Friday, February 10, 2012

10 on 10 :: February

Ten pictures in ten hours on the tenth of the month trying
 to capture the beauty in the ordinary moments of the day. 












I understand that the purpose of this is to find beauty in piece-of-crap ordinary days... but the fact that they are all out of order, and one will not rotate correctly, can just be an indication of my day.

I swear yesterday was good...  of course I didn't blog it.

And 90% of my days are wonderful.
They really are.

 
But today Beckham cried all day.

He stayed attached to my leg as I cleaned... and pulled the laptop (Lance's laptop) off the table, breaking the side of it and ruining the power cord.

I called that man that I married a few years back on attack mode, because I felt it was better to beat him to the punch than to face that look that he gives me when I touch anything worth more than a dollar.

Maddox did one of his signature jump moves and slammed his head into the wood floor, thus turning himself into a unicorn and spilling buckets of tears.  He also wrecked every inch of my clean house, but I persevered and cleaned again.
And again.
And again.

I made (and cleaned up) 2 separate breakfasts and 3 separate lunches.
accomplished baths...
and five loads of laundry.
{washed, dried and put away.}

I cooked diner... while on call, and while the 3 men in my life slept.
(during this time, I turned off the tv and listened to silence-- the best part of my day) 

I visited with my parents, who dropped by for a few minutes...
Offered advice, encouragement and listened to countless mom's with sick kids.
Re-cleaned.
Watched a little tv.

And now blogged at 1:00am.

Today wasn't beautiful.

But tomorrow will be.
I know it.

And if it isn't... I promise not to blog about it.
I know it is getting old!

I hope your day was wonderful.
Or at least better than mine!

{I am finally off to bed!}


 

Monday, February 6, 2012

In case you feel the same way...

We were so busy last week with the museum on Wednesday, Stock Show on Thursday, spending the night at my mom's on Friday, work Saturday morning, as well as church and dinner with friends that evening.
Yesterday was the Super Bowl, and dinner at my mom's....
I am out of groceries...
My kids both have colds.
Beckham is teething and has learned to say "uh-oh" which is an appropriate description for his mood.
Maddox is naked right now... because I don't want to risk waking sir-cries-a-lot, to get him dressed, and I am trying with all I have to not repeat the day with him today, that we had yesterday.

We have had a couple of rough days, to say the least...
Where everyone's crying....

Including me.

My husband has been far from encouraging...
and I think that is the hardest part.

I know that every mom reading this knows what I am talking about....

It is probably like #2 on our job description....
Keep everyone else going.

But sometimes, wouldn't it be nice for someone to first notice that things are hard, before you have to plead your case tell them, and secondly, offer support without advice or criticism?


Motherhood is hard work.
So is marriage.

Lance and I were up until midnight, "talking".
I slept so far on the edge of the bed, it was more accurate to say I slept on the nightstand.

Let's not pretend like he noticed though, as soon as he was layed back against the pillow, he was snoring.
I stayed awake a bit longer....
Plotting my revenge.  thinking.

Finally asleep, I dreamed I was giving marital advice to some of our friends who are splitting up right now, telling them that marriage is work but worth the fight and explaining all of the great things about being married.

God's a funny guy, I think.

But awake again,
I'm not over it.
 
Any of it.

While scrubbing counter tops, with a scowl on my face, I stopped and checked my email.
Because I know many of you have had the same type days as myself, I thought I would share my email.

It sure made me feel better.
And maybe it will be helpful to you as well.

I am sending this to my 2 favorite moms: one who constantly inspires me with her blog and the other who is my guardian angel, always sending me texts at the exact moment I start my pity parties.  I want you to know that you ladies are amazing mothers and I immediately thought of you both when I read this story.  Keep up the amazing job you are doing shaping your childrens' lives.

~Amy Lou

      

One of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone  and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't  you see I'm on the phone?' 

        

       Obviously not; no one  can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the  floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no  one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some  days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix  this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?? 

        

       Some days I'm not a  pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask,  'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What  number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right  around 5:30,  please.'

        

       Some days I'm a  crystal ball; 'Where's my other sock?, Where's my phone?,  What's for dinner?' 

        

       I was certain that  these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that  studied history, music and literature -but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.  She's going, she's going, she's gone! 

        

       One night, a group of  us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from  England . She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and  she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in.

I was  sitting there, looking around at the others all put together  so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.  I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a  beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.'  It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't  exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her  inscription: 'With admiration for the greatness of what you  are building when no one sees.' 

        

       In the days ahead I  would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what  would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I  could pattern my work: 1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. 2) These  builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never  see finished. 3) They made great sacrifices and expected no  credit. 4) The passion of their building was fueled by their  faith that the eyes of God saw  everything.

        

       A story of legend in  the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral  while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny  bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the  man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into  a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see  it And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.' 

        

       I closed the book,  feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was Almost as if  I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you. I see the sacrifices  you make every day, even when no one around you  does.

        

       No act of kindness  you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've  baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a  great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will  become.

        

       I keep the right  perspective when I see myself as a great builder.

As one of  the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be  on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no  cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there  are so few people willing to sacrifice to that  degree.

        

       When I really think  about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing  home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in  the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes  a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the  table.' That would mean I'd built a monument to myself. I just  want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything  more to say to his friend, he'd say, 'You're gonna love it  there...'

        

       As mothers, we are  building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it  right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will  marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that  has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible  mothers.

        

       Share this with all  the Invisible Moms you know... I just  did.

        

       The Will of God will  never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you. 

        

       To all the wonderful  mothers and grandmothers out there!!  God bless and  keep you.

As I am about to hit 'post', I got a message from my husband saying, "I'm sorry for last night. I love you."
I am going to accept it.  Because life runs more smoothly that way.

But because I know my husband, and in the past decade I can count his apologies on one hand...
I am taking a pot to see if he even knows *what* he's sorry for.
I've got $50 on no. ;)

At least he gave effort.

It is now my job to let it go.
And grasp a hold of a new day.

I am hoping this nap re-sets my screaming teether.
And he awakes again as my quiet little snuggle-bug, who loves to clap and smile .
The 3 year old is being much-much better today, for sure.

Thank. You. Lord.

Today is better.

[But in case things flip out of whack again.... I get to go to work in 3 hours and Lance gets to play mommy.]
Anyway you look at it... things are going up!!

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Today is Wednesday

Today was a super-terrific day.
Maybe one of my favorites in a long time.

I really don't have a reason to believe that it is any better than most days that we have together...
but it was.
Just awesome.

Good.
Family fun.

It started with donuts from Maddox and Lance.
(it has come to be a Wednesday morning tradition)

Then Beckham took his 2-stepping, to 5 stepping.
Although proud... I wish my baby would slow down.
We are almost walking!!

We straightened the house and headed out for lunch.

The weather was perfect today and my allergies decided to cooperate.
We had lunch on the patio at one of my favorite restaurants, Joe T. Garcia's.

Both boys ate so good.  (As did Lance and I)
And we were seated just next to the pond, so Maddox had fun playing while Lance and I sat.
And talked.

And Beckham stayed in the highchair, with so much to see outside.
[rare bonus]
(And I promise that my husband didn't stay on his phone the entire time... it is just the only picture I got!)


From there, we went to The Fort Worth Science Museum and Omni Theater.




We will most definitely get our money's worth out of our season passes.
We have been twice and still have not played in all of it, just yet.


The Omni experience didn't go quite as planned.

Maddox panicked a little, but I remember being quite scared myself when I was younger.
(the top of the head rest on the chair in front of you, stops at your feet-- the seating is straight up.)
He ended up loving it.
And Born to be Wild was great!!

Both boys were exhausted and crashed within minutes back in the car.

I did not have to work tonight... not even call.
[A nice change.]

Lance is off tomorrow...
And we are planning on going back to the stock show.
(our museum passes get us in there too.)

Lance has put his 2 weeks notice in at his job and we are embarking on a brand new journey in life.

It is scary.
But I feel peaceful about it.

We have thought about this, prayed about it, and worried ourselfs sick over it.
But today was so great.
So peaceful.

I think we have made the right decision.
I hope Lance feels equally as content.

We have tanked before...
And know how difficult that climb back out can be.

But sometimes you have to take the leap of faith.

So, here goes.

Today was a wonderful day.