For those of you who long for help

But may all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you; may those who long for your saving help always say, 'The LORD is great!'' Psalm 40:16

The family sweetheart. 

She doesn't walk. She could... 

She just doesn't. 

She's reminiscent of our last baby. Angel Baby. Who was content to be carried. She crawled until she was 19 months old, when she finally decided to walk. Yes, 19 months old. 

This little one is the same. She is too happy to just sit on a hip. I know those of you that have boys have absolutely ZERO capability of understanding this. My sister just stands in utter amazement. I'm not making this stuff up. Everytime I'm around Julie I say, 'See? She really isn't interested in moving. She's just content to watch the action. She's content to crawl a few inches and stop to enjoy.' 

Julie nods. And then she shakes her head in amazement.

And come to think of it, she doesn't talk much either.

She's the quintessential baby. 

And I love her for it. 

She has us all wrapped around her fat, chubby, sausage-link fingers. The girls fall over each other to hold her. She's so cool being picked up by little ones not much bigger than her. Anyone who is strong enough, is welcome to hold her, as far as she's concerned. She doesn't react. AT. ALL. Maybe all families that have kids close in age tote the baby on their hip, even when they themselves are still babies...I don't know. But in this family, my girls love babies. They feed her, help get sippy cups, clean up after her, entertain her, read to her, try to make her laugh and even change diapers.

I really don't like blanket statements. I try not to make them. I don't like pigeon hole-ing any of my girls. I hear people do it with their own children and it concerns me. 

I've had people say to me: 

'My Suzy-Q is a tomboy. She would never like something like that.'

or

'My Suzy-Q a girly girl. She only does ____. '

When we as parents tell them what they are, or who they are, WE have defined them. We have told them everything they need to know. What they are and what they will become... in our opinion. 

That's not our job as parents. 

It's probably insecurity. Mom's just trying their best. Who don't know better. But God DOES.

God has made each child soooo unique and cool and interesting. Everything is not black and white. I have learned in my years of parenting, there is a lot of gray. 

And the LORD is in charge. Not me. 

Here's water for a weary Mama-soul...

'He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.' Isaiah 40:11

I would consider it sad if I limited one of my children because of MY own insecurities or doubts or even worse, peer pressure of how the other parents are doing it. Hmmm...

I think we as Mama's LONG for help. 

Let me help you.

We have to give the reigns of child rearing back to the Lord. My kids are His anyway. YOUR kids are His anyway. He loves them SO much more than we could ever dream of. 

'I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you.' Psalm 32:8

Thankfully HE leads US. So we can lead them. Whew. The pressure is gone. The one who made stars, and made starfish, and made stargazer lilies is available to us. To help us. 

'Lord, be gracious to us; we long for you. Be our strength every morning, our salvation in time of distress.' Isaiah 33:2

'He who has compassion on them will guide them and lead them beside springs of water.' Isaiah 49:10

As my girls get older I am BLOWN AWAY that God was so creative with so many different types and personalities of girls...all in one family.

So as I seek the Lord in raising these girls, I think the greatest influence I can have is not what I say...but what I DO, infront of my girls. How I talk to Brian. How I treat him. The tone I use. My body language with him. What a tall order. It's so humbling to really grasp THAT. And what do I do with my free time? Let them 'catch' you reading your bible....everyday. They won't forget. I promise you. Even when they are old and gray, THAT is something they will remember. 

These girls are learning more than 'just' surfing this week. Brian is teaching them to throw a cast net. And I'm teaching them how to cross stitch. 

 They are watching us. They are always watching us. 

Just a few more days at the beach... 

Feeling confident that somewhere in heaven there will be soft white sand and a warm breeze.

But may all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you; may those who long for your saving help always say, 'The LORD is great!'' Psalm 40:16

It's true. The Lord is GREAT. 

He gently leads those that have young...

They did a mini-concert standing on their beds after church. All the windows were flung open. In between 'sets', they were precariously balanced on tippy toes, looking out the window.This post is from the Lord, for the Lord. He wants me to write this stuff down. To blog about it. About some things HE has been teaching ME. Through a special little three-year-old daughter of mine.

It is so difficult to write.

And WAY difficult to be vulnerable. Because I know people actually read this blog. And I have a hard time with stuff like this. And I'm embarrassed.

But it's what He has called me to today... tonight.

If you are the judging type, click on something else. Perhaps Fox News? We bombed Libya.

This post is for those that are Mama's, like me, struggling to do the right thing. Struggling to raise children like the Lord wants me to. Teaching them to love Jesus first, in such a whacked out culture... where material possessions are everything, time is short and keeping a child pure and sweet requires tremendous effort.

I don't yell much. Unless I'm teaching Kickboxing or Bootcamp. And even then, occasionally, I feel guilty. But when it comes to my little family, I don't know, it's simply not my thing. To yell. I don't pride myself on it, I just don't do it much. I don't like it. So when recently I have yelled at the girls, it has surprised ME just as much as it's surprised them. I'm not beating myself up, just telling a story. Again, if you are judging me, it won't do you or me any help, click away now. Story starts after this picture Carlisle took of me...

It was Friday night, Brian was away for the evening. I'd been with the girls all day, all night. I had a 5:30pm aerobics class I had just taught. And I was bustling to get us all home, fed and bathed.

They are my early-to-bed, early-to-rise girls. They turn into pumpkins around 6:30 every evening. It was after 6:30, probably closer to 7:00 and we pulled into the garage. I send Carlisle up to start the bath. I get the baby out of the car. I make her bottle and upstairs we go. The older two are moving slowly. Picture... sweet, little, blond-headed turtles.

I am trying to stay reasonable with them. They are tired. Give them grace. But selfishly, I am thinking about me, me, me. I am worn out. I'd been caring for them all day. They don't nap, they don't stop, they barely breathe, they have more energy than me on my very best day. The job of mother to little ones is SO physical. I always have one baby on my hip. But older ones can turn into babies at any point, and want a lap to sit on....or a hip.

It's Friday. It's been a big, great, tiring week. I had grand plans of sitting down and staring at the walls... or something simple that required no energy or brain power. And, I'm hungry after my kickboxing class. I wanted to put them down, have some dinner, have a few minutes to myself. Nope, I had Turtles. Two of em.

Really? Are they really not even in the bath yet? I am trying to be patient. I help them get undressed and in the bath while giving the baby her bottle. Evelyn goes potty.

I bathe the baby quickly and lay her down in the nursery with her bottle. Carlisle and Evelyn are both in the bath playing contentedly. I come in and turbo-style wash them. I rinse them and bath-time is over. One step closer to dinner, I think. I grab their towels, one in each hand.

I say, 'Ok girls, hop on out.'

No movement. Just happy bathing girls.

I say again, 'Alright girls, hop on out.'

Nothing.

I say a third time, 'Hop out please.'

Nothing. Unfortunately for all involved... I lost it.

I yell, 'G E T O U T O F T H E B A T H !!!!' I yell it so loud it hurts my throat.

What is wrong with me?

I immediately want to gather the words up and stuff them down in my hungry, empty belly. But it's over. It's done. I can't take it back. Not when the beneficiaries of my wrath are 3 and 5 year old girls.

I wonder if any neighbors are out on their decks. Did they just hear that? I am embarrassed. Immediately.

Why did that just come flying out of my mouth? I am mortified.

They both jump up and start quickly climbing out. Evelyn immediately falls apart. She is SUCH a softy. She is crying. Sobbing. She is in the process of climbing out, one leg slung over the side. She stops only long enough to look in my eyes, as if searching to see... 'Is this really her? The Mama I love, I trust, I know. Has she been replaced by some impostor?'

She sees that it is in fact ME, and that truth makes her cry harder. Carlisle is out, wrapped up in her polka dot towel and has darted to the bedroom. She is putting on her jammies, probably trying as hard as she can to stay away from the loud, mean lady.

Evelyn sobs; 'Mommy please don't yell at me!'

I say, 'I am sorry Honey. I shouldn't have yelled. But you girls should have been listening.'

THEN THE CLINCHER. I am wrapping her towel around tiny, little sopping wet body. And she cries, 'GOD heard you. God heard you scream at us Mommy.'

I'm not sure I said anything in response for about 10 seconds. In my head....swimming all around is the verse, 'Be slow to anger, slow to speak and quick to listen.' Evelyn is right on all accounts.

And then, 'You are right Evelyn. I am so sorry.' And I meant it.

They should obey and get out of the bath when I ask. But they are children. And I. The adult. What are they going to do when they get frustrated if I am teaching them to yell?

She continues. 'He doesn't want you to yell at us. He is mad that you yelled.'

It doesn't feel like I am talking to my sweet three-year-old daughter. It sounds like the very voice of God. I am SO convicted. I ask her forgiveness. And she says that she forgives me, but she continues to cry. I have broken her little spirit.

She keeps repeating...like a mantra. 'Mommy your shouldn't yell at us. God doesn't want you to yell at us.'

And I ask her to forgive me. We literally went round and round in circles over this. All the while she is crying. SOOO hurt.

I say, 'Ev, let's pray about this.'

I sit down on the bathroom stool and pull her little, wet, towel-wrapped body into my lap. And I pray. I pray in Jesus name that God would forgive me of being unkind and quick to anger and forgive the girls for not obeying. It was then. And only then, that she quit crying. It had been turned over to the Lord and she let it go. She DIDN'T forget. She brought it up many more times that night saying, 'God doesn't want you to yell at us.' 'God wants you to be sweet to us Mommy.'

The story ends there, except she remembered this traumatic event the next day...and the next. And so I remember this traumatic event. And learn from it.

When you go to God's word, it says lots to the children.

'Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.' Ephesians 6:1

'Children, obey your parents in everything, for this pleases the Lord.' Colossians 3:20

And to me, the Mommy, God's word encourages me SO much.

[Daughters and] 'Sons are a heritage from the LORD, children a reward from him.' Psalm 127:3

'Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.' Ephesians 6:4

'Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged.' Colossians 3:21

And my FAVORITE.
'He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.' Isaiah 40:11

I am forgiven. By the Lord. I am forgiven.

And God himself, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords is gently leading me. To his word. To the TRUTH of his word that cuts me.
'For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double‑edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.' Hebrews 4:12

God wanted me to share this story tonight.

So. There. It. Is.

And just to put it all in perspective. This is the same little three year old who woke up this morning and said, 'I sleeped about a butterfly last night.' (dreamed)

She's just a sweet little baby who is pushing me towards the cross. Praise God.So, we march on into a new week.

I, fully and certainly aware of my big, ugly flaws. My occasionally short fuse, but also thankful for the FORGIVENESS that only a child can give and GRACE and FORGIVENESS that only God can give.

'But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.' 2 Corinthians 12:9

Upstairs, in the girls girly, green room...

The girls who love me and forgive me, in an almost Christ-like way, of all my yuck-ola and imperfections, give an afternoon concert. Tickets are free...only payment is a smile and even some applause at the end of each song or dance.

Carlisle on bass guitar...Ev on lead vocals....

And one strawberry blond groupie, who's clinging to Jesus in an effort to navigate this important job called Motherhood.

Firsts and Lasts

They graduated.

2K and 3K.

I am sooo glad that I have another baby girl to do all of the firsts and lasts with. I am so glad that she will go to 2K one day with her little backpack on. I seriously would be having a hard hard time if this were it for 2K and 3K and that chapter was closed.

~

I found a poem in my pool bag.
Someone had given it to Brian to give to me. So he stuck it in with the swimsuits and goggles the swimmy diapers and towels.

It's perfect.

My friends ask me how I have time to blog. (Which obviously I haven't recently.)

I guess the answer is that I try to make the time, because I don't want to forget these days.

I KNOW I am in the weeds. It is hard-hard. It is exhausting. The weeds are TALL.
The girls out-number me.
They out-energize me.
They out-emotion me.
They out-wit me. (only sometimes)

BUT, and it's a BIG 'BUT'...

Jesus gives me strength, everyday. He made me for this. I love my job as Mother. I love being there for them. Kissing their boo-boo's. Putting their pigtails in. Picnicing everyday. Teaching them to write and read. Telling them about Jesus. I know, without a doubt, that one day I will say; 'those were the good old days'. When everyone was a accounted for and safely tucked into their beds everynight. When stuffed animals were best friends and when Daddy and I were still perfect.

I couldn't do this job. Period. Without Jesus. I pray for my girls. I pray when I don't know what in the heck I am doing. I read my bible for answers. For guidance.

And I find treasures like:

'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commmandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your CHILDREN. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.' Deuteronomy 6:5-7

It's why I blog.
I just don't want to forget...
Today?

I don't want to forget their little faces on their LAST day of 2K and 3K.
Oh and a FIRST?
Vivian is sleeping through the night. 12 hours a night. Yes 12. Yes she is 3 months old.
God is spoiling me. At least for a day or 2. Or a week or two. I'll take it!

Let Me Hold You Longer
by Karen Kingsbury
~
Long ago you came to me, a miracles of first:
First smiles and theeth and baby steps,
A sunbeam on the burst.
But on e day you will move away and leave me to your past,
And I will be left thinking of a lifetime of your lasts...
~
The last time that I held a bottle to your baby lips,
The last time that I lifted you and held you on my hip.
The last night when you woke up crying, needing to be walked.
When last you crawled up with your blanket, wanting to be rocked.
~
The last time when you ran to me, still small enough to hold.
The last time that you said you'd marry me when you grew old.
Precious, simple moments and bright flashes from your past -
Would I have held on longer if I'd known they were your last?
~
Our last adventure to the park, your final midday nap,
The last time when you wore your favorite faded baseball cap.
~
Your last few hours of kindergarten,
Those last days of first grade,
Your last at bat in Little League, last colored picture made. I never said good-bye to all your yesterdays long passed.
So what about tomorrow -- Will I recognize your lasts?
~
The last time that you catch a frog in that old backyard pond.
The last time that you run barefoot across our fresh-cut lawn.
Silly, scattered images will represent your past.
I keep on taking pictures never quite sure of your lasts....
The last time that I comb your hair or stop a pillow fight
The last time that I pray with you and tuck you in at night.
The last time when we cuddle with a book, just me and you.
The last time you jump in our bed and sleep between us two.
~
The last piano lesson, last vacation to the lake.
Your last few weeks of middle school, last soccer goal you make.
I look ahead and dream of days that haven't come to pass.
But as I do, I sometimes miss today's sweet, precious lasts...

The last time that I help you with a math or spelling test.

The last time when I say that yes, your room is still a mess.

The last time that you need me for a ride from here to there.

The last time that you spend the night with your old tattered bear.

~
My life keeps moving faster, stealing precious days that pass.

I want to hold on longer - want to recognize your lasts...

The last time that you need my help with details of a dance.

The last time that you ask me for advice about romance.

~

The last time that you talk to me about your hopes and dreams.

The last time that you wear a jersey for your high school team.

I've watch you grow and barely noticed seasons as they pass.
If I could freeze the hands of time, I'd hold on to your lasts.
For come some bright fall morning, you'll be going far away.
College life will beckon in a brilliant sort of way.
One last hug, one last good-bye, one quick and hurried kiss.
One last time to understand just how much you'll be missed.
I'll watch you leave and think how fast our time together passed.

Let me hold on longer, God, to every precious last.

I'm teaching this Saturday! An hour and a half of ZUMBA!
The 4th Annual Beach Blast Zumba Party! 10:00 - 11:30am

And Beach Blast Zumba Party for the kids 9:30 - 10:00am (Ages 3-12)

HALL PASS! Without restrictions

I feel like I just got a High School hall pass or a Monopoly 'get out of jail free' card. Except the jail isn't my home, it's life without the job of motivating and encouraging. Having to be somewhere. Being surrounded by healthy, happy, enthusiastic, fun friends that like to sweat.
The note that the doctor wrote says, 'Can return to work without restrictions'.
So I am back to the gym. Teaching aerobics. Doing what I love. What I miss. Seeing all my buddies. Thrilled to return.
It's a great break from the busyness of the three little ones. Especially when one of them is sick. When I took Evelyn's temperature this morning, it was 102.6. And that was 2 hours after having Tylenol. She is miserable, but VERY sweet.

My Gratitude ~ The way God made His love visible for ME...TODAY.

~

A 4-year-old little helper bright and early this morning, in the kitchen

.

A lap that is big enough for two girls

.

The best babysitter in the entire world

.

A good friend who took a girl for the afternoon

.

Scraping enough peanut butter out of the jar for just one more peanut butter and jelly sandwich

.

A pacifier that works every 75th time you try it

.

Babies hiccups eventually go away

.

Hot shower

.

Cantelope that tastes as good as spring feels

.

Scale says I've lost a few more

.

The swing that lulls her to sleep even when it's not on

.

A newborn's yawn

.

A quick dinner date later (Hopefully. If little one is better.)

.

A friend that encourages

.

A bouncy seat that vibrates

.

Text messages that make you smile

.

That it only took 45 minutes at the doctor