A Great Weekend is Like a Breath of Fresh Air

My husband and I have had the best weekend.

Our 17 year-old-soon-to-be-18-year-old son asked if we would like to go with him and his girlfriend to see Winter’s Tale for Valentine’s Day. Of course, he doesn’t have a car and can’t drive… But we, of course, said yes. And his 19 year-old brother and his girlfriend went, too.

We had a wonderful time hanging out with these young men and their dates. 

 

We went to the early movie, and Jonah mentioned that Quik Trip would be a good place to get something to eat. So, there you go. Meanwhile, I was sitting in the Flex watching a full orange/red moon come up while Jim was putting the gas in.

 

The kids were like, "Ah, another picture????"

 

 (And the movie was fantastic, so go see it!)

 

My boys weren’t embarrassed to spend the night with their parents. And neither were their girls.

Isn’t that great?

We didn’t even get home until after midnight. Mom and Dad were a little exhausted, but it was definitely worth it.

Yesterday, we went to lunch with our friends. They only live an hour away, so we try to meet in the middle. Unfortunately, it’s been over a year since we’ve actually gone to lunch or dinner together! Time goes by in the blink of an eye, and that’s the only excuse I have.

Last night, Jim and I went to see Ragamuffin – The Rich Mullins film. It was very thought-provoking, and I would highly recommend it to anyone who has heard of him or listened to any of Rich Mullins’ music. I don’t want to spoil it for anyone, but there are some elements that will pierce your soul (if you have one!).

I’ve had my share of rotten Valentine’s Days, but this one was very nice.

The Excitement of Learning

I was chosen to be on the launch team for Jill Savage and Kathy Koch’s new book, “No More Perfect Kids.” While reading the review copy, it didn’t take long for me to be struck by something very important.

They’re writing about not expecting perfection when children are learning.

“We know error-free walking is the goal. Perfection can’t be the journey.”

Jill and Kathy write that we brag about our babies when they’re learning to walk, and we don’t expect them to walk perfectly the first time.

The question is in my mind then… Why do we expect them to make good decisions when they’ve never made these types of decisions before?

Learning is just part of the gig.

And we, as parents, should really pray for wisdom. The great thing is God will give it to us if we ask.

“If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do.” (James 1:5-8 NIV)

And this is true for our kids, too. If they ask God for wisdom in their decisions, He will also grant it to them.

It’s just tough when our kids don’t ask Him.

So, we continue on our journey with accepting our kids for who they are because the same God who made me and you made them.

And He makes no mistakes.

They Chose Me!

I made it! I was chosen!

As you might remember, I was on the launch team for Jill Savage’s book, No More Perfect Moms. I have also been chosen for the launch team for her new book, written with Kathy Koch, No More Perfect Kids!

I can’t even tell you how excited I am about this. It’s great to be in a community with other parents.

I will be blogging my way through the book with my first entry very soon.

Watch for it!

What Day is It, Anyway?

We’re meeting ourselves coming and going.

Right now, I’m so tired, and I just want to go to bed.

It’s only 7:54 p.m.

I’m finding myself worn out, tired, exhausted.

Mentally.

Physically.

Emotionally.

I haven’t forgotten about writing, but I haven’t done it, either. It seems that I’m more worn out than usual, and I haven’t taken the time to sit down and write about my life.

I will say this, though.

It’s tough when you receive bad news regarding the health of your parents. And it’s even harder when it’s not-so-good news about more than one of your parents. And when your kids struggle, it adds to the mix.

And there’s other reasons I’m feeling defeated, but I’m not going to let those out just yet.

Let’s just say that this week, I’m going to be singing, “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus love and righteousness…” (I know it’s "Jesus blood and righteousness," but for this week, it’s His love.)

So if you think about me, please pray for my family, especially my extended family. I know God hears those prayers, and I appreciate you holding us up.

January 12th, 1995 - The Day I Became a Mommy

 

He arrived on January 12^th, 1995, a spring-like day in Oklahoma.

I felt that I had been waiting for him all my life. It was a miracle that he was even born to me. Especially after all I had been through.

Starting my “womanly” journey at age 11, I had terrible cramping and other gross things happen that I won’t bore (or disgust) you with. No medication, no matter the type or how much I took, helped. When I was an older teen, I finally was able to take Naproxen (then called Anaprox) during that time of the month. It helped, but it was still miserable.

Jim and I were married in 1991, and in 1993, I was diagnosed with Endometriosis. I opted for laser surgery and Lupron treatments for 6 months, and there still was no guarantee I would ever be able to conceive.

All I ever wanted was to be a wife and mother, and there was a possibility it would never happen….

And there I was, holding this little baby who was actually mine!

My doctor sent me to the hospital directly after my weekly appointment on January 11^th. My blood pressure was high, and it was the day before my due date. I also had a very bad upper respiratory infection that had me coughing. The time had finally come to see this little baby boy face-to-face.

I called my parents to let them know. Mom, Dad, my sister and brother-in-law, and my brother all headed to our city for the birth of my son; their first grandchild, their first nephew.

Even though I was prepped that night, nothing was going on. My family sat and talked while I reclined in the bed I would “sleep” in for three nights. (Yeah, sleep, right!)

Of course, having an idealistic view, I thought I was trying to have my first baby with no epidural. I have Scoliosis, too, so I was fearful about what might happen with my back if I did it. While Jim slept in the cot in my room, and my mother and sister tried to sleep in the waiting room, I sat in bed thinking about the next day and meeting my son for the first time. I couldn’t sleep at all. Dad, Darrin and Kendall went to our house for the night to sleep.

In the wee hours of the morning, I spoke to the anesthesiologist about an epidural and decided I was going to get one.

They started Pitocin at 6:00am.

At 9:00am, my doctor broke my water.

The contractions were coming faster and faster, and I was not progressing. The word “misery” doesn’t even begin to describe what I felt. I had a little meltdown around noon when my family was in the corner discussing where they were going for lunch. I called Jim over to me, grabbed his shirt, and hissed, “Tell them to get out!” Jim turned around and said, “You’ll have to leave now.”

Finally, at 3:30pm, I received my epidural, and things got much better. However, I did try to sweet talk Stan, “the drug man,” to give me more meds. He listened to me, which was all I really wanted. At least, I think.

At 6:30, it was time to start pushing that baby out!

Everyone got situated, and my sister got the camera set up.

But he wasn’t coming quickly. It took me pushing for 2-1/2 hours straight for that baby to be born. And when he did, I cried. So did my family. And so did that little naked baby.

He was finally here! All 8 pounds 7 ounces of him. All 22 inches of him. He had beautiful hair, beautiful hands, beautiful feet, and beautiful eyes. He just was beautiful! (Even though he had a large swollen area on his head from the tool they used to move him along.)

And I know it sounds crazy, but I know in my heart that the breath of God hovered in my room while my son was born that night. 8:51pm. 

I felt Him there all day. He’s been watching out for me my whole life.

I truly believe the Endometriosis was a blessing in disguise. I’m glad I never had any children with my first husband who was abusive. I would have been tied to him forever, and I’m grateful I’m not.

I cherish all my memories about the days my kids were born. Even the painful times when I wondered if it was going to be okay. 

I can’t believe we’ve been parents for 19 years now.

What a great blessing.

Oh, and my sister, who had battled Endometriosis for years, too, had her first son six months after Noah was born.

 

What a great life.