I need to say thank you more than I do. Lots more.

Certainly, I want to help my kids develop a thankful, grateful spirit. That’s why we practice saying please and thank you and why we make them ask nicely instead of ordering other people around. 

But mostly, I just want to start saying Thank You way more often than I normally do. To take opportunities when they present themselves and to create them when they don’t just drop in my lap.

Like over Christmas. I spoke briefly with a former pastor at my parents’ church on Christmas day, and I took the moment to thank him, almost without intending to. Pastor Shearer was the assistant/youth pastor at our church growing up, and honestly, a huge portion of my faith’s foundation came from his influence: missions trips, memorized verses, Sunday school lesson after lesson after lesson. And now that I’m a parent, I desperately hope and pray for a similar gift for my kids, someone like Pastor Shearer to build into my kids’ lives, to help them build a rock-solid and biblical foundation that will last them for the rest of their lives. And so I thanked him.

Like delivering a meal to a friend with a new baby. This is a girl who gave me a particularly rare gift. Three years ago, we were both pregnant for the first time. She was due just a couple months before me. But her son was born still at about 30 weeks. And I delivered two healthy babies at 38 weeks just a few months later. But after the twins were born, she went in on a gift for our family with a mutual friend. She gave me a baby gift. Though her grief was still overwhelming, she chose to celebrate with me. Really, she gave me permission to celebrate. It took real humility and grace and faith to do what she did, and it was a kindness that I still feel deeply. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever written a more sincere thank you card than the one I wrote for that gift. So thank you, Andrea.

Like just humbly thanking Jess and Kristen and Gail and so many of my online friends. You listen to me whine and stress out and you remind me that I am not alone, that things are never as bad as they appear to be, that things will get easier. You give me words to describe my struggles so that I can understand my own life. And you do not judge my silliness and my stupidity and my failures. Thank you, to all of you, as well.

Yep…I need to say thanks. It’s good for me. And I hope to do it more regularly…online and in real life. I want to dwell more on the sweet gifts that I have been given and say thank you for them, instead of imagining that I somehow deserve all the blessings that God has poured into my life. Because I absolutely do not deserve them. And when that truth really grips my heart, I think gratitude will be the only possible outcome. Which would be a very good thing!

I was driving home from the library last week. It had not been a good morning. At least…I didn’t think so.

To be fair, story time had gone well, overall. The kids behaved, as much as kids at this age do.

But it had stressed me out. Most outings do, these days. Getting all four of us out the door, in full winter gear, on time and without me wanting to pull my hair is a challenge that most days I am just not up to. I’m sure I need to cut them (and me) some slack. This is a difficult time of the year, a difficult season of life. But still, when I do suck it up and try to get us somewhere, I get stressed.

Whether they are or not, I feel like everyone is watching me. And while most people are just amused at something Megan’s doing or noticing the twins’ double-cuteness, the fact that we draw attention adds to my sense that I’m held to a higher standard. That I have to somehow make this stage of life look easy. And it’s not. And I can’t. 

When I go places, I’m a bit jealous, I must admit, of the mom who has one four-year-old with her. Or just the preschooler and the baby (sometimes still in a car seat). Their kids get full attention. Mine don’t. Two eyes and three kids means that somebody’s not under surveillance at any given time. And that one is, inevitably, spinning in a circle or pulling something off a shelf or otherwise acting like the toddler/preschoolers that they are. But it stresses me. I feel inept. Like I should, for example, somehow be able to control Alex and Megan even when I’m zeroed in on an epic battle with Erin’s zipper. And that day, these other moms were even monopolizing the bathroom entryway so that I couldn’t even get into and back out of the restrooms without the stress of seeing their kids just standing there waiting while I failed miserably to keep Megan corralled while simultaneously washing Alex or Erin’s hands.

And then, after all of that…after finally getting out of the building, across the parking lot (which is stressful even when we’re all holding hands), and into the van (followed by nearly 10 minutes of arranging, rearranging and buckling up)…after all of that, I got behind a FREAKIN’ GARBAGE TRUCK on the ride home. It was the very, very last straw. My frustration erupted into my typical response…”ARRRRGHHHHHH! Silence followed. For about 10 seconds. Then Alex giggled. “Mommy, you make funny sounds.” Thanks, Bud. Thanks so much for noticing. 

Obviously, it was not a good day.

But even still, it occurred to me somewhere along that drive home, that maybe, just maybe, my definition of good needed tweaking. When I honestly asked myself, “What do I mean by good?” I realized that in my world, good means “easy.” It means “smooth and flawless and without interruption and without complication and without unexpected delays.” I get what I want, when I want, and no one bothers me and everyone obeys and the checkout lady gets my entire order right and the fresh meat doesn’t drip blood on my other groceries and my kids don’t have meltdowns and we make it home having accomplished all of our errands in less than 90 minutes. Yeah…that would be a good day.

But it isn’t reality.

And it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, good is supposed to do less with “how things went” or “how things turned out” and more with whether I ever even looked for Jesus to show up in this crazy adventure that is life in our house (or van) these days. Could an day or activity be good, even if I end up behind a garbage truck or my kids refuse to nap or we arrive totally late or I get only one of my three intended errands done? If “easy” isn’t really what makes a day good…then what does? In other words, what would make God call this day a good one? How would He define good? 

Because, I’ll be honest, I haven’t figured it out yet. Take today, when an unexpected trip to the pediatrician (after a long night = one tired mommy) followed by a trip to Target where the checkout lady was not stellar and Alex was more interested in exploring puddles than helping me get his sisters to the van and out of the rain quickly had me stressed out and frustrated again. Based on my typical standard…it was not good. 

But then again…we have no ear infection (nor do we have hand-foot-mouth either!). And I got the important stuff at Target (or most of it anyway). And I had more than enough money to cover my purchases. And my kids played quietly while I dealt with said cashier. And we did not have a car wreck on the way there or home (I saw one being cleaned up when I put gas in the van) and I could afford to fill my van with gas in the first place and we came home to a warm house and good lunches and way more stuff than we could ever really need…and I start to wonder. Maybe this day is a good one after all, even with my tendency to stress. 

Anyway, this post is obviously not about answers. In this case, I’m a long way from answers. This one’s just about me throwing out the question…and seeing, perhaps, if you’ve already been where I am and what you’ve discovered along the way. So please feel free to share. Or if you’ve got nothing (yet) either, then maybe we can both just be encouraged that we are not the only ones whose personal tribe of Little Folks can sometimes drive us batty. I’m right there with you.

And thankfully…good company is always good. 

Since I haven’t really done a “what are we doing these days” post recently (okay, except for Megan’s 15-month post, but I forgot some stuff and didn’t mention the twins), I figured I’d do a quick one tonight.

Alex…

is currently saying “that makes me happy” or “that makes me laugh” when he really likes something and “that makes me sad” when he doesn’t want to do something.

is a big fan of the video for “Move It, Move It” by will.i.am with the Madagascar 2 characters dancing. 

uses an implied “not” on a regular basis. He simply leaves out the word, even when the context clearly indicates it should be there. As in, he’s crying, “I want lunch” while throwing a fit on the floor…we’ve learned that he really means “I don’t want lunch.” (We’re pretty astute, huh?)

has explosions of energy that just astound me. They come from nowhere, require great creativity on my part to provide outlets so he doesn’t destroy the house or his sister or me, and usually end when he flops over and announces “I not run anymore.”

Erin… 

has taken to calling Alex “Brother” when she’s calling for him. As in “Brother! Here’s your puppy, Brother!”

can button her own buttons and walk down stairs comfortably without holding on now.

will occasionally reply to my call to come (for lunch or dinner, say) with “be right there after I (fill in the blank with some random activity)!” Really? She’s 3…can’t wait to see what she’s “just finishing” when I call her when she’s 11.

Megan…

Has started saying “gain” meaning again, and “have it” meaning give that to me, and she’ll say “bye bye” to anyone these days (or at least wave)

She’s taken to touching or doing things she knows she’s not supposed to and saying “stop it” while she does it…because that’s what I say to her. It’s usually nothing actually disobedient, more like taking clothes out of the laundry basket that I’m trying to fold from. It comes out like “stoppit” when I say it to her…so that’s how she says it to me, too. It’s hard not to laugh while I distract her with something less intrusive.

She’s also started scavenging from Alex and Erin. As soon as they finish eating, she says “ah done” and when we put her on the floor, she climbs into their chairs and finishes anything left on their plates. Seriously…she’s a mooch!

And that’s all I can think of at this late hour…you know 9:00 p.m. But hey, it’s late for me…so no judging! 

Well…Here we are at 15 months. I realize I a bit late getting this post up, but hey, I have to chase Megan around all day, so I don’t have a lot of time for posting about her!

One thing is definitely for sure. In the last few months, Megan has developed quite the personality. I mean…just look at these faces!

But her smile is definitely the best. This girl has got a grin that lights up her face. And when she’s really happy, she scrunches up her nose and laughs through her nose until she snorts. Oh yeah…too cute!

She is definitely keeping me hopping these days. She’s started showing a stubborn streak that can outdo either of the twins’ best efforts. A “no” gets you a frown, a bit of baby backtalk…heck, once she even stomped herself in a circle while she hollered at me for telling her not to do something (get into a drawer, I think). I think I’m really gonna have my work cut out for me when she’s older (you know – 2, 3, 16). She’s definitely a smart one; she’s got a really large vocabulary — multiple times a week, she surprises me with a word I didn’t know she knew — and she’s learned how to mimic counting from 1-10 already (I don’t think she really can count, she’s just repeating what we say with the twins all the time). And she’s figured out how to climb, too. I have to be on constant vigilance for her attempts to scale the kitchen chairs and scavenge off the table anything she finds there. And if she can make it without getting caught, she will sit and sometimes stand on the table, too. I know…good times, right? The other day, she found a pen on the table and managed to draw a small line on the top of her foot before I found her. This was particularly funny because, for the rest of the day, she kept rubbing her fingers on the line with her brow furrowed, as if she could not figure out where it came from. And because I’m such a good and attentive mom, I did wash it off her foot eventually…okay, before bed anyway. 

Megan hates to miss out on anything. She wants to be where the action is, and she does not deal well with any attempt to give something to the twins and not to her. As we’ve often said, she thinks she is a late-born triplet! But she’s starting to really interact with her siblings, which is fun to watch. You know…the hugs, the in-your-face discussions, the American Gothic-like poses (minus the pitchforks, of course). 

The twins definitely still like having her around (most days, anyway). We do have to make sure she’s not being bowled over by Alex when he’s blowing off his little-boy energy, but she’s a pretty tough little thing. And she and Erin have a normal, sisterly relationship: fighting over toys one minute, then dressing each other up the next. And I do credit Erin with Megan’s rather large vocabulary. The other day during dinner, Erin started jabbering at Megan, who was in her high chair across the table. It went something like this: “Hey, Megah…are you eating bread? Can you say “bread,” Megah? Huh? Can you say it?” Megan’s response (complete with head nod): “Yeah.”

Megan absolutely loves her Daddy still. He’s her favorite part of the day. And it’s not really surprising. She’s definitely a lot like her Daddy. She loves technology and anything with buttons to push and lights that she can interact with. But unlike Eric, she LOVES to wear “pretty” things, too – princess shoes, dress-up hats and clothes, and the occasional hair bow. (Eric will be glad I clarified that she didn’t get that from him. ) She still loves her pink elephant (her Pinkyderm, as her daddy dubbed it) and her “fishies” that swim on her sound machine at bedtime. And she gives the best hugs — the head-on-your-shoulder-and-pat-you-on-the-back kind — on command (though they can be a bit forceful and knock you right over if you aren’t prepared for them). 

But mostly she’s our adorable, active, happy, lovely little Megan. She’s a joy to have around, and she makes us laugh every day. We love you lots, Punkindoodle!

Okay, so it was a long week. One of those weeks where you pretty much cut it down to the basics, treading water until reinforcements or bedtime arrive (whichever comes first!). It wasn’t overly bad…just long. Very long.

Take Monday, for example. Monday was a potty training minefield. At 9:30, I was sure I was making some major leap forward when Alex, for the first time ever, actually said, “My underpants are wet” when we were practicing running to the potty (an idea offered by our pediatrician at last week’s 3 Year well-visit). And then at 9:50, he was pooping in his pants in the hallway. He then peed himself while sitting at the table for lunch (wet to his ankles by the time I found him), so I ran him to one potty and then put Erin on the other. I was running back and forth between bathrooms (on two different floors) when the stench hit me as I neared Erin’s perch. I turned into the room to find her standing on the stool, looking at the mirror, with poop in her underpants, and it took me a second to realize that she was standing on the stool, looking at the mirror. When I’d left, she was sitting happily on the potty. Which means she stood up, pulled up her pants, and then pooped when the urge hit her instead of sitting back down. 

Needless to say, I pretty much threw in the towel at that point and just got them both down for naps as quickly as possible. Seriously…

I have to say that I was surprised at how draining this week was. We actually played outside 2-3 days this week. We played at the mall one day. We jumped on our basement trampoline every day. We jumped on the couch cushions most days. We did crafts and played with stickers and read books and made cookies (not all of those things, every day, of course). 

But still…the week was hard.

Of course, it didn’t help that the twins, especially Erin, were up too early most days this week, so they were tired…and that always makes a difference. In fact, most of the meltdowns that happened in our house this week (theirs and mine) can be directly correlated to lack of sleep. 

And I guess the noise levels were another issue. For some reason, my kids just made noise all.week.long. They bickered. They yelled at each other. They hollered for me, to me, around me, behind me. Megan bellows if she thinks there was even a hint that the twins were favored with something she didn’t get. The twins bellow…well, for just about any reason. The crying sessions were long this week (mostly because we were tired, I think). There was just too much noise. 

Still…there were a lot of good things, too. Mom’s group on Thursday night. Multiple dinners that turned out so well Eric ate seconds and commented on how good they were. Actually got some writing done this week. Had really funny moments with my kids. Finishing two books in a single week. A date today with Eric to see a movie for free + free popcorn. And my MIL, who watched the kids for us today, picked up the toys, cleaned up my kitchen (even the floor), and generally had the house looking spiffy when we got back (Thanks again, Pam!). 

So, obviously, long is not the same thing as bad. Just long. And I guess that is just how some weeks go. Still…I’m hoping for a “shorter” week in the next seven days! That would be lovely…

We were at my parents’ house on Christmas day. Erin came in the kitchen talking on a toy phone, having a socially accurate and perfectly clear conversation with whomever she was imagining to be on the other end of line. I couldn’t help but wonder…Where’d she learn that?

Of course, the answer was obvious. From me. She learned by watching me, by listening to me, by observing me, her mom, who often spends an hour or more on the phone at one time with my sister or my mom. To be honest, I was pretty impressed. Her phone etiquette was amazing. Her conversation…perfect. I chuckled. And then I stopped as a second, quieter question crossed my mind. A scarier, much-more-important, prompted-by-the-Spirit kind of question. 

What else is she learning from me?

It was a serious question, which, in recent days, I’ve asked regularly. And so far, the answer has been altogether too convicting.

For example: 

The other day, I tried to turn on Mickey Mouse for my kids to watch. The computer searched for a bit and kicked me back to the main menu. Weird, I thought. I started it again when, out of the blue, Erin says, “Hey, Mommy, are you gonna cry out loud now?”

It took me a second and then it hit me. I say it all the time — “for crying out loud!” It means “Why won’t this thing just work, dangit, I’ve already tried it multiple times!” And it’s usually accompanied by a particularly unladylike (and un Christ-like) “grrrrrr” sound. So when Mickey had to be restarted, Erin very innocently wanted to know if I would be crying out loud this time. 

Ouch.

See, I know I’m an easily frustrated person. When things don’t go my way or when someone makes my life harder (which happens a lot with 3 toddlers in the house), I get huffy. Even angry. It’s not something I’m proud of. It’s a part of my personality that I’ve excused for years. And now, suddenly, my twins are 3, and I’m faced with the reality that my quick-anger, easily-frustrated, sharp-tongued, impatient reactions to everything (no matter how big or inconsequential) are teaching my kids something. 

Like when I ask where she put some little nothing and her first reaction is “I’m sorry, Mommy.” As if she has to apologize immediately…apparently to smooth out any chance that I may “cry out loud” at her because she didn’t have it.

Ouch. 

So, I’ve been trying to do some honest assessment…What are my kids learning from me?

Are they learning to judge people as somehow “less” because they don’t look like we do, don’t have what we have, don’t live like we live? Because that’s what I do.

Are they learning to get angry when things don’t go their way? Because that’s what I do.

Are they learning to yell at people while we’re driving, critiquing them and calling them names, because “well, they can’t hear my venting so it’s okay”? Because that’s what I do and think. 

Are they learning to only give to those people to whom it’s easy to give? Because that’s how I do it.

Are they learning to demand their own way, as fast as it can be handed to them? Because that’s how I function. 

And I also wondered…what could I be teaching my kids?

What if they saw me reading my Bible and praying as much in a day as I’m on the phone or computer? Would they absorb that as efficiently as they’ve picked up my lessons on “how to use social media”?

What if they saw me reach out to the unlovable neighbors, on purpose, because those are the people Jesus would reach out to?

What if I showed them that all people, even the ones who can’t hear what I’m saying, deserve to be respected and shown God’s love?

What if I spoke to them with grace instead of frustration, with patience instead of anger, with love instead of accusations?

I’ve often heard it said that God uses our kids to mold us as much as He uses us to mold them. And of course, it’s true. But to be honest, the reality that what I’m doing has a much greater impact on my kids than what I say to them has hit me hard recently. It’s a brutal truth, but I’m glad to see it now, instead of realizing it when they’re teenagers. And I’m glad that God intervenes, using us in spite of our brokenness to grow our kids into who He wants them to be, if both we and they will let Him. 

Of course, I definitely need to cry out loud less often. I probably need to talk on the phone less often, too. And a lot of other things as well. One day, I’d love to have that “gentle and quiet spirit” Peter talks about. I don’t have it. Not yet. But thankfully, I do have the Spirit of gentleness and peace…so there is hope for me yet. There is hope that I won’t completely screw my kids up. That the lessons Erin (and Alex and Megan) take away from our years together will be greater than how to use the phone and get frustrated over nothing. Because I can always start over today, turning back to him for guidance and wisdom and strength to live this life IN Him.

Which is, I’d guess, exactly what He was intending all along.