Just call me Ringmaster...(part 1)

     May is always an especially busy time for my family.  Since Dean and I are both teachers (high school), there are additional events we attend (i.e. 2 proms, 2 graduations, etc.). In addition, we are both teachers of subjects that have state tests.  Therefore, we stay pretty stressed.  On top of that, Dean's work on the farm doubles, and hay season hits then too, so he needs to work longer hours to get hay "up" (cut, fluffed, racked, and bailed) as quickly as he can.  It stinks; not the hay part alone, the combination of everything.  This year has been a particular struggle since I have started my Premier business, AND...... SISSY'S GETTING MARRIED (WOOHOO)!!!! Just this morning, I equated organizing my family for the next two weeks to being the conductor of a symphony, but honestly, I think it's more like being the ringmaster of a three ring circus.  I can handle the ordinary struggles listed above, sort of, but to add chaos to chaos, the twins have begun to add their own craziness to our "down time",  and Princess isn't helping much either. 

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, in this ring.....

     Bubba, aka Tank, is wanting very badly to walk.  He's not there yet, but what he lacks in walking ability, he makes up for with his climbing skills.  HE CLIMBS EVERYTHING!!!!!!!  Therefore, I have dubbed him my high wire act.  He is fearless.  Anything he can get a leg up on, he can climb.  He may fall, but he can climb it.  This is a new problem for me.  Princess didn't climb.  Granted, every moment of my life was devoted to making sure she didn't get hurt, so maybe it was more me than her.  At this point in my life, it is impossible to watch every child every second, and trust me, he's fast.  Therefore, he has thus far conquered the Dora table, kitchen chairs, the fireplace ledge, the walker (he didn't make it in the the correct manner), and I'm honestly not sure what else.  He may also be an alligator wrestler, since he tends to beat up his sisters without even knowing it.  He's unusually strong for his age, which he proves by laying back and flinging his chunky little bull legs together when throwing a fit.  He could take down any ol' gator he wanted.  In this circus, he'll play both roles.

AND IN THIS RING.....

     Tinker Belle is my contortionist.  Just you try to get her in her car seat when she doesn't want to be.  She somehow bows herself out so that you loosen the straps to get her in, then she shrinks herself down and can pull her arms through, so you have to tighten it right back up.  (I always win this fight, but she sure is clever.)  She can squeeze into tight, tiny places.  I know because she usually can't get back out.  How she gets between the couch and the wall is beyond me.  You'd think that wherever her shoulders could fit, she could get back out of, but no.  She also will weave herself through a variety of larger play toys, and then get stuck.  She may also be the escape artist.  I have yet to find a high chair that can contain her.  She is so tiny, that we have the straps as tight as they can go, but if she can get one little foot up and under her, she's as good as out.  She hasn't fallen out yet, but before I could get Princess's dinner plate fixed, she was standing up, looking proud.  I feel like these traits will serve her well in our little family circus.

AND FINALLY....

     Princess will more than likely become the owner of the entire circus since she can manipulate better than most adults, but for right now, she's my lion tamer.  She spends a great deal of time trying to train the twins to do what she wants of them.  If she really wants them to be in another room, she'll carry drag them there.  We scold her constantly, but I think she does it without thinking.  She will try to take their hands or grab them from behind around their chest (just under the armpit) and let them walk, but Tinker Belle isn't all that concerned with walking and usually just lifts up her legs and smiles as Princess carries her through the house.  She's naturally bossy, so I think these are the best jobs for her.

     Dean and I are usually the dual Ringmasters, or maybe we're the clowns.  I'm not really sure.  Together, we are all a freak show.  Dean and I try our best to keep everyone organized, happy, and healthy.  That alone is a big job.  Throw in life, and it's almost impossible.  I've actually been gone for a while due to a sickness that swept through the children in our house robbing us all of sleep.  Although I wasn't sure at times, we made it.  The circus survived one show and has moved on to another.  Let's see what the next crowd thinks.

~Stay tuned for more about farming, jewelry, and Sissy's wedding.  I promise it'll be posted soon.~

Here's my prayer for all you other ringmasters out there:

     "God, today what I want is to not only survive, but to thrive.  I want joy to be the tone of my family.  I want to be a good mother and wife.  I want to feel fulfilled by You.  I want to feel peace even when the storm is raging.  Help me to be organized.  Help my children to be happy.  Help us to love You better. Help me to ENJOY this life You've blessed me with.  Amen."

Peace--and Green eggs and Ham

I'll admit upfront that I shamelessly stole this idea from my good friend SFields.  She is such a talented writer (you can read her blog by clicking on it on the side of this page--ethanfgodschild), and recently she posted about unfairness to the rhyme of "If You Give A Mouse A Cookie".  It was beautiful and moving.  I was sitting at the table today worrying over the fact that Princess (4) doesn't eat anything while sharing my supper with the twins (10 months) who had already eaten their own dinner but decided they wanted mine too.  They've been into EVERYTHING lately, doing things like pulling everything out of a cabinet, climbing on our Dora table, you name it.  Anyway, I was wallowing in my reoccurring self pity of "wanting peace".  At the same time, I was lamenting the fact that my four year old turned her nose up at the healthy dinner I worked hard (amidst screaming babies) to fix her.  Then, it hit me.  I all too often turn my nose up at the peace God offers, even though I know it is good for me.  I was reminded of the Dr. Seuss rhyme "Green Eggs and Ham".  So, while I'm definitely no poet and I lost the flow here and there, here's the Rea version of "Green Eggs and Ham" rightly named "Peace" since that is what God graciously offers me even when I constantly refuse it.  Now is a good time to mention that my nickname is pronounced "Ray" though spelled differently, since it would mess up the rhyme if you pronounce it otherwise.


"PEACE"
 

Good morning my dear little Rea,

I’ve brought some peace for you today

Oh no, dear Lord, I’ll be just fine.

I’m much too busy racing time.

For I’m late you see, to teach my pupils,

But maybe later after I pay the bills.

...

Good lunchtime to my precious Rea,

I still have peace for you today.

Oh no, dear Lord, I’m in a rush.

It’s so loud here; I need some hush.

So instead of taking peace from You,

I think I’ll whine to a friend or two.

...

 

Good afternoon my sweet girl Rea,

I’ve kept some peace for you today.

So sorry Lord, but I’m feeling hazy,

And it’s time for me to go see my babies.

They’ve missed me, You see, while I’ve be gone,

But maybe I’ll try some tonight at home.

...

 

Good dinner to my little girl Rea,

There’s still some time for peace today.

Oh, I could not try it now dear God!

There are dishes waiting to be washed,

And then there’s laundry in a pile,

And those bills I mentioned have waited erewhile,

But before that, three baths and then my own,

And my favorite TV show comes on,

And then of course to you I’ll pray

(I’m already thinking of Holy things to say.)

You see my Savior, there’s just too much

I’d love some peace, but my time’s a crunch,

And while I’m at it, I’ll need to have read,

And cleaned the toilet before going to bed,

And then I’ll lay down my weary head,

And I’ll call to you and ask for…..peace.

...

 

Good night to you my princess Rea,

I hope you’ll take this peace I’ve saved.

OKAY, OKAY, I’ll try it out,

But if it doesn’t work, I’m sure to pout.

What do you think my sweet child Rea,

Do you like the peace I gave?

Oh, yes Dear Lord! I love it dear!

I did not know you were so near

Following me from place to place

Offering peace in my crazy race.

It seems strange now, those things stressing me

Are nothing at all, yet they made me scream.

I never want to lose this peace,

For my hurting soul has begun to ease.

Thank You, God, forgive me I pray

For avoiding the peace You offer each day.

Now don’t you see my silly Rea,

I’ll give you peace brand new each day.

Just trust me with those little things,

And see what strength my true peace brings.

Hold tight to it and I’ll see you through

And that peace I give will exude from you

And you’ll show it to the world around

And they’ll ask about this peace you’ve found.

Then, my dear, you lead them to me,

And I’ll give them peace that sets them free.

And one day in heaven you’ll all be found

With peace untold all around

Then, my dear, My plan you’ll see,

Just take this peace that sets you free.

One more iron in the fire?

     I have never been more busy in life than I am now.  I struggle so much to just enjoy certain parts of my day.  I find myself throwing down a shirt mid-folding to pick up one of my kids and kiss their little faces just to pick up the shirt and start over.  Oh well, I think.  I'll be happier that I did it than I would be if I hadn't.  I think as mothers we can all agree that there are never too many kisses or cuddles.  I can't always neglect my housework, but you wouldn't know it to look around my house sometimes.  Still, through the chaos, I have yearned for a ministry.  My husband and I host and teach a small group for youth, but I have wanted a ministry of my own.  I love supporting Dean's passion for Christ, but I felt that God wanted more from me than to just clean up the house, cook a little dinner, and be the " youth mom" to our group.  He gave me my own gifts to use, and I was hiding behind all of the things I was doing already rather then trying to fulfill His purpose in my life.  I believe we travel through phases in life and along the way God shows us how to use that time in our lives to serve Him best.  If we aren't careful, we may pass through a phase without serving Him specifically.  What a tragedy.  I can already look back in my life and see times I've missed using the gifts I had at the time to serve Him best.  I didn't want that regret again just because I was "busy raising my children". 
     Since the twins were born (and I suppose even when I was pregnant with them) I have been drawn to women's ministries.  What I feel led to do, which I'm hoping won't surprise you much, is encourage other women.  I want to encourage ladies of all ages, from the high school to the nursing home, but most specifically I want to encourage young(ish) women and mothers of young children.  I think it's only natural that I'm drawn to women in my own bracket of life.  I floundered around a while, and honestly, you ladies helped me.  I began this blog searching for a ministry.  I actually had hoped that the blog could be my ministry, and while I believe God has used it, I think it has mostly ministered to me.  Eventually, I found what God has been leading me to, and of course, it was something I had been running from for quite a while because it just seems so crazy.
     A friend of mine sells jewelry.  I have hosted shows for her and attended more shows than I can count.  Now, I like jewelry (specifically diamonds), but I have never really worn tons of it, not this kind of jewelry especially.  (It's called "high fashion" jewelry.)  When I thought of this jewelry, (perhaps you've heard of Premier Jewelry) I thought of beautiful middle-aged (my mom is going to kill me for that part) ladies who wear wonderfully put-together outfits with matchy-matchy jewelry.  I, in contrast, am a throw together a (relatively) cute outfit, make sure I have on my wedding rings (I live in a small town), and pray I don't have baby puke on me anywhere type of gal.  I did like the jewelry though, and I have purchased a bit of it over the years.  The jewelry lady, KS-blingbling we'll call her, always talks about the company and how wonderful it is.  Now maybe I wasn't listening closely because I was distracted by the shiny things around me, or maybe I just didn't care, but one day I actually paid a little attention to what I think of as the "you should do this too" speech.  It turns out that Premier was founded by Andy and Joan Horner when they retired because they wanted to become missionaries.  When they realized that God was not leading them to the mission field in a foreign country (which is what they wanted), they began listening to what God wanted them to do.  I could SO relate!  Long story short, their gift was in business, so they began a business that would support missions.  I loved this idea.  Even more, they pay their jewelers as much as possible in order to support single mothers, stay at home mothers, those who simply need more income, those in the education system, and those in full time ministry.  No one is sitting back and getting rich off of the profits, rather, the profits go to a wide variety of ministries around the world.  (Everyone should look into this company just to know there are some truly righteous people out there with the goal of serving God with their talents in business.)  
     After hearing this, I briefly thought about becoming a Premier jeweler.  It lasted about 5 seconds before my right mind kicked in.  I was pregnant with twins for crying out loud.  I didn't have the energy to brush my teeth half the time, much less take on another job.  It nagged at me a little though.  I am not a good sales person, and I hate to ever feel like I'm begging someone for something, even purchasing a product.  Therefore, this Premier thing was not for me.  Still..... I went to another party, almost went for it, and then backed out.  After a year of thinking about it a little here and there, I talked to KS-blingbling about going for it, and I began praying HARD.  All I wanted, I told God, was a little doubt so that I wouldn't have to invest time, money, and effort into this "jewelry thing", much less try to talk to my husband (who does NOT understand the importance of jewelry) that I felt like God was leading me to sell jewelry.  Even typing the statement feels crazy to me.  Why on earth would God ever "lead someone to sell jewelry"?!?  Bibles, maybe.  Religious fiction, you're pushing it.  Jewelry, uh..no.  Anyway, it wouldn't leave me alone.  It was like a bad version of that song "The cat came back the very next day".  The idea followed me to work, home, the shower, and worse of all, bed where it would take up all the room and not let me rest (well, the idea and my three kids were working together on the no rest part).  I would lay there thinking, "God, what I really want is to be the next Beth Moore."  Granted, I didn't wanted to have to write a book or devotional, and I didn't really know how to branch out, and I basically cry the whole time I try to teach the Bible...But God has used unlikely people before, right?  So, I wanted to be a Christian motivational speaker.  There ya go God.  Just wave that cosmic wand and give me the ministry that my vanity, I mean the Holy Spirit, has led me to... Isn't it amazing that God doesn't strike us down sometimes?  There I sat, fighting.  I wanted to work with pregnant teens, I wanted to work with mothers of small children, I wanted to encourage and inspire, and for some reason God wasn't making it happen no matter how hard I cried and prayed.  Hhhmmm.  Maybe it was because the sentence above had too many "I's" in it.  All of those ministries are wonderful, but I wanted to do them because they make me feel good.  What God wanted was to take me out of my comfort zone, put me somewhere that is unlikely to bring glory to Him, and then show His glory to those around me.  Okay, God, I submit.  I will invest time that I don't think I have, money that I know I don't have, and talent that I'm not so sure about either in what You have chosen.  I will sacrifice and invest in Your plan for me.  As soon as I submitted, I felt better.  Honestly, I felt so much better after just going with it that I didn't even care if it made money.  I mean, it's not like anything I had chosen for myself was going to send me loads of cash, right?  I was hoping to make back my investment (just because I didn't want Dean to suffer with me if I didn't), but even then, it was honestly a small price to pay to get the nagging off my conscience.  In it, all I heard was, "where's your faith Rea?  Would I ask you to do something that would harm you, or harm you without purpose?  You told Me I was most important to you Rea, so why aren't you living that way?  You told me that you loved Me more than you loved your husband or children, but you are using them as an excuse."  It was awful, but it was true.  It's so easy to hide behind my family.  I love them so much, but I love God more.  He is my savior and creator.  He is the only reason I know how to love at all, yet I'm going to put something (even an important something) in front of His will?  How dare I! 
     So here I am.  I'm a licensed jeweler for Premier Designs Company, with the goal of showing love, encouragement, and glorifying God by going into the homes of any woman who will let me in and enriching her life, if even for an hour.  Wish me luck...Better yet, pray for me.  I'm going to need it.  Here's my prayer for myself as well as my prayer for any other woman looking for her ministry or fighting the ministry God has given her:
   "Oh, Lord, thank You so much for knowing what's best for me and keeping a firm hand on my desires.  Thank You for not letting me convince you of what ministry is right for me.  I praise You for taking me out of my comfort zone, even while it is still painful and awkward.  Touch the hearts of my dear friends who are looking for their own special way to serve You, and help them to listen better than I have.  Please put Your hand on their shoulders as comfort.  Help us to glorify You in all we do, whether it is what we expect or not.  We praise You for how You've used us so far and how You will use us in the future."

Let's remember to encourage one another to actively serve God in the way He leads us.  I love you guys!

Rainbows and butterflies

     Anytime I see a rainbow, I can't help but think of my maternal grandmother.  She died when I was 21, but she left an imprint on my heart that will never fade.  Today, I didn't even see a real rainbow; it was just a picture, but it still reminded me of her illness and the promises of God.  When my Grammy (her choice I promise) was ill, we would drive a certain back road to get from her house to the hospital she was in that was about an hour and a half away.  It seemed like every time we went, we saw at least one rainbow, maybe more.  We would cry and praise God for His promises.  We knew her death was only a matter of time, and at that point, we were torn between wanting to hang on to her and knowing it would be more merciful to allow her to let go.  I've always loved her in a special way that I can't explain, and her death was scary to me.  I asked God a lot of questions about why she had to suffer so much, and eventually He showed me the answer.
     My grandmother was a wonderful lady.  She was not, however, a great Christian example in her life.  She was of the luke warm class.  I do not say this disrespectfully;  I am simply being honest.  She went to church, usually.  She taught Sunday school when she was on an upswing.  It was obvious she was saved, but she did not serve God to the fullest.  When I was little, I thought she was the most magnificent person in the world.  She always paid attention to me, gave me anything I wanted, took me anywhere I wanted to go.  She was a southern lady in all respects; she was the kind of lady who wore pantyhose with her dress shorts in 110 degree Georgia heat.  She never left her house without putting on her make up and fixing her hair.  She smoked constantly.  She was silly.  She made up songs constantly (a trait I tease my mother about as well).  She drank coffee when it was so hot outside I thought I would pass out.  She taught me to swim (though not well).  She was refined and raw at the same time.  She was artistic (and tried in vain to make me so).  She made the best lasagna I have ever eaten.  She was irreverent at times.  She was feisty and full of life.  She and my mother taught me to shop.  She died her hair blond until it turned white, and then she convinced herself it was blonde naturally.  To me, she was perfect.  As I grew, I realized that she was not the kind of Christian I wanted to be.  In turn, she wanted me to be a better Christian than she had been, and she told me so.  I'm glad.  My grandmother was a diabetic from the time she was in her early forties until her death in her late sixties.  I thought for so long that she took great care of herself and her illness because she ate at certain times, always checked her sugar, always carried a little can of orange juice in her purse.  If only I had known then what I know now about controlling blood sugar levels I could have helped her extend and improve her life towards the end.  But alas...
     By her last year on earth, she had been on dialysis for 7 years, she needed heart surgery (they couldn't do much due to the shape it was in), and her worse fears came true.  I don't know if every diabetic fears amputation to the extent my grandmother did, but I remember even when I was young that she would tell us to never let them "cut off my legs".  She told us she would rather die.  She told my grandfather that, and when she was in surgery for her heart, a surgeon came out and told him that what she needed was an amputation of one leg.  My grandfather, God bless him, could not make the decision to keep the leg that would kill her in a few days, so he went against her wishes and signed for an amputation.  I believe this decision haunted him for the rest of his life (he died almost exactly 8 months after her).  That partial amputation of one leg eventually led to the amputation of both legs up to the thigh and a great deal of tissue removal that soon followed due to bed sores.  It was horrible.  My poor mother, who tried her best to tend to her mother and father while actually living over 500 miles away suffered from the trauma for a long time afterwards.  And she's the strongest person I know.  I have to protect myself from the sadness that threatens to consume me once again when I think of how horribly she suffered for the last 6 months of her life.  Therefore, I can't tell you in any more detail what she went through.  However, through her suffering I saw the most amazing thing.
     While my grandmother was not always the best Christian example in her life, she was one of the most effective in her death.  Not one time did she feel sorry for herself.  She fought hard for as long as we asked her to do so.  Eventually, even my grandpa allowed her to let go.  She never got mad at him for letting the doctors take her legs.  She never made me feel guilty when I visited for not being there more.  Even while she was losing every bit of pride and control of her own body, she did everything she could to make it easier for us.  Isn't that amazing?  She lived in severe pain, knowing she was going to eventually die, but she stayed steady for us.  I asked my mother later on, in a little anger I'll admit, why she had to suffer so much and other people die so easily.  "Because God knew she could."  Simple, huh?  My grandfather followed her in his sleep.  "Massive heart attack", they said.  "Never felt a thing."  Why?  I still wondered.  I know he had suffered enough, with his wife, but why weren't the roles reversed?  I know the answer.  Marylynn had a chance to do in death what I believe she wished she had done in life.  She showed us that to remain steady in your faith in the worse circumstances you can imagine, will leave an impact on those around you.  My father asked her once before we left to come home if she was ready.  Was she ready to meet Jesus?  She wasn't talking much then, but she didn't hesitate for a moment when she said yes.  I heard her myself, and I know she meant it.  She lived for two more weeks after that, but she knew her time was soon.  Her husband, my Papa, couldn't have gone out like that in the same circumstances.  He would have wallowed in self pity, been mean, ranted, raved, you name it.  That is who he was.  Her death changed him a little though.  It softened him.  I can see now that their deaths both served a purpose in my life.  I learned so much about God and His love for us through my grandmother's willingness to suffer because she loved us so much.  How much more was the pain of the  cross?  unimaginable.
     In so many ways, she helped make me who I am today.  She molded my mother in a special relationship, who in turn molded me.  She built my confidence when no one else could, and she used what life she had left, to show the world true strength.  I don't know why I even felt like I should write this, and I'm not sure how it fits in my blog.  I'm just thankful that at the last minute, Dean and I decided to take part of her name (and my mother's passed down from her) to use in naming Tinker Belle.  And now that I think of it, maybe that's where Tinker's feisty little attitude comes from at times.  Here is what I pray when I think of my Grammy:
     "God, thank you for giving Grammy the opportunity to show her devotion to You.  Help my family to have learned to serve You throughout our lives, because death may come soon.  I praise You for the time you gave me with her, and while I sometimes feel sad that she didn't get to meet my children, thank You for life everlasting where we will meet again.  Help me keep her memory real in my heart.  Thank You for Your promises in life to never leave us or forsake us.  Thank You for rainbows that bring that promise to my mind.  You're a majestic in ways I cannot express and the beauty You give us is humbling.  Reflect holiness in my life, God.  I love You, I love You, I love You."  

When I picture her now, I see her dancing on those long legs that she has once again.  Smiling.  Pain free.  Redeemed.

Letting go...(a little)

     I'm a self professed control freak when it comes to my kids' doctor appointments.  However, taking the first six weeks of the school year off, and missing every time one of my three kids has been sick has taken a toll on my leave days (meaning I only have a few and that is after some very generous friends donated me some of theirs).  So, for the first time ever, I will be sending the twins to a "well baby" check up with someone else.  Granted, my mother is the one taking them, and I know she will ask any questions I give her (I hope the doctor doesn't see my mom and think he's getting out of anything).  If it can't be me (or Dean of course) to take them, I'm glad it's her, because I'm a lot like her in my tendency to ask too many questions out of a fear of not asking enough.  It still makes me sad though.  I know Tank will get his feelings her when the smiling nurse gives him a shot, and Tinker Belle will be devastated by the pain and cry on and off for a few minutes.  I know that the appointment falls right before nap time and that the trip over will make them fall asleep and get them off schedule.  I wish I were going, and honestly, I'm not completely convinced I won't change my mind and do so.  More than anything, though, I think this is a test for me.  Am I capable of letting go of that control?  I'll wait until after the appointment to finish this post...
     Well, I did in fact let my mom and my sister in law take the twins to their check up.  You know what?  The world didn't end, and I don't feel horribly judged by anyone.  Luckily, they didn't get shots this time.  Tinker Belle is still measuring tiny, and Tank is still measuring pretty big.  My mother asked plenty of questions, and they didn't wreck just because I wasn't in the car.  In truth, this was one of the least stressful appointments for the twins.  Even though I packed the diaper bag and laid out their clothes, it seemed like a lot less work to prepare for the visit.  This may be because they are getting older, I'm getting better at packing up their stuff, or (oh, yeah) the fact that I didn't actually have to get them dressed (smiles).  It all worked out fine in the end.  I don't know if I secretly think there's an award in a doctor's office for the mother who accompanies her children to every  appointment, or if I just want them to know that I am the mom (which equals the most important person in each child's life and therefore you must respect me....).  I truly don't know what drives me to be the one there asking a huge list of mostly ridiculous questions.  It was good for me though to send them with my mom and sis in law.  I learned that something like that can be let go, and I'm the same mother I was before.
     For those of you who understand my sick obsession, here's my prayer for us:  "Father, help me to always remember that You are all I need, and whether I am reading to accept it or not, You are all my children need as well.  Help me to realize that it is okay to let others help me with my children.  Thank You for people who want to do so.  Thank You for surrounding my family with others who love us sincerely.  Help me to let go of things that are not important.  Help me to let go of my mommy ego.  I will praise You forever."

Shoulder talking

     You know how on old cartoons a character's conscience was portrayed by two little versions of them on their shoulders fighting back and forth?  Well, I've had some interesting arguments from other people in my world lately that reminded me of just that.  There have been a few angels, and as is usually the case, there have been a few devils as well.  I'm not literally calling anyone an angel or a devil, but I think you get the idea.
    Here's my story:
     *enter devil on shoulder*I ran into a lady the other day who I used to know.  She inquired about my family's well being, admired my children individually, and proceeded to tell me she "just couldn't believe (I) went back to work after having (my) twins and that she just couldn't bare the thought of it.  She didn't know how I did it.  Who kept them all every day anyway? etc. etc. etc."  You'd be proud of me.  I didn't get defensive at all, and honestly, I just didn't answer some of the questions she asked.  I do not hide the fact that I work mainly because I need to do so financially, but I don't know that the reason has all that much to do with having children.  I most definitely would have quit working permanently when I had my children if that were an option, but I cannot guarantee I would be any less crazy.  Honestly, I'd probably be even more crazy than I am now if I were a stay at home mom.  I love the idea of it, but it's a life that is stressful in a way I can't explain to those who have never experienced it.  Anyway, I didn't feel the need to tell her why I went back to work, which is largely due to the fact that I enjoy being able to have things such as electricity and food without struggling horrifically to do so.  I simply explained the sitter arrangement, said yes, I did in fact go to work again, and dismissed myself.  I was pretty proud though.  I know good and well that God must have shut down part of my brain so that I didn't make a scene in the line of a public establishment, but I patted myself on the back a little mentally, too.  I had at least let God take control of the situation, and he did a great job of keeping my mouth in check.  I refused to defend myself to someone who did not understand my choices.  As a mother, it is very difficult not to defend my choices.  I strive to make the best "mommy" decisions I can, and the fact that I'm personally torn about the idea myself makes me even more insecure and defensive about it.  Life went on.  I shook my head at the situation, refused to obsess over whether any meanness was intended, held my head up high, and enjoyed being with my kids that day.
     *enter angel on shoulder*I ran into a former acquaintance from high school who I stay in touch with on face book at an egg hunt in my home town.  She complimented my post baby physique and told me she admired me for being able to "do it all", which I think all you ladies can understand as a mommy compliment.  She made me feel like all the hard work I do is appreciated, though unseen, because she knows what being a mother consists of and can do the general math of adding two little babies to a family of three.  I accepted her compliments as best as I could.  I think most people now are bad at being complimented.  I am pretty convinced that I do not do the mommy thing all that flawlessly, and feel the need to point out all my flaws when complimented.  She will never know how much she encouraged me.
     *enter devil on shoulder* I ran into another lady I used to know from the same place as the first lady (weird all the people I'm running into lately, huh?) on the same day that I ran into the angel.  She, as a new grandmother, inquired about my children enough to solicit an inquiry about her new grandchild (I would've asked anyway).  The conversation (in the middle of the grocery store) led on and on and eventually landed on the topic of if I had gone back to work.  I replied that yes I had, and she seemed very shocked at the answer.  "How do you do it?!?" asked she.  "I don't know.  I just do." I replied.  She goes on, "Well who keeps your kids?"  I answered with the list of those who keep them.  (In case I have never actually explained this, here it goes.  My mother keeps my children one day a week, my godmother keeps them two days a week, and my in laws keep them two days a week.  We try to keep the days consistent for the ease of all involved, but we are all really good at working together to make sure everyone is organized and doesn't miss an appointment or anything, so the organization of it all can be stressful at times.  They all come to my house to keep my children, which is good for my children since they are in their own homes. It is also good for the sitters since everything they need is at hand.)  I didn't explain to this lady that my sitters all came to my house simply because I didn't think to do so.  She responded, "Well, I am the only one who keeps my grandchild because WE don't want HIM to be passed around too much to EVERYONE and get off schedule."   I smiled blankly...."Well, ahem, I can understand that.  That is exactly the reason why all of MY sitters VOLUNTEERED to come to MY house to keep them in THEIR environment."  I'm not proud of the crack in my confidence here that caused me to feel the need to defend myself, and I have since repented of it.  I couldn't help myself though, in that moment of flesh, because in my mind, she was attacking the fact that I have several different people keep my children rather than just one person.  Everyone who keeps my children loves them unconditionally.  I know that my children have their needs met, are hugged and kissed, and are spending time with someone who will be important in their lives.  I consider my baby sitter situation to be one of best biggest blessings from God at this moment in my life.  Therefore, I defended the situation.  I shouldn't have; I know that now.  God tells us that he is our defender, and who am I to think I could just in and handle the thing?  I'm sorry I let you all down.  I feel like I should have held my head up, known that I was doing the best I can in life and right with God in the decisions I made.
     I have several angels on my shoulder in life.  Sissy is naturally an encourager, my mom is my biggest fan, and all the friends I have close to me are the kind to not only let you know everything is okay but change a diaper while they are doing it.  I also have you ladies who encourage me either on here, through email, or on my face book.  I'm especially thankful for S. Paul and her sister C. Burgan who are my mommy blog cheerleaders.  They really help me keep this going through encouragement.  Funny though, the devils on my shoulder leave me shaken, and Satan certainly knows when to send them my way.  Pray for me ladies, and I'll pray for you.
Here is my prayer:  "Thank you, God, for being our defender.  Thank You for encouraging us in our spirits as well as through Godly people you send our way, and sweet strangers who pass through our lives.  Help us to keep in mind that no decision we make will be approved of by everyone, and that we are not here to make the world happy, but to glorify You.  Help us to keep Your glory our focus in life.  Help us to love our children like we should, and help us to love both the angels and the devils that perch on our shoulders.  We praise You."

I like to move it, move it....

     I went to Zumba today, and I loved it!  I loved how it was like dancing (I like to move it, move it) and working out at the same time.  I loved that I felt energetic and tired at the same time.  I loved that it was just for me.  However, I came home feeling really guilty about it.  I had a great time, burnt some calories, and relieved some work week stress.  However, I hated that I had to shuffle the kids' schedule around even more because of it, hated that it made Dean have to stay out later doing farm and yard work, and hated that it put me behind schedule with house work (not that I do too much each day).  I felt so good to be exercising, and for the first time in my life, I feel like my desire to exercise is for the right reason.  Why then, can't I enjoy it? 
     I have already admitted on here that my history with body image is pretty sketchy.  I have always just looked at exercise as a way to make me skinny/skinnier.  I never cared at all about the health benefits of it.  However, whether it be due to having kids or just getting older, I now look at it as a way to make me healthier.  Don't get me wrong though, I'm still hoping it will make me skinny (without having to give up cookies and such).
     I work full time and then come home to my kids.  I try to make sure I spend time with them AND do as much house work as possible so it isn't too backed up on the weekend.  However, I have let other things, like exercise, go.  I feel too guilty about spending that extra time away from my kids. (I mean, who needs to be healthy for those kids, right?)  I've been trying to figure out how to work in exercise without being away from my kids any longer by:
1.  only exercising when they are all asleep (at 9 or 10 pm or 5 am)=fail. 
2.  only exercising when I'm off work (one day a week doesn't do too much for me) = half-hearted fail
3. Taking them with me (complete waste of time, but I did burn a lot of calories just getting them
     all there and back).=major fail
4. Doing an exercise video at home. (Having an audience of 4, even if 2 are babies, just didn't work
     for me.) =self-conscious fail.

     In the end, I've decided (just today actually) that I'm going to seek God about it.  If my body is a temple, then it belongs to and should bring glory to God.  I have prepared my heart for exercise (given my past of unhealthy body image) as something meant to keep me healthy, not make me beautiful or skinny.  It doesn't do me any good to skip something like that for the sake of my children when I know that exercise will help me be healthier for more years and make me feel better in the mean time. 
     I can't promise that I will work out as regularly as  recommended or that I'll run some marathon (or at all for that matter), but I will be actively trying to make myself healthier through exercise.  Hopefully some of you other moms who tend to feel guilty about taking care of yourselves will do so also.  Good luck to us all!!