. But guess what? There's more to come. Way More. And I don't want to miss any of it.
I can't wait to support my own daughters and their someday husbands in their parenting journeys. And I will bite my tongue and not tell them what to do, I will wait for them to ask. That is my promise, they have it in writing, now!
And my Daniel boy. Who will become a man someday and have his own family. I will do the same. I promise, Daniel.
Thank you to all my breastfeeding Mentors, Thank you to the love and support that was given to me by my family, and Thank you to God for allowing me to be a Mom, the best thing next to marriage that has ever happened to me.
Blessed in this Nest.
Julie, Mom of Kristen Hope, Elizabeth Grace, and Daniel Joseph.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
This Camel Had Her Final Straw
We all have that Moment. We carry on enjoying life for the most part, finding the good in every day life, noticing the miracles all around us in our children, husband, or friends. But we all have stuff. What I mean by "stuff" is those things we don't share with others. Those situations or relationships that we just hope we can pray them away, or hope things will turn out better. We may have illness of a loved one we are plowing through, and unexpected debt has settled on us, or kids who are just requiring more prayers that we can say on any given day. Its "stuff". And for me, I share my "stuff" with only a chosen few. I have loads of friends, but they don't all want or need to hear my "stuff". I prefer to stuff my stuff, hoping for a brighter day, because I do have so much good to focus on.
The Moment Came.
I was heading out the door with two arm fulls of Bible studies I was bringing to my sister-in-laws house as she wanted to look through what I had studied to help in making a decision about what she might like to study next. My daughter Kristen was waiting to be brought to the grocery store to get much needed M&M's to aide her in the evenings studies and a simple calculator that she assured me could be bought at a grocery store "for a dollar or so" as it was so basic it could not cost more than that. Kristen was in the car waiting, I was bringing out loads of Bible studies, arms beyond full, I put my cell phone in my pocket, could feel the key in the same pocket. phew, there it was. Finally got into the drivers side and pulled out the cell phone, only to find no key. WHAT? Where the heck is that thing??? I ran inside, I was running out of time if I was going to be in Old Town by 6:30 p.m., get this kid to the grocery store and back then leave. I made a quick sweep of the kitchen. No Way. No key.
I go into the back room where Scooby Doo is blaring. Anyone seen the key or picked it up? Nope. Carl gives me this look, you did not loose the key did you??? I give him the teenager eyeroll. I mean, really. I did not loose it, I know I had it. Come on, give me a break. I quickly looked over all the surfaces in the house where it might be. There are not that many places I had gone. I had come home from the eye docs, went into the kitchen, noticed it was a mess, cleaned it up, loaded the dishwasher, started making dinner. I did not go far.
At one point in the evening as I knew I was going nowhere I went outside on my hands and knees looking for the key under the van. I said, For real God, if we dont fiind these keys, I am done with You.
Yup, I said that to God about loosing those keys.
oh boy.
My faith is usually not that shallow, but it has been tested to say the least in the past year.
The Key was the Straw for this Camel's Back.
It was.
I continued to look until I went to bed. I went to bed with this key weighing on me. I would like to say it was the only thing weighing on me, but apparently not if I was willing to Curse God and Die over the key.
I would love to say I was this evolved Christian who never worried. Who went to bed each and every night and enjoyed 8 hours of blissful restful sleep. Never happens. Let me tell you that I know all the right things to do. I do. And, for the most part I practice them. But, let me tell you, until you experience true heartbreak over hearts broken, there in nothing but time that heals the wounds and it seems as if I have entered a season where my heart gets broken and needs time to heal. I am not a quick healer.
I woke up at 4 a.m. with a broken heart. I was heavy in spirit and I knew it. And to top it off, the key was still lost. I tried to sleep, but soon after 5 a.m. I was greeted with Mom, I need cereal, lets go eat cereal. I am sooooooo tired, but I get up, make coffee, start my day.
I have my feet in 2 worlds. The world of my 3 year old, who is physically demanding, and the world of two teenage daughters that is emotionally demanding. There are moments when all I can do is sit and drink my coffee, take a deep breath, and pray. that simply has to be enough.
Except on my broken back days.
I quickly realized this morning I need more. I sat at the table and cried to my husband. I did not know anyone was listening,I thought we were the only ones up, that and the Scooby Doo addict who was occupied with....Scooby Doo. But apparently not. I got my coffee, went up to my bedroom, laid on the bed, and cried some more. Carl got ready for work, as did the girls. I stayed in my room.
One of my daughters entered the bedroom as I began to get off the bed. She put her arms out to me to give me a hug. She hugged me and did not pull away. She began to cry. I am sooo sorry Mom. I am so sorry. We cried together. No daughter, I am sorry. I am sorry for sooo many things I simply can't talk about right now, but I will accept this hug. It was a healing moment. I don't forget these.
I began tearing the kitchen apart, cupboards, baskets at the door, radiators, anything to find this key.
Mom called. Mom, I simply can't take it. Its too much. Life is just too much. I can't do this. Everything, nothing, I cant. Well, you can't do everything, but God can give you strength to do what you can. She prayed with me on the phone. I cried some more. Now, I fully expect to hear you have found this key. By 2:30p.m. Mom doesn't mess around.
I went outside One More Time. I felt like I had been outside 100 times looking in my small driveway, under the vehicles, I even lifted the covering on the motorcycle. I glances at the grass and saw something shining. I bent down and pulled a fork out of the grass covered in sand. Then I thought, what if this key is hiding? Where would it hide? I bent down again, looking around my steps. I have 2 flower pots near my door way. One is placed on the first step going up the stairs. I look at that pot of dirt and white flowers. I see something silver in the pot. I look closer, and what do you know, I see my black van key. Can you believe that?
It was around 1:30.
How do like that Mom? God was early. Amazing.
Fortunately, God did not take me up on my offer.
He sees my imperfect life and loves me anyway.
Knowing I will have more back breaking moments, but knowing I won't go it alone.
Blessed in this Imperfect but Beautiful Nest.
Love, Julie
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
I know what I know. thats it.
I know what I know because I have experienced it.
Not because I read it in a book, or am trying to follow some far reaching role model in my life.
But because I think I know, because I trust my instincts.
I thought I knew some things, but I was very wrong. I felt I had been duped and deceived by people I had trusted, but they were not worthy of my trust, and I had absolutely no idea, none. So I began to question my experience, my ability to discern truth from fiction, my "radar", my "mom sense". I wanted retribution. I wanted to make those involved to see how wrong they were. I did not want anyone getting away with anything that would cause someone else harm. What if others didn't know? What if the same thing happened to them and I stood by and said nothing. When is it considered gossip or letting someone know the skinny so they wont fall prey?
I said to my husband, while I was Praying, they were preying. How ironic is that???
Living in this world is a balancing act between
Love and hate.
Believing or Questioning.
Lying and Truth.
Let go or Hold On.
Intervene or Sit Back and Wait.
Throw in the Towel or Keep Fighting.
Character or Charm
Momentary "Magic" or Lifetime commitment.
As I was running around the track this morning, I said to God, where were you when.........? Did you not see???? Did you not know, I mean, you are God, right? What are you trying to do to me? You know how deep my love is. I don't fake this life. I am not a con artist. I put it all out there. I love generously, and I feel as if you are showing me I don't have a clue.
And then I felt a nudging in my spirit, Read Psalm 139. go on, read it. I am not far away.
verse 2 you know when I sit and when I rise.
verse 3 you know when I go out and when I lie down
verse 4 before I speak a word, you know what I will say
verse 5 you hem me in, you go before and behind me
verse 7 I can't get away from your spirit
verse 16 All the days were ordained for me before one of them came to be.
I did cry on the track. I had one more lap to go. I did the lap, crying. Crying because I hate the feelings of hurt. I hate being taken advantage of, but who doesn't? Who wants to sign up for intentional emotional pain from other humans? Oh, that would be Jesus.
Thank you God for bringing your Words to Me. Reminding me you do see it all, even when I don't. And that I can Trust you know the End Game. You know the consequences. And I don't have to be the one to deal them out. My hope is my praying will lessen the preying. That healing will prevail, and blessings will continue in my own life as well as my family that you blessed me with.
Always humbled by this Beautiful Life,
Julie Kristen Robbins
Not because I read it in a book, or am trying to follow some far reaching role model in my life.
But because I think I know, because I trust my instincts.
I thought I knew some things, but I was very wrong. I felt I had been duped and deceived by people I had trusted, but they were not worthy of my trust, and I had absolutely no idea, none. So I began to question my experience, my ability to discern truth from fiction, my "radar", my "mom sense". I wanted retribution. I wanted to make those involved to see how wrong they were. I did not want anyone getting away with anything that would cause someone else harm. What if others didn't know? What if the same thing happened to them and I stood by and said nothing. When is it considered gossip or letting someone know the skinny so they wont fall prey?
I said to my husband, while I was Praying, they were preying. How ironic is that???
Living in this world is a balancing act between
Love and hate.
Believing or Questioning.
Lying and Truth.
Let go or Hold On.
Intervene or Sit Back and Wait.
Throw in the Towel or Keep Fighting.
Character or Charm
Momentary "Magic" or Lifetime commitment.
As I was running around the track this morning, I said to God, where were you when.........? Did you not see???? Did you not know, I mean, you are God, right? What are you trying to do to me? You know how deep my love is. I don't fake this life. I am not a con artist. I put it all out there. I love generously, and I feel as if you are showing me I don't have a clue.
And then I felt a nudging in my spirit, Read Psalm 139. go on, read it. I am not far away.
verse 2 you know when I sit and when I rise.
verse 3 you know when I go out and when I lie down
verse 4 before I speak a word, you know what I will say
verse 5 you hem me in, you go before and behind me
verse 7 I can't get away from your spirit
verse 16 All the days were ordained for me before one of them came to be.
I did cry on the track. I had one more lap to go. I did the lap, crying. Crying because I hate the feelings of hurt. I hate being taken advantage of, but who doesn't? Who wants to sign up for intentional emotional pain from other humans? Oh, that would be Jesus.
Thank you God for bringing your Words to Me. Reminding me you do see it all, even when I don't. And that I can Trust you know the End Game. You know the consequences. And I don't have to be the one to deal them out. My hope is my praying will lessen the preying. That healing will prevail, and blessings will continue in my own life as well as my family that you blessed me with.
Always humbled by this Beautiful Life,
Julie Kristen Robbins
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
A Divine Moment in the Cafeteria
My daughter had surgery on June 21st at Boston Children's Hospital for corrective back surgery due to her diagnosis of severe scoliosis. If you have seen any of my facebook posts, you would have seen a recent picture post of the before and after digital hospital image. Amazing what modern medicine is capable of. So glad I am so close to such an amazing hospital.
During our week long stay for her surgery, we had the privilege of staying at a place called Yawkee Family Inn. This is an Inn that parents/guardians of patients of Boston Children's hospital can stay. The cost is nominal, $30 a night, and area restaurants bring in food 3 to 4 nights a week. Those staying at the inn are given refrigerator space, and pantry space for your own food, and there is also a community spot in both areas where you can use any of the food left behind by others. While staying at Yawkee Inn I was able to talk to the residents. I met parents from Libya, China, Puerto Rico, Tennessee, Kansas City, New York, New Hampshire, just to name a few places. Most people were there much longer than we were. We were one of the "fortunate" families whose stay was only a week long. Being in that place with all these new people, all functioning with children who were in different degrees of suffering with some sort of condition that needed physical intervention, who may be suffering from something that can be fixed through operation(s), or possibly the child is terminal, has a way of minimizing my simple annoyances. A thing to remember, there are parents who would LOVE to have a child throw a "normal" temper tantrum over a toy they could not have, as opposed to a child who is crying out in pain on a continual basis until surgery takes care of the problem. If you have never dealt with serious debilitating health issue with yourself, an extended family member, or your own child, be glad. But if you have, I would dare say you are not one of those parents who continually sweats the small stuff. All of it is small stuff when someone's life hangs in the balance. ALL OF IT.
My moment of reckoning came on a day I decided to have lunch in the cafeteria at Boston Children's. I am even tearing up as I write this. You see, my daughter was on the orthopedic floor. This was a floor for kids who have scoliosis, some sort of orthopedic problem that will be solved, for the most part, by surgery, so my exposure to children with deformities was almost non-existent. I saw kids in pain, but I knew they would be better as time healed their bodies after surgery.
As I sat down to eat my lunch, I was thinking, I just want to be alone. I don't want to make polite conversation with anyone. I don't want to talk about why I am here. It was all I could do to go down stairs, eat, function, and not cry or loose it. Loosing it would not benefit anyone, I had to get back upstairs to Elizabeth.
I saw a Mom come in with her son. He was in a laying down wheel chair/stroller of sorts. It was obvious he had had brain surgery, as you could see the stitching going up one side of his face, across the front of his hair line and down the other. He was severely bloated, sleeping, legs propped up by a pillow, eyes fluttering. I am ashamed to admit this, as I think sometimes I am an "evolved" person and love people, but I thought, oh please don't sit here, I am trying to eat. How can I eat and watch your son? My heart can't take it, I just want to eat.
And then I heard this little voice say to me "Tell her that her son is BEAUTIFUL!" He is beautiful to me. With all those scars, all that bloating, He Is Beautiful to Me.
It was all I could do to not begin crying right there.
Yes, He is BEAUTIFUL.
The boy's Mom looked exhausted, as most parents do here. You kind of see that look and you know the difference between the look of a visiting relative and a parent. That look of, I am as strong as I possibly can be at this moment for my child, but, I am on the edge. I am tired. I just want to sit here and eat too.
I finished my lunch. I looked across the very small table at this Mom, her son parked right beside the table. She glanced up at me. I was shaking.
I told her, "I just want you to know, Your Son Is Beautiful". oh, thank you, in the most quiet voice. And then she smiled, He really is. And I could see her tears coming. He is. I got up, and left, saying a prayer for that little one.
And in that moment, God showed me with all of His power, how beautiful we All are to Him.
He does not see our "worldly scars", that either we put there ourselves, or were put there by others.
He does not see how small, big, smart, lacking, developmentally delayed, deformed we are by worldly standards.
He sees Beauty.
I saw Beauty that day.
And I will never be the same.
Thank God for True Beauty.
The One Who Created You Thinks Your are Beautiful.
Touched and Changed.
Humbled Yet Again,
Julie Kristen Robbins
During our week long stay for her surgery, we had the privilege of staying at a place called Yawkee Family Inn. This is an Inn that parents/guardians of patients of Boston Children's hospital can stay. The cost is nominal, $30 a night, and area restaurants bring in food 3 to 4 nights a week. Those staying at the inn are given refrigerator space, and pantry space for your own food, and there is also a community spot in both areas where you can use any of the food left behind by others. While staying at Yawkee Inn I was able to talk to the residents. I met parents from Libya, China, Puerto Rico, Tennessee, Kansas City, New York, New Hampshire, just to name a few places. Most people were there much longer than we were. We were one of the "fortunate" families whose stay was only a week long. Being in that place with all these new people, all functioning with children who were in different degrees of suffering with some sort of condition that needed physical intervention, who may be suffering from something that can be fixed through operation(s), or possibly the child is terminal, has a way of minimizing my simple annoyances. A thing to remember, there are parents who would LOVE to have a child throw a "normal" temper tantrum over a toy they could not have, as opposed to a child who is crying out in pain on a continual basis until surgery takes care of the problem. If you have never dealt with serious debilitating health issue with yourself, an extended family member, or your own child, be glad. But if you have, I would dare say you are not one of those parents who continually sweats the small stuff. All of it is small stuff when someone's life hangs in the balance. ALL OF IT.
My moment of reckoning came on a day I decided to have lunch in the cafeteria at Boston Children's. I am even tearing up as I write this. You see, my daughter was on the orthopedic floor. This was a floor for kids who have scoliosis, some sort of orthopedic problem that will be solved, for the most part, by surgery, so my exposure to children with deformities was almost non-existent. I saw kids in pain, but I knew they would be better as time healed their bodies after surgery.
As I sat down to eat my lunch, I was thinking, I just want to be alone. I don't want to make polite conversation with anyone. I don't want to talk about why I am here. It was all I could do to go down stairs, eat, function, and not cry or loose it. Loosing it would not benefit anyone, I had to get back upstairs to Elizabeth.
I saw a Mom come in with her son. He was in a laying down wheel chair/stroller of sorts. It was obvious he had had brain surgery, as you could see the stitching going up one side of his face, across the front of his hair line and down the other. He was severely bloated, sleeping, legs propped up by a pillow, eyes fluttering. I am ashamed to admit this, as I think sometimes I am an "evolved" person and love people, but I thought, oh please don't sit here, I am trying to eat. How can I eat and watch your son? My heart can't take it, I just want to eat.
And then I heard this little voice say to me "Tell her that her son is BEAUTIFUL!" He is beautiful to me. With all those scars, all that bloating, He Is Beautiful to Me.
It was all I could do to not begin crying right there.
Yes, He is BEAUTIFUL.
The boy's Mom looked exhausted, as most parents do here. You kind of see that look and you know the difference between the look of a visiting relative and a parent. That look of, I am as strong as I possibly can be at this moment for my child, but, I am on the edge. I am tired. I just want to sit here and eat too.
I finished my lunch. I looked across the very small table at this Mom, her son parked right beside the table. She glanced up at me. I was shaking.
I told her, "I just want you to know, Your Son Is Beautiful". oh, thank you, in the most quiet voice. And then she smiled, He really is. And I could see her tears coming. He is. I got up, and left, saying a prayer for that little one.
And in that moment, God showed me with all of His power, how beautiful we All are to Him.
He does not see our "worldly scars", that either we put there ourselves, or were put there by others.
He does not see how small, big, smart, lacking, developmentally delayed, deformed we are by worldly standards.
He sees Beauty.
I saw Beauty that day.
And I will never be the same.
Thank God for True Beauty.
The One Who Created You Thinks Your are Beautiful.
Touched and Changed.
Humbled Yet Again,
Julie Kristen Robbins
Thursday, May 16, 2013
I Am Boycotting Mothers Day.
And Valentine's Day. And Anniversaries. And Birthdays.
Bah Humbug. No More Easter Bunny silliness.
I have you all wondering. What has gotten her goat? What is her problem?
Just a little food for thought. You are welcome to read and disagree. I have no problem with that, I am over 40 after all. (My friend just posted something about women over 40, and one of characteristics is we know the truth and don't care if you agree with us or not.) Its okay, you are still my friend.
I had a very wise mentor friend say to me once, Christmas is every day for me, as is Easter. I remember thinking, OOOKAAAAY. I guess you aren't into the materialism and all. He went on to explain his reasoning, and I listened politely, not really getting it, but sort of getting it because I respect this man profoundly.
And then I got it.
This mothers day, this past Sunday. I got what he was saying to me all those years ago.
My day started full of unsaid expectations, because, after all, It Was Mothers Day. And, being the selfless fool that I am, I said to my husband, if nothing is done for me tomorrow, you are all DEAD MEAT. Yup, winning the Mother of the Year award for that statement. He proceeded to take the teenagers shopping while I took a very long nap as life just exhausts me at times and calls for a nap.
Did I awaken the next morning to a symphony playing on our sound system? Coffee in bed? Warm buns baking in the oven? Bacon and eggs warming on the stove with nicely cut up fruit awaiting me on china? Rosebuds encircling my bed? Flowers of ANY KIND greeting me?
All a BIG NO.
I began to grow sadder by the moment. I began to go through my list of all the wonderful things I do for my family. I began to feel used, abused, neglected. Please tell me I am NOT the only woman who has a brain who works like this? And then I went to church, they had some lovely photographer that was taking family shots, and I am like No Way. I am not standing in some line to wrangle all these people.(It was a thoughtful idea, I was just in no mood.)
We get home, and before we get out of the van, Carl stops everyone from getting out, and he starts talking.
"First of all, I want to thank you for being the Rock in this family. Your love, caring, guidance, spiritual direction, continual prayers and heart for God is what keeps us all moving in the right direction. Girls, thank you so much for being great kids. Yes, you give your mother some attitude, etc, but when I was your age I was an absolutely horrible teenager, I was mean, nasty, did stuff I am not proud of, things I will never tell you about, and that is not who I am now, I am different, and I credit that to God and your Mom. Little Daniel, you are a gift to all of us, we are blessed".
I began to cry. And this is why I want to boycott all those "silly" holidays.
Those words can be uttered on any day of the year, at any moment of the day. Anytime. My husband is very good at affirming me, and he knows when I am down and need it. It changed my mood in an instant. They were life giving words. At that moment, I did not care if I had been given a breakfast or gifts. Those words were my gifts. The love that was in those words were the gifts.
We can do that anytime.
We don't need a holiday to tell us to do that. Or do we? Have we become lazy praisers? Do we think that one day of gifts can fix a whole year of neglect and defiance? What if we lived every day like it was fathers day, or mothers day, or childrens day? What if we simply honored others when given the opportunity?
So, I have decided. I am going to take Mom out regularly just because I love her.
I will buy things for my children, just because.
I will kiss and hug and make coffee and his favorite steak and onions on many days of the year for my husband, and say, ride that Harley anytime, babe, you work hard.
I will call my Dad more often just to say I love you Dad. I am glad you are part of what made me.
I will send notes when I feel prompted in my heart to do so, or make that phone call so I can hear your voice.
Because, guess what? Every day is a holiday. Every day matters. People in my life that God continually brings to our home, matter. Lucas, at 7a.m.in my kitchen, matters. How about a good morning, and can I get you something to drink? Are you hungry? Can I love on you in some way that will awaken in you your specialness this very moment?
My husband gave me a reminder. I do love those willow angels so much. I have a small collection started. They are special because they have been given to me by people who see certain things in me, and find a angel that represents that characteristic.My husband got me the angel called "Abundance", which means lots of love. greatly overflowing. And, I had my tears. Thank you for the reminder, my dear Carl.
I have an Abundant Life.
Love to you all who read, and know each day is a "Holiday".
Blessed in this Nest,
Julie Robbins.
Bah Humbug. No More Easter Bunny silliness.
I have you all wondering. What has gotten her goat? What is her problem?
Just a little food for thought. You are welcome to read and disagree. I have no problem with that, I am over 40 after all. (My friend just posted something about women over 40, and one of characteristics is we know the truth and don't care if you agree with us or not.) Its okay, you are still my friend.
I had a very wise mentor friend say to me once, Christmas is every day for me, as is Easter. I remember thinking, OOOKAAAAY. I guess you aren't into the materialism and all. He went on to explain his reasoning, and I listened politely, not really getting it, but sort of getting it because I respect this man profoundly.
And then I got it.
This mothers day, this past Sunday. I got what he was saying to me all those years ago.
My day started full of unsaid expectations, because, after all, It Was Mothers Day. And, being the selfless fool that I am, I said to my husband, if nothing is done for me tomorrow, you are all DEAD MEAT. Yup, winning the Mother of the Year award for that statement. He proceeded to take the teenagers shopping while I took a very long nap as life just exhausts me at times and calls for a nap.
Did I awaken the next morning to a symphony playing on our sound system? Coffee in bed? Warm buns baking in the oven? Bacon and eggs warming on the stove with nicely cut up fruit awaiting me on china? Rosebuds encircling my bed? Flowers of ANY KIND greeting me?
All a BIG NO.
I began to grow sadder by the moment. I began to go through my list of all the wonderful things I do for my family. I began to feel used, abused, neglected. Please tell me I am NOT the only woman who has a brain who works like this? And then I went to church, they had some lovely photographer that was taking family shots, and I am like No Way. I am not standing in some line to wrangle all these people.(It was a thoughtful idea, I was just in no mood.)
We get home, and before we get out of the van, Carl stops everyone from getting out, and he starts talking.
"First of all, I want to thank you for being the Rock in this family. Your love, caring, guidance, spiritual direction, continual prayers and heart for God is what keeps us all moving in the right direction. Girls, thank you so much for being great kids. Yes, you give your mother some attitude, etc, but when I was your age I was an absolutely horrible teenager, I was mean, nasty, did stuff I am not proud of, things I will never tell you about, and that is not who I am now, I am different, and I credit that to God and your Mom. Little Daniel, you are a gift to all of us, we are blessed".
I began to cry. And this is why I want to boycott all those "silly" holidays.
Those words can be uttered on any day of the year, at any moment of the day. Anytime. My husband is very good at affirming me, and he knows when I am down and need it. It changed my mood in an instant. They were life giving words. At that moment, I did not care if I had been given a breakfast or gifts. Those words were my gifts. The love that was in those words were the gifts.
We can do that anytime.
We don't need a holiday to tell us to do that. Or do we? Have we become lazy praisers? Do we think that one day of gifts can fix a whole year of neglect and defiance? What if we lived every day like it was fathers day, or mothers day, or childrens day? What if we simply honored others when given the opportunity?
So, I have decided. I am going to take Mom out regularly just because I love her.
I will buy things for my children, just because.
I will kiss and hug and make coffee and his favorite steak and onions on many days of the year for my husband, and say, ride that Harley anytime, babe, you work hard.
I will call my Dad more often just to say I love you Dad. I am glad you are part of what made me.
I will send notes when I feel prompted in my heart to do so, or make that phone call so I can hear your voice.
Because, guess what? Every day is a holiday. Every day matters. People in my life that God continually brings to our home, matter. Lucas, at 7a.m.in my kitchen, matters. How about a good morning, and can I get you something to drink? Are you hungry? Can I love on you in some way that will awaken in you your specialness this very moment?
My husband gave me a reminder. I do love those willow angels so much. I have a small collection started. They are special because they have been given to me by people who see certain things in me, and find a angel that represents that characteristic.My husband got me the angel called "Abundance", which means lots of love. greatly overflowing. And, I had my tears. Thank you for the reminder, my dear Carl.
I have an Abundant Life.
Love to you all who read, and know each day is a "Holiday".
Blessed in this Nest,
Julie Robbins.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
2880 miles Baby. Our trip to Florida.
The response I get from most when I tell them we drive to Florida, is, Are You Crazy??? And we do it most times in 27 hours of strait driving. I always feel a wee bit crazy by 2a.m. on the drive down. I am thinking, what the heck? Why? Why? And then daylight dawns, we stop at Mickey Dees, and life is good.
This year gave us a wee bit more crazy on the way down.
At 4a.m., just outside of D.C., I was sitting in the back seat of the van, and thought it smelled "hot". And then the thumping began. I said, what IS that noise? A truck? As Carl was driving he felt the steering shift a bit, and realized, Whoa, that sound is the tire. We were on the 495, just north by feet from an exit outside of Kensingston. We could not make it off the exit. 3 lanes of traffic, he pulled over to the right side of the interstate. Definitely a flat tire. Back left tire. Right under where I was sitting. Of course I smelled something, it was the tire.
We proceeded to call AAA roadside. Now, this is when the fun begins. That DAY was when the AAA roadside expires. at noon. Fortunately it is 4 a.m. of the day. So AAA comes. Apparently in vans, the dummy tire is between the seats, hanging only by a bolt, which of course, in the Maine elements has rusted to a frozen position. Being the auto experts that both Carl and I are, we did not even know we had a dummy tire. So, now the problem is 6 people cannot fit in the tow truck. It is now 5a.m. So, AAA guy calls for a long cab tow truck to pick us up and take us to a tire place that is open 24 hours. The same type of tow truck arrives, 1 HOUR later. Apparently the needed vehicle got lost in translation......so a taxi cab is ordered, another 1/2 hour wait.
Let us just say at this point I am feeling like the whole world is incompetent. Are we the first family on the face of the planet who has a flat tire while traveling at 4 a.m. with a van full of people? I guess so. I guess we were the trial run guinea pig family to figure out how AAA towing works.
Taxi cab comes, Daniel does NOT want to get into it for some reason. He is not a fit thrower. And he pitches the biggest fit of his entire life. Carl and Kristen hop into the original tow truck as I am trying to stuff him into the backseat of this taxi. His legs are flailing, kicking, NO NO NO, and the guy in the front seat is saying, well you are going to have to buckle him, I am like, RIGHT BUDDY. We all look like homeless people, disheveled and dazed, and boy am I so glad I drank nothing after 12 noon at this point on the previous day. I force him into the taxi, Elizabeth and her friend Sharon are in the taxi as well. None of us knows what to make of this screaming kid. I am thinking, how great to be 2. I want to scream and kick like that because that is exactly HOW I feel after sitting waiting in that van for 2 and 1/2 hours.
We make it to the tire place, it does not open until 7:30a.m. We are informed that if we were going to break down we picked one of the few nice neighborhoods in D.C. to break down outside of. Good thing, as we are waiting outside for over 30mins until the place opens up. But, the sun is shining, Daniel is running back and forth between all the girls, and we get in. That will be 30 mins. to get those tires on (we have to purchase 2). An HOUR later, I am pacing. Okay, this is officially sucking. It is now 8:30a.m. If you know anything about traveling you know every minute counts, let alone every hour. WE travel through the night to avoid places like NYC and D.C. and the George Washington Bridge in daylight, because, well, get stuck in any one of those places and you will NEVER do it again.
We roll out of the tire place at around 8:45a.m. Time for Breakfast. We find a McDonalds, eat, and are on our way. We are looking at a 5 HOUR delay at this point. 5 HOURS! I don't even want to think about it, as it is hard enough to be in a car from 3p.m. on Friday until 6:30p.m. on Saturday.
Gridlock in D. C. greets us.
And that is when we all had to make a choice.
We had to stop saying how much this all SUCKED royally.
We had to stop saying, WHY did this happen?
We had to stop looking at that Garmin that said we would not be arriving till well after our projected arrival time.
This was a real lesson in attitude.
What do you do when you know a situation will be prolonged beyond the point you already don't think you can bear?
What do you do when, to the best of your ability you have planned, made sure all things were in operating order so that something unforeseen would not happen?
What do you do when others are relying on you, and you feel just as horrible as they do?
And, add a 2 and 1/2 year old into this mix. Add a young one into anything will start a party that's for sure.
And so, we traveled on, stopping when we needed to, made sure Daniel had his breaks to run a bit, and we made it Kissimee, Florida at 12:30a.m.Sunday morning.
Because of the extra sleep time in the van, Daniel was not ready for bed. We all showered, munched on goodies that had been packed, and went to bed around 2:30a.m.
No one was complaining. We had made it to Florida. For the first time ever, I did not get out of bed until 8:30a.m. In the history of Daniel's entire life I have NEVER been in bed at 8:30a.m. 6 strait hours of sleep and I felt refreshed. and so did Carl.
And we headed to the pool.
And the week went on with trips to Sea World, Aquatica Water Park, friends visiting, enjoying the resort we always stay at, and Dominos pizza, my favorite new pizza. Oh, and never eat Chinese food in Florida, it is just plain gross. And I turned 45 years old in Florida. And the ride back went without a hitch whatsoever.
Were we watched over by angels? I believe yes.
Could that blow out tire been A lot worse? Absolutely.
Could our whole trip been ruined by foul attitudes, talking incessantly about how horrible the trip down was? yes. Was it? NO! Wasn't even mentioned.
It all boils down to choice.
How will I choose to respond when things do not go my way?
How will I choose to respond, even when my negative response is justified completely?
How long will I camp out in my justified negative response?
Its always up to me. As well as, it is always up to YOU.
And, I am just a wee bit glad the plan in to go to Myrtle Beach next April break....... :)
Love from the Traveling Nest,
Julie, Mother who still has hair, 2 teen daughters, and a 2 year Old.
This year gave us a wee bit more crazy on the way down.
At 4a.m., just outside of D.C., I was sitting in the back seat of the van, and thought it smelled "hot". And then the thumping began. I said, what IS that noise? A truck? As Carl was driving he felt the steering shift a bit, and realized, Whoa, that sound is the tire. We were on the 495, just north by feet from an exit outside of Kensingston. We could not make it off the exit. 3 lanes of traffic, he pulled over to the right side of the interstate. Definitely a flat tire. Back left tire. Right under where I was sitting. Of course I smelled something, it was the tire.
We proceeded to call AAA roadside. Now, this is when the fun begins. That DAY was when the AAA roadside expires. at noon. Fortunately it is 4 a.m. of the day. So AAA comes. Apparently in vans, the dummy tire is between the seats, hanging only by a bolt, which of course, in the Maine elements has rusted to a frozen position. Being the auto experts that both Carl and I are, we did not even know we had a dummy tire. So, now the problem is 6 people cannot fit in the tow truck. It is now 5a.m. So, AAA guy calls for a long cab tow truck to pick us up and take us to a tire place that is open 24 hours. The same type of tow truck arrives, 1 HOUR later. Apparently the needed vehicle got lost in translation......so a taxi cab is ordered, another 1/2 hour wait.
Let us just say at this point I am feeling like the whole world is incompetent. Are we the first family on the face of the planet who has a flat tire while traveling at 4 a.m. with a van full of people? I guess so. I guess we were the trial run guinea pig family to figure out how AAA towing works.
Taxi cab comes, Daniel does NOT want to get into it for some reason. He is not a fit thrower. And he pitches the biggest fit of his entire life. Carl and Kristen hop into the original tow truck as I am trying to stuff him into the backseat of this taxi. His legs are flailing, kicking, NO NO NO, and the guy in the front seat is saying, well you are going to have to buckle him, I am like, RIGHT BUDDY. We all look like homeless people, disheveled and dazed, and boy am I so glad I drank nothing after 12 noon at this point on the previous day. I force him into the taxi, Elizabeth and her friend Sharon are in the taxi as well. None of us knows what to make of this screaming kid. I am thinking, how great to be 2. I want to scream and kick like that because that is exactly HOW I feel after sitting waiting in that van for 2 and 1/2 hours.
We make it to the tire place, it does not open until 7:30a.m. We are informed that if we were going to break down we picked one of the few nice neighborhoods in D.C. to break down outside of. Good thing, as we are waiting outside for over 30mins until the place opens up. But, the sun is shining, Daniel is running back and forth between all the girls, and we get in. That will be 30 mins. to get those tires on (we have to purchase 2). An HOUR later, I am pacing. Okay, this is officially sucking. It is now 8:30a.m. If you know anything about traveling you know every minute counts, let alone every hour. WE travel through the night to avoid places like NYC and D.C. and the George Washington Bridge in daylight, because, well, get stuck in any one of those places and you will NEVER do it again.
We roll out of the tire place at around 8:45a.m. Time for Breakfast. We find a McDonalds, eat, and are on our way. We are looking at a 5 HOUR delay at this point. 5 HOURS! I don't even want to think about it, as it is hard enough to be in a car from 3p.m. on Friday until 6:30p.m. on Saturday.
Gridlock in D. C. greets us.
And that is when we all had to make a choice.
We had to stop saying how much this all SUCKED royally.
We had to stop saying, WHY did this happen?
We had to stop looking at that Garmin that said we would not be arriving till well after our projected arrival time.
This was a real lesson in attitude.
What do you do when you know a situation will be prolonged beyond the point you already don't think you can bear?
What do you do when, to the best of your ability you have planned, made sure all things were in operating order so that something unforeseen would not happen?
What do you do when others are relying on you, and you feel just as horrible as they do?
And, add a 2 and 1/2 year old into this mix. Add a young one into anything will start a party that's for sure.
And so, we traveled on, stopping when we needed to, made sure Daniel had his breaks to run a bit, and we made it Kissimee, Florida at 12:30a.m.Sunday morning.
Because of the extra sleep time in the van, Daniel was not ready for bed. We all showered, munched on goodies that had been packed, and went to bed around 2:30a.m.
No one was complaining. We had made it to Florida. For the first time ever, I did not get out of bed until 8:30a.m. In the history of Daniel's entire life I have NEVER been in bed at 8:30a.m. 6 strait hours of sleep and I felt refreshed. and so did Carl.
And we headed to the pool.
And the week went on with trips to Sea World, Aquatica Water Park, friends visiting, enjoying the resort we always stay at, and Dominos pizza, my favorite new pizza. Oh, and never eat Chinese food in Florida, it is just plain gross. And I turned 45 years old in Florida. And the ride back went without a hitch whatsoever.
Were we watched over by angels? I believe yes.
Could that blow out tire been A lot worse? Absolutely.
Could our whole trip been ruined by foul attitudes, talking incessantly about how horrible the trip down was? yes. Was it? NO! Wasn't even mentioned.
It all boils down to choice.
How will I choose to respond when things do not go my way?
How will I choose to respond, even when my negative response is justified completely?
How long will I camp out in my justified negative response?
Its always up to me. As well as, it is always up to YOU.
And, I am just a wee bit glad the plan in to go to Myrtle Beach next April break....... :)
Love from the Traveling Nest,
Julie, Mother who still has hair, 2 teen daughters, and a 2 year Old.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
She does not see me........
"She does not see me for who I am. Who I have been in her life."
That statement made by a Mom whom I share the thrill of walking through teenage life with daughters. She went on to describe some of her wonderful daughter's strengths, and the struggles of communication at times with her daughter. I was almost brought to tears by what she said.
"She does not see who I am." It struck a nerve in my very fragile heart.
I was talking to my sister-in-law recently. I said, we should right a book about teenagers. We began brainstorming about the title. One of the choices was "What I never told my Mother when I was Dating".
It could be an anonymous confessional, and we could all learn from it. I was lamenting that millions and millions and millions of dollars are spent on how to care for an infant. I will tell you how to care for an infant, hold them, feed them, change their diapers, and prepare to not sleep for a year. If you want to sleep, don't have a brood of small children. 'nough said. Oh, and they will want to sleep with you, let them, before you know it they will be giving you dagger looks with their eyes and you will be saying, oh I wish for those baby years, and start looking at baby pictures of them. I always know when Moms start posting baby pictures of their teenagers on facebook it has either been an bad day, month, or year and you want to remember that sweet little one who made you feel like you could do no wrong, that there were days they actually didn't recoil from your touch or kiss, and that they WANTED you around (for something other than money or a ride to the mall).
I was lying in bed the other morning at 3:45a.m. unable to sleep. I have been doing this a lot lately. I pray, and think, and pray, and think. Trying to solve everything every day by 4a.m. That's why they call me superMOM, not.
And that statement kept coming.
She doesn't know who I am.
And I thought, not only doesn't she know who I am, she has no idea who I was.
Daughter #1 has no idea what it is like to wish for a baby, loose it, get pregnant again (finally!) and get up each and every morning praying, God, just let me hold this baby. Just make her healthy and alive, just let me hold this baby. I will do anything, ANYTHING (even Breastfeed!!!...yup, I actually had an aversion to this before I had Kristen!), just let me hold this baby. Daughter #2 has no idea what it is like to spend a year healing from a difficult delivery and spending every day of that pregnancy pleading for an easy delivery and quick healing. (which I got, by the way).
None of the children know how supremely difficult it was for me to go to college. To take 5 years to do it, all the while working 2 or 3 jobs, waitressing, selling Tupperware, being a jewelry sales girl, work study jobs through UMaine which including Shelving Books at the Bangor Public Library (can you say SNOOZE!), or herding sheep for grad. students and weeding their plots all summer? All those years, all that sacrifice and dedication for that degree to turn around and say, Absolutely! I will stay home and take care of you all and we will live on 21,000 a year. (Carl's starting salary when teaching in Howland, Maine). And I won't blink an eye because I love you and being away from you would never be worth it to me.
They also don't know that their Mom has run a couple small businesses, been the director for a children's ministry, was groomed to be an executive director of a pregnancy center, and trained in abortion recovery. They don't know what it was like for me to be their cheerleader every morning, as I had one girl who despised her elementary years, then go off to work after dropping them off at school to be attacked by a child daily who did not know if I was imaginary or real. Or try to work with a group of 5 year olds who took a 1/2 of a school year to listen to ONE STORY! (My 2 year old does that daily!).
There are days when one in hollering about the hair straitner, the house is up in arms as she is sure I put it somewhere on purpose to hide it from her, the other is shooting daggers as I have asked one too many boy questions, life questions, how was your day questions, her response, you know, you should really become a reporter with this line of questioning. SIGH. Those without teens, or those who had the perfect teens, please do not post suggestions to me. I don't need suggestions. I don't need judgement. I just need a good strong drink occasionally, but alas, I don't drink alcohol, so I choose chocolate & coffee & time alone sitting at Governors.
Some Day my children might see me.
But maybe not.
Maybe someday when they stop worrying about grades, sports, relationships, getting drivers licenses, cool boots, eyeliner, and makeup, they might look up and see their mom.
Someone who freely gave up what she felt was her academic calling, who is always here, who wants to have their friends over and make it fun for them, who is available when they call for a ride, who cant wait for them to get home and ask questions about their day, who needs to look in their eyes and face every day, making assessments on their demeanor, who plans all healthy meals to make sure they are healthy, who makes sure either Dad or I are at their sporting events, who CAN find ANYTHING.
Maybe I will be "seen" by them one day.
This is where the selflessness of parenting comes in. It is never about me. Ever. I Have Kids.
Either way, I am not going anywhere, and I will continue with my reporter-esque line of questions.
NO ONE gets rid of me easy, ever....
Love to all the Moms, and Big Time Hugs to the ones with Teenagers!!!
Still blessed,
Julie
That statement made by a Mom whom I share the thrill of walking through teenage life with daughters. She went on to describe some of her wonderful daughter's strengths, and the struggles of communication at times with her daughter. I was almost brought to tears by what she said.
"She does not see who I am." It struck a nerve in my very fragile heart.
I was talking to my sister-in-law recently. I said, we should right a book about teenagers. We began brainstorming about the title. One of the choices was "What I never told my Mother when I was Dating".
It could be an anonymous confessional, and we could all learn from it. I was lamenting that millions and millions and millions of dollars are spent on how to care for an infant. I will tell you how to care for an infant, hold them, feed them, change their diapers, and prepare to not sleep for a year. If you want to sleep, don't have a brood of small children. 'nough said. Oh, and they will want to sleep with you, let them, before you know it they will be giving you dagger looks with their eyes and you will be saying, oh I wish for those baby years, and start looking at baby pictures of them. I always know when Moms start posting baby pictures of their teenagers on facebook it has either been an bad day, month, or year and you want to remember that sweet little one who made you feel like you could do no wrong, that there were days they actually didn't recoil from your touch or kiss, and that they WANTED you around (for something other than money or a ride to the mall).
I was lying in bed the other morning at 3:45a.m. unable to sleep. I have been doing this a lot lately. I pray, and think, and pray, and think. Trying to solve everything every day by 4a.m. That's why they call me superMOM, not.
And that statement kept coming.
She doesn't know who I am.
And I thought, not only doesn't she know who I am, she has no idea who I was.
Daughter #1 has no idea what it is like to wish for a baby, loose it, get pregnant again (finally!) and get up each and every morning praying, God, just let me hold this baby. Just make her healthy and alive, just let me hold this baby. I will do anything, ANYTHING (even Breastfeed!!!...yup, I actually had an aversion to this before I had Kristen!), just let me hold this baby. Daughter #2 has no idea what it is like to spend a year healing from a difficult delivery and spending every day of that pregnancy pleading for an easy delivery and quick healing. (which I got, by the way).
None of the children know how supremely difficult it was for me to go to college. To take 5 years to do it, all the while working 2 or 3 jobs, waitressing, selling Tupperware, being a jewelry sales girl, work study jobs through UMaine which including Shelving Books at the Bangor Public Library (can you say SNOOZE!), or herding sheep for grad. students and weeding their plots all summer? All those years, all that sacrifice and dedication for that degree to turn around and say, Absolutely! I will stay home and take care of you all and we will live on 21,000 a year. (Carl's starting salary when teaching in Howland, Maine). And I won't blink an eye because I love you and being away from you would never be worth it to me.
They also don't know that their Mom has run a couple small businesses, been the director for a children's ministry, was groomed to be an executive director of a pregnancy center, and trained in abortion recovery. They don't know what it was like for me to be their cheerleader every morning, as I had one girl who despised her elementary years, then go off to work after dropping them off at school to be attacked by a child daily who did not know if I was imaginary or real. Or try to work with a group of 5 year olds who took a 1/2 of a school year to listen to ONE STORY! (My 2 year old does that daily!).
There are days when one in hollering about the hair straitner, the house is up in arms as she is sure I put it somewhere on purpose to hide it from her, the other is shooting daggers as I have asked one too many boy questions, life questions, how was your day questions, her response, you know, you should really become a reporter with this line of questioning. SIGH. Those without teens, or those who had the perfect teens, please do not post suggestions to me. I don't need suggestions. I don't need judgement. I just need a good strong drink occasionally, but alas, I don't drink alcohol, so I choose chocolate & coffee & time alone sitting at Governors.
Some Day my children might see me.
But maybe not.
Maybe someday when they stop worrying about grades, sports, relationships, getting drivers licenses, cool boots, eyeliner, and makeup, they might look up and see their mom.
Someone who freely gave up what she felt was her academic calling, who is always here, who wants to have their friends over and make it fun for them, who is available when they call for a ride, who cant wait for them to get home and ask questions about their day, who needs to look in their eyes and face every day, making assessments on their demeanor, who plans all healthy meals to make sure they are healthy, who makes sure either Dad or I are at their sporting events, who CAN find ANYTHING.
Maybe I will be "seen" by them one day.
This is where the selflessness of parenting comes in. It is never about me. Ever. I Have Kids.
Either way, I am not going anywhere, and I will continue with my reporter-esque line of questions.
NO ONE gets rid of me easy, ever....
Love to all the Moms, and Big Time Hugs to the ones with Teenagers!!!
Still blessed,
Julie
Saturday, March 2, 2013
You Cannot Rush a Season.
This week I returned to exploring the Bangor City Forest with my son. I was able to purchase him some new snow boots, and my husbands snow pants fit me, so walah, I got Daniel and myself geared up to enjoy the elements.
Upon arriving at the forest, I was greeted by majestically snow coated trees, and a stillness that began to enter my soul. I remembered why I love coming to this place so much. It is removed, quiet, no unnecessary chatter or chaos, and still. The tranquility is exactly what my weary soul needed. As Daniel and I proceeded down the trail, he decided to lay in the snow. I asked him What are you doing, Daniel. Laying down Mum. Do you like laying down? Yes, Mum. Mum, please come and lay down with me and look at the sky. And so I did.
I had made a sarcastic comment on my earlier post about wanting to notice more than flower petals and snowflakes, that I wanted to see God actually move and care. Well, He called my bluff, bringing me back, yet again to His Creation to see the blessings in my life. As I was laying in the snow looking at the sky, I noticed all the naked tree branches. I was thinking, well, thats not very pretty, those branches are missing their leaves. And then I looked closer. All the branches had buds on them, just waiting to burst forth with leaves. And then the thought came to me.
You Can Not Rush the Seasons.
"There is a time for EVERYTHING, and a season for EVERY ACTIVITY under heaven" Eccl 3:1
"He has made EVERYTHING beautiful in His Time" Eccl 3:11a
I have been trying to rush and fix the seasons in our lives. Like I have some sort of supernatural control of the Universe. I have been upset and discouraged. I have wanted things to go different ways than they have gone. I have even shaken the proverbial fist at God saying there is no way You can care and see all this.
And my reminder came in the tree buds. Thank you Ann Voskamp.
The unopened tree buds.
The tree buds will open, when in season.
The leaves will grow, when in season.
They will change color, when in season. And they will fall off the branches, when the season comes for those leaves to disappear. All of these seasons signify a change I have absolutely no control over. But the one who made the leaves does have the control, The Creator of the Leaves.
The Creator of the Robbins Nest sees our seasons. The seasons of birth and death. The season of planting and uprooting, killing and healing, tearing down and building, weeping and laughing! YES! mourning and dancing! YES! and on and on and on.
Read Ecclesiastes Chapter 3. Such a Good Reminder of the Sovereignty of God.
Our Seasons in this life are under watchful care of the One Who Created Them.
All Of Them.
I would only choose good seasons, how about you? By good I mean Pain Free. However, I am learning even in our pain, we grow. We develop. We become better stewards of what we have been gifted with. We realize what is important, our focus is shifted in a more positive direction. We become ready for the next season. We become ready, at the right and perfect time, to Bloom when it is in season to bloom.
And this IS all seen by the One Who Created our Life Seasons.
Sigh.
And this, this realization from laying in the snow with my special blessing who draws me closer to God when I allow it. Come, Mum, come lay in the snow and look at the sky. Wow.
Thank You for this season. Thank you for what I am allowing myself to learn and accept. Thank you for the love you give me for others, even when the season of that love includes hurt.
I am growing from my Season.
Love from the Nest,
Julie
Upon arriving at the forest, I was greeted by majestically snow coated trees, and a stillness that began to enter my soul. I remembered why I love coming to this place so much. It is removed, quiet, no unnecessary chatter or chaos, and still. The tranquility is exactly what my weary soul needed. As Daniel and I proceeded down the trail, he decided to lay in the snow. I asked him What are you doing, Daniel. Laying down Mum. Do you like laying down? Yes, Mum. Mum, please come and lay down with me and look at the sky. And so I did.
I had made a sarcastic comment on my earlier post about wanting to notice more than flower petals and snowflakes, that I wanted to see God actually move and care. Well, He called my bluff, bringing me back, yet again to His Creation to see the blessings in my life. As I was laying in the snow looking at the sky, I noticed all the naked tree branches. I was thinking, well, thats not very pretty, those branches are missing their leaves. And then I looked closer. All the branches had buds on them, just waiting to burst forth with leaves. And then the thought came to me.
You Can Not Rush the Seasons.
"There is a time for EVERYTHING, and a season for EVERY ACTIVITY under heaven" Eccl 3:1
"He has made EVERYTHING beautiful in His Time" Eccl 3:11a
I have been trying to rush and fix the seasons in our lives. Like I have some sort of supernatural control of the Universe. I have been upset and discouraged. I have wanted things to go different ways than they have gone. I have even shaken the proverbial fist at God saying there is no way You can care and see all this.
And my reminder came in the tree buds. Thank you Ann Voskamp.
The unopened tree buds.
The tree buds will open, when in season.
The leaves will grow, when in season.
They will change color, when in season. And they will fall off the branches, when the season comes for those leaves to disappear. All of these seasons signify a change I have absolutely no control over. But the one who made the leaves does have the control, The Creator of the Leaves.
The Creator of the Robbins Nest sees our seasons. The seasons of birth and death. The season of planting and uprooting, killing and healing, tearing down and building, weeping and laughing! YES! mourning and dancing! YES! and on and on and on.
Read Ecclesiastes Chapter 3. Such a Good Reminder of the Sovereignty of God.
Our Seasons in this life are under watchful care of the One Who Created Them.
All Of Them.
I would only choose good seasons, how about you? By good I mean Pain Free. However, I am learning even in our pain, we grow. We develop. We become better stewards of what we have been gifted with. We realize what is important, our focus is shifted in a more positive direction. We become ready for the next season. We become ready, at the right and perfect time, to Bloom when it is in season to bloom.
And this IS all seen by the One Who Created our Life Seasons.
Sigh.
And this, this realization from laying in the snow with my special blessing who draws me closer to God when I allow it. Come, Mum, come lay in the snow and look at the sky. Wow.
Thank You for this season. Thank you for what I am allowing myself to learn and accept. Thank you for the love you give me for others, even when the season of that love includes hurt.
I am growing from my Season.
Love from the Nest,
Julie
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Are you feeling Sorry for Yourself???? hmmmm
I almost did not go to church this morning. I went out to the car, doors frozen, and I came back into the house. I was running late anyway. I was going by myself to this service, and I thought, whats the point anyway? Really, what is the point??? Forgive me for the sorry for myself nature of this post, but, well, here is the truth of the moment. I have been having my doubts as to how much control God really has over my life. Does He really care at all? I even said to my Bible study group a week or so ago, I am tired of recording "flower petal" type blessings in my journal. If you read the book 1000 gifts, you get my sarcasm. (and by the way, I loved the book and still keep my journal). I want to see God moving. For instance, when I pray about something, I actually want to see change. Not just noticing snowflakes in nature, or light shining through a window. I want earth shattering noticeable changes. I want to know God is really out there in the universe giving a crap about my day, my life, my struggles, my kids and their heartbreaks, the fact that I have a $1000 oil bill and ABSOLUTELY no way to pay for it with cash. Does He, the Creator of The Snowflakes and the Flower petals Care at all??? Some days, I am not sure. There, I said it, I am not sure.
I also confessed to my Monday night group that the past 2 and 1/2 years has been some of the most difficult times in our existence as a family. We have struggled financially, emotionally, relationally, spiritually. All the while, I am trying to find "the Good". "The Good" of the struggle. I am not convinced about the "good of a struggle" at the moment. I am reduced to tears in a moment. I am tired of the struggles I see that have come to my daughter. I can barely stand it some days, and yet, am not suppose to talk about it, tell anyone about it, forget it is all going on. In June, another struggle, Elizabeth big back surgery. I am trying NOT to think about this, as E is not the best patient, and, oh, I will just stop here.
There have been moments of caring from others, for which I am grateful. Sweet Teresa Howe and her meals, always on time. Sweet Valerie McDougal, with her famous turkey pot pies. My girlfriends, and other family, and their knowing how crappy it really has been for us at times.
Someone recently asked me "How are you doing Julie", they really did not have time for my answer, as they were running somewhere. I said, "I am completely exhausted." The person actually stopped, "Really, whys that?? Maybe you can rest and watch the football game tonight." WEll, no, we don't have a television that has cable, or one we can just watch regular shows on, but some day, I am hoping we will." But, if watching a football game could cure me right now, I would watch 50 of them in a row and not move.
As I entered the service today, I thought, I hope no one talks to me. I will just cry and I do not want to talk about it, and quite frankly, no one ever has the time to talk. That is one thing that perpetually bothers me. No one has time. In & out, getting kids, 5 seconds here, 10 seconds there, no time to talk. I sit in a row, and I am by myself. The first song has already started, phew, I even missed the hand shaking time, which is awkward anyway, and I know the words. But, by the third song, its getting to me. That presence that I don't know what to think about right now because I am sad, is getting to me. Those words we are singing, begin to sooth my sad spirit. There's a new song that says something about how Your Love Never Fails, that there might be crying in the night (and the morning, and the noon time) but Joy will come. This is soothing my spirit.
And then faces begin to appear as my eyes are closed in worship. Faces of teenagers that I feel led to pray for. And then the realization hits me, that in the midst of my sadness and doubt, I still have Jesus. He is still here. And these other kids and parents and friends, they have NO IDEA about the completeness of Jesus. I can cry and weep and be sad, but still have somewhere to go each week, and be soothed.
And of course, the sermon was on GRATITUDE. oh, of course it was. and PRAISE, of course.
Okay God, I am glad you love me no matter what.
I am glad that you see my doubt and still get me through a snowstorm to be soothed.
I know prayer isn't like a laundry list of things I tell you to do, but PLEASE, you know the areas I am BEGGING you for, and I need to see.....something, something tangible.
I do want truth, Your Truth. Help me to see it.
In my foibles to walk this walk, and talk this talk of God in all things, I need the belief to go with it. I need the assurance I am not nuts, that belief matters, that this time and space will be a memory that I can see good coming from.
I guess, as I can readily and easily extend the hand of Grace and Mercy to others, I need to do it to myself.
Thank you for reading, and yes, you can pray if you feel led.
With Faith the size of a Mustard seed,( thats all I need right?)
Love to you all, Julie
I also confessed to my Monday night group that the past 2 and 1/2 years has been some of the most difficult times in our existence as a family. We have struggled financially, emotionally, relationally, spiritually. All the while, I am trying to find "the Good". "The Good" of the struggle. I am not convinced about the "good of a struggle" at the moment. I am reduced to tears in a moment. I am tired of the struggles I see that have come to my daughter. I can barely stand it some days, and yet, am not suppose to talk about it, tell anyone about it, forget it is all going on. In June, another struggle, Elizabeth big back surgery. I am trying NOT to think about this, as E is not the best patient, and, oh, I will just stop here.
There have been moments of caring from others, for which I am grateful. Sweet Teresa Howe and her meals, always on time. Sweet Valerie McDougal, with her famous turkey pot pies. My girlfriends, and other family, and their knowing how crappy it really has been for us at times.
Someone recently asked me "How are you doing Julie", they really did not have time for my answer, as they were running somewhere. I said, "I am completely exhausted." The person actually stopped, "Really, whys that?? Maybe you can rest and watch the football game tonight." WEll, no, we don't have a television that has cable, or one we can just watch regular shows on, but some day, I am hoping we will." But, if watching a football game could cure me right now, I would watch 50 of them in a row and not move.
As I entered the service today, I thought, I hope no one talks to me. I will just cry and I do not want to talk about it, and quite frankly, no one ever has the time to talk. That is one thing that perpetually bothers me. No one has time. In & out, getting kids, 5 seconds here, 10 seconds there, no time to talk. I sit in a row, and I am by myself. The first song has already started, phew, I even missed the hand shaking time, which is awkward anyway, and I know the words. But, by the third song, its getting to me. That presence that I don't know what to think about right now because I am sad, is getting to me. Those words we are singing, begin to sooth my sad spirit. There's a new song that says something about how Your Love Never Fails, that there might be crying in the night (and the morning, and the noon time) but Joy will come. This is soothing my spirit.
And then faces begin to appear as my eyes are closed in worship. Faces of teenagers that I feel led to pray for. And then the realization hits me, that in the midst of my sadness and doubt, I still have Jesus. He is still here. And these other kids and parents and friends, they have NO IDEA about the completeness of Jesus. I can cry and weep and be sad, but still have somewhere to go each week, and be soothed.
And of course, the sermon was on GRATITUDE. oh, of course it was. and PRAISE, of course.
Okay God, I am glad you love me no matter what.
I am glad that you see my doubt and still get me through a snowstorm to be soothed.
I know prayer isn't like a laundry list of things I tell you to do, but PLEASE, you know the areas I am BEGGING you for, and I need to see.....something, something tangible.
I do want truth, Your Truth. Help me to see it.
In my foibles to walk this walk, and talk this talk of God in all things, I need the belief to go with it. I need the assurance I am not nuts, that belief matters, that this time and space will be a memory that I can see good coming from.
I guess, as I can readily and easily extend the hand of Grace and Mercy to others, I need to do it to myself.
Thank you for reading, and yes, you can pray if you feel led.
With Faith the size of a Mustard seed,( thats all I need right?)
Love to you all, Julie
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
My 2 1/2 year old, The Best Teacher.
Today is New Years Day. I got up with the boy around 7ish a.m. I was actually quite surprised it was that late. He is an early riser, and now, due to some awesome coffee purchased for me(us) as a Christmas gift, I am embracing the early risings.
We did our usual. I played with Daniel in the back room for a bit, tossing a baseball. He got creative and added a pillow for me to use as a target, and we were having fun. I then decided it was time for me to brush my teeth, then get my coffee. He decided he wanted an apple, peel and all. I said, sure. He proceeded to take a couple of bites, only to realize the peeling was still on the apple, wanted to spit it all out, then throw away the apple. I said, oh no, we aren't throwing the apple away, I am going to use it in an apple cake if you don't want it, and I took it from him and began cutting up the apple. NO CUT UP MY APPLE!!! NO CUT!!!! NONONONONONOONOONONOOOOO. Lots of tear proceeded, NONONONONO. I picked him up, put him in a chair in the other room, said, when you can use your words, we can talk. He got out of the chair, followed me into the kitchen, NONONONONONONO.
He was using his one word that mattered to him at the time, with lots of tears.
I stopped cutting and sat on the floor, eye level. Waiting and Watching his unexplainable distress.
He cried. I watched and waited. Beside Him. Then it stopped, and he flung himself into me, partially laying on the floor, partially laying on me. I hugged him. He then proceeded to curl up in a ball in my lap. I hugged him as tight as I could and we just sat there. No More Tears. No one saying anything.
And I began to ponder with my son in my arms.
Sometimes, we just need to wail and cry till its all over for us.
Sometimes, we just need someone to hold us until its over.
Sometimes, we don't have the words, and words aren't necessary.
Most times lots of patience and time is necessary for the holding.
I let a tear slip from my eye as I realized what my son just taught me.
Don't be in a rush for an answer.
Just hug.
Be Slow and Take Time.
Don't always have an agenda, like coffee and making apple cake isn't all that important when someone needs a hug.
You don't need an answer to love on someone.
Whew, this parenting thing continues to humble and change me, and I am so glad.
Blessed 2013 Everyone!
Julie, always willing to be humbled and learn!
We did our usual. I played with Daniel in the back room for a bit, tossing a baseball. He got creative and added a pillow for me to use as a target, and we were having fun. I then decided it was time for me to brush my teeth, then get my coffee. He decided he wanted an apple, peel and all. I said, sure. He proceeded to take a couple of bites, only to realize the peeling was still on the apple, wanted to spit it all out, then throw away the apple. I said, oh no, we aren't throwing the apple away, I am going to use it in an apple cake if you don't want it, and I took it from him and began cutting up the apple. NO CUT UP MY APPLE!!! NO CUT!!!! NONONONONONOONOONONOOOOO. Lots of tear proceeded, NONONONONO. I picked him up, put him in a chair in the other room, said, when you can use your words, we can talk. He got out of the chair, followed me into the kitchen, NONONONONONONO.
He was using his one word that mattered to him at the time, with lots of tears.
I stopped cutting and sat on the floor, eye level. Waiting and Watching his unexplainable distress.
He cried. I watched and waited. Beside Him. Then it stopped, and he flung himself into me, partially laying on the floor, partially laying on me. I hugged him. He then proceeded to curl up in a ball in my lap. I hugged him as tight as I could and we just sat there. No More Tears. No one saying anything.
And I began to ponder with my son in my arms.
Sometimes, we just need to wail and cry till its all over for us.
Sometimes, we just need someone to hold us until its over.
Sometimes, we don't have the words, and words aren't necessary.
Most times lots of patience and time is necessary for the holding.
I let a tear slip from my eye as I realized what my son just taught me.
Don't be in a rush for an answer.
Just hug.
Be Slow and Take Time.
Don't always have an agenda, like coffee and making apple cake isn't all that important when someone needs a hug.
You don't need an answer to love on someone.
Whew, this parenting thing continues to humble and change me, and I am so glad.
Blessed 2013 Everyone!
Julie, always willing to be humbled and learn!
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