The Devil Read my Blog

Just one week ago, I posted about the reasons I shouldn't be homeschooling.  It was tongue-in-cheek, of course, because that's what I do.  I know that God called me home.  That is without question.  And because of that, I believe that this week, Satan has been working overtime here at the Sheppard residence.

There have been tantrums, fits of rage, screaming matches, tears, and bad attitudes abounding.  And the kids haven't been perfect either.  *snicker*  Sad but true.

What's interesting is that I can't put my finger on any one event and say, "Man, when [unspecified event] happened, that really made the rest of the week go downhill."  It wasn't like that.  It's just been one of those weeks where we simply didn't have a single perfect day.  Each day, there was someone or a few someones who simply dug their heels in and said, "No."  Each day, there was someone who woke up on the wrong side of the bed and stayed there until they crawled back in the wrong side of the bed that evening.  Each day, there was a defeatist attitude.  There was sloth.  There were feelings of entitlement.

It's almost as if the children collaborated after Sam and I were asleep one night.  Maybe Sarah was at the head of the table organizing the thing.  "Alright, Ben.  Tomorrow, it's your turn to get angry because you don't feel like doing math.  Abby, you scream that you hate reading on Tuesday.  I'll keep up my daily refusal to nap.  And let's see if we can get Leah to cry at random all day long for at least one day.  Also up for grabs are complaining that "it's too hard" and "I can't do it", whining about the food, being lazy, and leaving random deposits of toys and/or shoes all over the house." 

It's not like anyone hit me over the head with a 2x4, but my spirit feels like it.  Oh wait, actually, we did experience that this week - only it was Sarah.  She got hit in the head with a 2x6 wooden swing on the playground last weekend.  Five days later and she's healing up nicely...even though with head knocks of that caliber it means she actually starts to look worse as it gets better.

Interestingly, that was a non-issue compared to the attitudes we had going on.  She was back to her normal shenanigans within a couple of hours.  Here's hoping she at least learned not to walk in front of swings again.

Anyway...

Satan will use what he can, whether subtle or blatantly obvious, to cause division, dissension, and strife.  This might be on a small scale between a mother and her kids or between young siblings.  It might be on a national level between gun control lobbyists and second amendment activists.  No matter where the conflict is, one thing is certain, it's caused by the enemy of God.  And he is utterly delighted in his work today.

As I've tended to my kids this week, I have cried many tears over their poor attitudes, anguished over the lack of wisdom in their choices, and grieved their deliberate disobedience.  I've wondered, "Why oh why won't they just do the right thing and follow my instructions?!"

Then it hit me - not unlike that 2x6 - this is how God feels about me.  These kids definitely learned their behaviors from someone.  Boom.  And what I really need to do is listen to the wisdom and counsel of my Father.

I've said it before and I'm grateful for it all of my days, thank God his mercies are new every morning. 

My prayer for tomorrow and going into next week -

Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me. ~Psalms 51:10

Because I don't want to be a complete downer - here are some of the highlights from our past few days.  There is joy and love and there are blessings all around us!  All I have to do is get over myself and, yup, there they are!

While cleaning out the kids rooms this weekend we stumbled upon no less than 3 magnifying glasses.  They proved to be great fun...

(Whoa, that one is especially scary.)

I watched as my girls thought outside the box, again, and turned their Geoboards into a "laptop computer."

 

We took advantage of the unseasonably warm January temperatures and played outside like whoa.

I watched a head-wounded Sarah return to the scene of her first head-wound and sit unsuspectingly as Abby prepared to dump a wheelbarrowful of mud and weeds on her head.  

 

I watched as these crazy, dress-wearing girls jumped without inhibition off the playground.

 

I spotted two longish hairs on Leah's head in the sunlight.  Make the picture bigger.  I promise they're there somewhere.

We blew dandelion seeds all over the backyard.

We had a picnic...and took a walk...all together.  As a family.

 

The girls stole picked Camellias and put them in their hair then insisted we call them "The Rose Girls."

 

We relished in barefoot time in January.  (Really, it was 75 degrees.)

 Abby made a real-life pictograph out of our shoes, categorized by color.  But we had to do it fast because goat-girl Leah wanted to eat the shoes. (What about that one undeniably black shoe next to the two glittery pink ones, you ask?  Abby called it pink because the interior was pinkish.  I couldn't argue with that.)

Tonight, at Bible time, my sweet, hesitant, somewhat-reluctant reader independently read four verses to us.  And the beaming pride on her face made this weeks worth of stress melt away as if it never existed. 

And that too is a glimpse into what it's like to be God and see his childrens' sins washed white as snow.

Goodnight, everyone.  God Bless!

Incremental Living

Such is life with a newborn.  With the first three kids, it felt like the newborn stage was a series of 2-3 hour increments.  I lived from feeding to feeding.  Sometimes I was able to finish a task in between, but usually not.  It's amazing how much longer things take to accomplish in this stage of life.  Loading and unloading the dishwasher?  At least a couple of hours.  Washing a load of clothes?  After you consider having to re-wash them because you forgot about them sitting in there, well, it's a minimum of double the time it would have been.  Taking a shower?  Though it remains at the top of your priority list (even a quick 5-minute rinse off would suffice), it seems to be one of the last tasks that gets checked off, and even then, you usually have a two-year-old stripping their clothes off moments after you jump in because they "want a shower too."  

It sounds like I'm complaining.  I'm not.  This is just how life goes with a newborn.

I wrote several weeks ago now (man, time flies) about how I wasn't nervous about the changes that #4 would bring.  I'm still not.  She's just...a part of the family.  We know how this newborn thing goes.  But the thing that I didn't expect is that instead of 2-3 hour increments, life is a series of 5-10 minute increments.  It's the amount of time Leah sleeps consecutively without being poked or prodded or bumped by a big sibling.  It's the amount of time she goes before she thinks she's hungry again.  It's the amount of time Sarah takes to find something mischievous to get into while I'm changing a stinky diaper.  It's the length of time before a deafening crash comes from another room while I'm nursing.  It's the amount of time Leah is in her swing, sleeping soundly, before one of her big sisters thinks they need to turn the music on with it at an ear-piercing decibel level (seriously - why does it even go that loud?). 

I'm not one to tip-toe around a newborn.  This is life at our house.  But it would be nice to up life to 30-minute increments.  Shoot, even this very short blog post is going to take hours.  I can feel it. 

In the interest of brevity (and accommodating my own spurts of living), here are some photos from the past couple of weeks.  Just so you know we're all still out here...being crazy, loving on each other, and trying against all odds to get some sleep while we can.

Because she wasn't sleeping peacefully enough, someone (cough, Abby) decided Leah needed a little decoration whilst she was swinging.  

Since Daddy's off work, Sarah got to take a nap one day in our bed.  Look at that little foot up in the air.  She was konked out!

Wide awake and looking for food, no doubt.

Apparently, Leah doesn't like being amongst the animals in Abby's bed.

Playing on the new bunk beds...I owe you a whole post on these things, for sure!

 

Our sleeping princess.  (Even if she has a little bit of a furrowed brow in her sleep.  She gets her facial expressions from her mother.  True story.)

For now, I'm off to find another 5-10 minute task - which may or may not include parking it in front of the television with a cup of coffee.  

I'll never tell... 

P.S. - The irony of it all is that now that I have "no time" to blog, I have all sorts of ideas of things about which to write.  I'll just start a list.  Wouldn't want to deprive anyone of these compelling blog posts.  Until then, have fun on the edge of your seat.  (wink, wink)

Somebody's Prayin'

On Wednesday nights, for the past year, our pastor has been plugging away teaching through the Bible - we've gotten to Genesis 18.  It's pretty in depth, in case that's not obvious.  Last Wednesday, we had a sermon on intercessory prayer based on Abraham's conversation with God where he pled for the lives of any righteous people living in Sodom and Gomorrah.

Intercessory prayer is a huge deal in the life of Christians and should be a huge deal in the life of the Church.  I think what got to me most was the prayer at the end.  Our talented and tenderhearted pastor sang this song, acapella, during the prayer:

Earlier last week, I came face to face with a monumental life decision.  I haven't had to make it yet, and I'm still in the process of...well...processing it.  Let's just say, before I went to last Wednesday night's service, I felt my heart changing in a big way on something that all of my life I've been dead-set against.  After Wednesday night's service, I came to understand...

Someone's been praying for me.  I can feel it.

Now I've become one of those people who posts a vague status update on Facebook blog post and expects no one to ask me questions. 

I'm sorry about that.  I'm just not ready.  But I will solicit some more prayers, if you can find time to pray for little big ol' [pregnant] me and my big ol' decision.

Still I went on 'cause there was someone
Who was down on their knees
And Lord. I thank you for those people
Prayin' all this time for me.

I suspect one day, in the not-too-distant future, I'll have a testimony similar to Paul's.  I was once a persecutor, only to become persecuted.  At least, this is my hope.  God is making the way.  I think He loves making transformations just like that.  Expect the unexpected.  He's keeping us on our toes.

Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass … Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him. ~Psalm 37:4,7

I'm Skilled in the Art of Eating Crow

Of all of the contemptible traits I see in other people, arrogance ranks among the highest, in my opinion.  I've always secretly delighted in seeing prideful people get a big dose of humility.  That's wrong, isn't it?  (Yes.)  As I get older, and allegedly wiser, something has occurred to me...

I'm one of them.

I've tried compensating for my pride with overt self-deprecation.  That doesn't work.  I've channeled my energies into finding things about which I should and can feel insecure, but deep within me, there's just a big belly (literally) full of self-righteousness.  It's a self-love that's the exact polar opposite of humility.  It's the belief that I have anything to do with my successes at all in the first place.  (Wrong.)

On thinking back to my high school, teenaged, naive self, I remember a ridiculous air of haughtiness and the presence of an outward holier-than-thou syndrome.  Over time, I learned to temper the forthrightness, and I feel that I've been moderately successful in developing some tact.  Tact is important to me.

Tact is the art of making a point without making an enemy. ~Howard Newton

That aside, as I've grown older, I've also learned that life is one big lesson in humility.  I have been "100% sure" about a lot of things, only to eat crow later in life.  And not necessarily even a lot later.  I've scoffed at a lot of things that now apply to myself - like having a large family, breastfeeding, being a stay-at-home mom, making your own baby food, "wasting" one's college education, using Pilates and Yoga as a legitimate workout, and the list goes on...

I am confident that 2012 will afford me some more opportunities to Eat Crow.  Maybe even a big, fat, in-your-face opportunity that's on my heart at this moment.  This year, though, I'm going to do it with grace and humility.  I will accept that I was wrong, and move on.  I will not label myself "hypocrite".  I hope others will follow suit.  I don't like being called names.  Not by myself or anyone else.
 
In light of the sermon on Wednesday night by our teaching pastor, I will welcome these obstacles as an opportunity for God to move.

All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because, "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble." ~1 Peter 5:5

And piggybacking on teen-sensation, Justin Bieber's hit movie/song:

I will never say never.

Scatterbrained Sunday

I don't even know if that counts as alliteration because the beginning sounds are different, but let's just go with it anyway.  I'm on day 27 of 30, and I'm just doing what I can to finish!  (That's quitter-talk, isn't it?)

We had a great Black Friday experience, a less than great Saturday experience thanks to, most likely, messed up sleeping & eating habits and a combination of hormonal reactions on my part.  That's life.  Sunday has been a mixture of all of those things wrapped up together.  After church and lunch, we've spent the better part of the day decorating for Christmas.  Without sounding too grumpy, it's just kind of hard to get in the mood when it's in the 70's and we're wearing shorts and t-shirts.  On the other hand, it was a beautiful day!

A focal passage from our Sunday School lesson this morning has been playing over and over in my head throughout the day:

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. ~Philippians 4:11-13

I'm going tell you, folks, I'm in a season of plenty.  And I can tell you this, too, contentment is not always easy!

Here comes the scatterbrained part:

For those of you long-distance friends who've been asking - here's a belly picture at 25.5 weeks.  Maybe those cashiers were justified in their horror.  Either way, I show you this not because I want to show off my hot pregnancy bod (HAHAHAH!) or because I want you to notice that my belly looks like it is giving birth to my belly button or because I am succumbing to peer pressure (okay, it's that one slightly), it's because at this point with Sarah and the others I'd taken lots of belly shots for posterity.  This time, notta one.  Poor 4th child!

And to the random man in the hallways at church this morning who told me I looked great and I was beautiful - thank you.  I ordinarily don't take compliments well, but today I needed one.

The rest of the night we'll be decorating this tree - which has remained lit, but naked all day waiting for little girls to wake up from their naps and kids to return home from choir.

Plus there's this stuff just begging to be littered throughout the house with Christmas cheer...

Don't you just LOVE this season!!!??  It's truly the most wonderful time of the year!

(And just for a giggle, I got a huge chuckle as I hummed this tune to myself over the Thanksgiving break.  I finally understand the part of the song where it says, "And Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again!"  wink, wink)

Happy Sunday, all!

Flashback Friday: The difference a year can make

My biggest fear when I lost my job was that unemployment would turn me lazy.  A year later, that's still my fear.  Especially, as I was looking over my photos from last November and December and I cannot believe all the things I/we did.  Last year, I was in stay-busy-for-survival mode.  It was how I distracted myself from losing my job.  A daily, overloaded to-do list was how I tallied my worth...even when I only completed 25% of the list.  A year ago, I had two little girls at home with me, running circles around me while I organized junk drawer after junk drawer, closet after closet, pantry after pantry.  A year later, there's just one little girl, the drawers are back to being junky, the closets messy, and the pantries not so organized.  There's a voice in the back of my mind going, "Yup, you've turned lazy."

Well, a year ago, I wasn't growing a human.  I should cut myself some slack based on this, but I keep thinking, "With all three of my other pregnancies, I was either in school, working, or both, and I didn't have the choice to be lazy."  Maybe lazy isn't the right word - maybe it's just succumbing to nature.  It's giving in to the naps when I have a chance.  It's getting out of the house for a change of scenery instead of pouring myself into some sort of chore.  It's sitting on the couch with a hot tea and Sarah, watching and singing along with Sesame Street or Bubble Guppies, just because I can.

Well I've done the "succumbing" thing for long enough.  While I still have a few weeks left in my second trimester, I'm going to kick it up a notch.  I'm going to take on some projects, have some holiday fun, make some crafts, bake a lot of goodies, and maybe just maybe I'll even do a little exercising.  I have a lot to live up to from last year:

 

I'm totally getting the list paper out.  But this year, it's not to distract me from depression or so I can feel worthwhile.  This year, it's because I want to.  Bring it, holiday season.  This year, I'm going to enjoy you to the fullest!

Probably Melodrama.

For the past two years, back to school was just that - back to school. There were no accompanying emotions or dropoffs that could only possibly be completed with sunglasses on to hide the tears.  Ben is entering 2nd grade this year, so he's an old pro at it.  This will be his fourth year at the school.  Three years ago, he was exactly where his little sister is right now - entering Pre-K.

For most school systems around the country, the emotion comes when you send your child to kindergarten.  It's the first time, typically, that the child is away from home or in a formal school setting (other than daycare) for the entire day.  Here, though, a lucky number of lottery-winners get to send their kids to Pre-K, which is all day, at the same school, with the same general schedule and format as the older grades.  Thus, diminishing the magnitude of kindergarten and heightening the enormity that is Pre-K.

Not everyone chooses to put their child on the lottery list.  Some parents choose to keep their kids in private Pre-K programs, or at home with them, or in a daycare setting.  For us, it was a no-brainer.  Ben thrived in the same Pre-K program as one of the oldest in his class (missing being in the grade above by just 5 days).  Abby is essentially in the same spot, missing the cutoff by only one month.

This is all more than I'm sure you cared to know.

The thing is - when I dropped Ben off that first week of Pre-K, I was a hot mess.  Makeup everywhere.  Wearing sunglasses to hide it all, even though I'm sure I looked like a fool with them on inside the not-necessarily-brightly-lit primary school.  I ate breakfast with him all week in the cafeteria to make sure he'd know how to open his milk carton, and that he'd know what to do when he finished eating, and that he wouldn't get lost heading back to his classroom afterward.  The entire situation was an unknown for both of us.  I was ten times more terrified than he was.  I tried to be brave for his sake, but I'm pretty sure I failed miserably at it.  Ben was our first (duh).  So, he was probably a little too babied.  He wasn't as independent as he could have been.  But I quickly found out, he could and would do just fine better than fine without me.

Now, I'm facing the same situation with my precious Abby.  She, however, has been independent since birth.  She has always marched to the beat of her very own drummer.  As structured and orderly as Ben is, that's how whimsical and carefree Abby is.  She has been grinning ear to ear since she found out she was going to be going to the same school as Ben.  Every morning for the past week she has woken up disappointed because she had to wait four, then three, then two, then just one more day to go to school.  At bedtime tonight, she practically sprinted to her bed and forced those big blue eyes shut because she wants morning to be here so badly.  "Don't forget to wake me up for school, Mommy," she told me before I left her room.

I couldn't possibly.

Maybe it's pregnancy hormones, or the fact that Sam left this afternoon for a TDY in Austin, or because it's normal to get emotional about these things, but dangit, it all came crashing down tonight.

Abby's not going to be here with us tomorrow.

I am going to miss that little imp.

I pray that school is everything her wild imagination has filled her brain with, that she wakes up every morning so excited to go to school, that she will find life-long friends, and learn invaluable lessons - not just of the academic variety.

But, above all, I just want her to stay....Abby. 

While Sarah and I figure out what it's like to share each other's company one-on-one all day, my two older kids will be off filling their brains with knowledge, learning common sense, and making friends.  That sounds wonderful, doesn't it?  Yes.  I'll try not to feel so sad about it then.

And I'll try not to think about not having Abby around all day to teach Sarah all of the necessary big sister stuff...like how to make silly faces and where to find the bananas under the flaps of her Little People book.

And I'll put it in the back of my mind how Abby won't be here to hug baby sister's guts out even while she's wearing a Styrofoam bathing suit or to share a snack with her over some blocks and serious conversation.

In the meantime, I'll have to teach Sarah a thing or two about how to cheese for the camera like her beautiful big sis, because I feel some photo ops coming up with little girl #2.

More than anything, I will remember how blessed I am to have had the wonderful opportunity to be at home with these two sisters who, without question, have gone from bickering little girls to best friends over the past nine months.  And to think, I was ever upset about losing that silly old job...

I know you're just going to Pre-K, Abby, but, man, I'm going to miss you.