This week…Eric had to fly to CA for a class.  He was gone from Tuesday morning until Thursday night.  He doesn’t really like to travel for work.  And then the class wasn’t terribly useful to him.  Not really a great trip…though he did bring home a toy airplane for each twin, and those were a HUGE hit.  So it wasn’t all a waste!

This week…I took the kids to my parents’ house to hang while Eric was gone.  The original plan was to spend Tuesday night and come home on Wednesday, but we ended up staying until Thursday morning.  I’m not sure who enjoyed the time more – the kids or my parents!  And I was just glad not to have to survive 3-on-Me time for the entire time Eric was gone.  That’s a long time to be in charge without someone to spell you…makes me appreciate single moms even more.  Without a doubt…Supermom, I am not!

This week…Megan has not been sleeping well. I blame her ears.  It would seem that she doesn’t really respond to the pink stuff.  It’ll knock out the worse of two infections, but not the lighter one which just keeps getting worse, until we end up back at the doctor’s office a week after finishing the antibiotics.  Not fun.  SO…since we’ve done 4 straight days of the pink stuff and we still need ibuprofen to sleep…I just called to get the white stuff now.  And we’ll all start sleeping through the night again every night…I hope!

This week…lions and tigers and bears were loose in Zanesville.  Of course, we were in Cedarville when it happened.  But it’s kind of weird to watch stories about your area of life on the national news.  And for something as red-neck as that, of course…

This week…Megan has learned a TON of stuff.  She can tell you what a duck (qua), a doggie (oof) and a cow (mmmmm) say.  She can point to her belly, head, and feet when asked.  I am certain she called for her favorite toy (“ah-oo” = where are you?) when we asked her where it was the other day.  When you say to “love (someone),” she’ll either blow a kiss, complete with a “mwah” sound, or give that person a big-ol’ sloppy kiss on whatever part of their face she first manages to touch.  She danced the other night when Erin was singing, and she can do some of the motions to “The Wheels on the Bus” and “Only a Boy Named David,” among other songs.  Basically, this kid is amazing the snot out of me…though I admit that I’m totally biased…and it kind of scares me what she might come up with next. 

This week…I have almost completely reorganized my kids’ clothes in the crawlspace.  Each box now contains only one gender/size, plus a box for outerwear/hats/gloves/etc and a box for clothes made for us, mostly by Grandma Hogue.  And I found some clothes I had been missing.  I still have to pull out some of the clothes from Megan’s room to drop in the appropriate box, as she’s getting ready to move into 12-18m clothes.  But my basement is cleaner, my crawlspace is organized better, and my ability to find what I want is now greatly enhanced.  I LOVE bringing order to chaos!  It makes me happy.

Which makes me wonder…this week, what makes YOU happy?  Feel free to share!

In the interest of not losing steam on my “I want to blog more often” goal, I decided I’d better just do a quick post while I have 3 sleeping children.

1. We’ve been sick.  For over a week.  The Sunday of Megan’s birthday party, I got sick.  Apparently, I very generously handed it out that day, too.  By the middle of last week, Alex was sub-par.  Megan was close behind.  

Neither one slept well all week (ergo…neither did I). Megan was up 2-4 times a night. We’d find Alex just standing somewhere in the middle of the night, looking sad and pathetic. Finally at 4 am Saturday morning, he said his ear hurt.  Ohhhh…that finally explained it!  So off we went to the pediatrician on Saturday morning (definitely infected). Of course, Megan then tanked on Sunday night, and we were back at the doctor’s office on Monday morning for her infected ears.  So now, both are on medication, both are obviously better, and one of these days, I am really, really hoping to sleep through the entire night again.

2. Erin, by the way, is feeling very left out of this “sick” thing. She keeps asking for meds and telling me her ears hurt. Um…nice try.

3. Alex took his medicine happily on day 1.  After that, not so much.  I have been putting it into chocolate milk to get him to drink it.  Probably not the best, I know, but I can’t hold him down by myself to pour it down his throat, and even if I did that, I can’t make him swallow it anymore.  He just spits it back at me.  SO not worth it.  So that’s what I’ve come up with.  So question of the day…how do you get your kids to take medicine willingly?

4. I made apple butter today. LOTS of apple butter.  Eric found a great recipe…like the stuff you get at Amish restaurants.  Yummy!  No crockpots are involved, which is actually good because every crockpot recipe I’ve ever tried turned out gummy apple butter, more like grape jelly than anything else, and I’ve never liked them.  This stuff…I LIKE!  

5. At one point, the apple butter splattered on me while I was stirring it and slightly burned my arm. It hurt. 

6. I am seriously saddened by the current state of my house, but between sick kids, no sleep, not feeling great myself, and the apples pressuring me to do something with them, my chores just aren’t getting done.  I’m trying to take 10-15 minutes and address one problem area every day or so, which at least tidies 1/1000 of the disaster zone that is my house.  Like the dump-all counter by my fridge in the kitchen.  I cleaned that off the other day.  It felt good.  And Megan’s dresser.  I worked on it one day last week.  But still, I do hope to have some semblance of order in my house again soon.  I don’t work (or live) well in disarray.

7. I’ve been reading the book, Spiritual Parenting, while I walk on my treadmill in the morning.  SUPER good.  I really want to get a group of moms to read it with me because it’s seriously motivating and practical, and I wish I had someone to talk about it with.  Who knows…maybe I’ll try a read-along or something. 

8. I have two laundry baskets waiting to be folded and I MUST get to them before the kiddos wake up.  So I guess this will end my “catch-all” blog for today. 

Happy Tuesday!

We survived our major birthday weekend.  

The twins got to go to the farm on Friday morning to spend the day and the night with their Grandma and Grandpa.  It was their first night away from home by themselves…ever.  And they LOVED it.  LOVED IT.  Seriously, my MIL apologized that she really couldn’t say they missed us because they just seemed to be having too much fun to worry about our absence.  And I say…Perfect!  No need to apologize on that account…when did you say you wanted to keep them again?

So they had a great time. And honestly, Friday went pretty well at our house, too.  Eric took a half-day off work and manned Megan while I did cakes.  I’m pretty sure Megan never once was concerned that the twins weren’t around.  She ate up all the two-on-one attention like she’d just been waiting for the last year for us to get our priorities straight and focus entirely on her.  Nice, right?

Saturday, we were up and to the farm by 10:30 or so.  The family came for a party around noon. Really, we had a great time just chatting and hanging out and laughing together.  And Alex really loved all of Megan’s presents.  I’m not sure Megan yet knows they are actually for her to play with.  Again…nice.

Anyway, we came home just in time for bedtime on Saturday night (having done baths and dinner before we left).  Then up for church on Sunday morning.  Then home so Megan could get down for a nap before my family arrived for her second party (thus, the second elephant cake if you missed my pic on FB).

Eric and I started working on cleaning up, getting the food ready, and finishing other random party prep.  And somewhere in there, it hit me.  I realized I was getting sick.  My head got a bit fuzzy, and my throat got a bit sore.  So that’s when I sort of down-shifted into survival mode.  But even still, we had a good time.  The cousins played and played.  Football was watched.  More cake and presents were had.  And my parents hung out to chat for a while after everyone else left, which was also really nice.  I miss time to just talk like that with them.

By the time they left, though, I was definitely feeling pretty crummy, so we didn’t make it to small group at church. We just did a family night and got to bed semi-close to bedtime.  And just like that, the birthday weekend was over.

And we had survived.  But really, we did more than that.  On Friday, I decided that I wanted to avoid auto-mode, that person I become when it’s about getting something done and not about the people I bowl over to get there.  And for once, it actually worked.  Okay, there was about a half-hour on Sunday afternoon when auto-mode kicked in.  But I really wanted to actually BE there for Megan’s parties and not just get through them.  I prayed to that end.  I really tried to keep my OCD in check and let things roll as they went.  I just knew that I didn’t want to look back on Monday evening, wishing I had done more than survive.

And now that it’s Monday night, I think I accomplished that goal.  The weekend was good.  Tiring, but good.  Yes, we survived it.  But we also lived it.  And that is good, too. 

So, one final time, happy birthday to my Megan! Can’t wait for next year! 

My sweet little Mega-Baby…you are officially ONE! I have absolutely loved getting to know your jolly little self over the last twelve months.  

You are my daredevil, my catch-me-if-you-can adventurer, my fearless explorer. I still feel a step behind you most of the time. Seriously, keeping track of you takes more energy and attention than I seem to have. You have yet to meet an obstacle you can’t get over or around (though sometimes you holler in frustration if it takes you more than one try to succeed at something!). One of your favorite places to be is on the couch, and thankfully, you’ve figured out how to get back off without falling on your head! Not that falling is a problem for you. You get knocked over, run over, pushed down by the twins multiple times a day. And when they aren’t “helping” you out, you manage to fall over, trip on nothing or get tangled up in adventures all by yourself! Really, if you make it to adult-hood in one piece, Lady Baby, I will be the most surprised of all!

In the last month, you’ve managed some major accomplishments, too. You finally got some teeth. I was beginning to wonder if that was ever going to happen (not that it kept you from eating everything in sight!). You started walking, too. Amazingly, you went from tentative half-steps to full movement in less than a week. What can I say…you’re impressive!

But more than that, you are just a bundle of happiness. Your giggles echo through the house. You love when I “chase” you up the stairs. You start up with a mischievous little grin on your face, breaking into hysterical laughter when I grab you up. You love having raspberries blown on your belly. You love peek-a-boo. You think we’re funny, and I think that you’re going to have a truly amazing sense of humor when you’re all grown up.

The twins are still pretty high on your list of “people you want to hang out with,” though you’re starting to dislike having toys taken from you (which does happen on a regular basis). Any toy they have, you think is the next best thing. And you are often inspiring screams and tantrums by stealing juice glasses they leave within your reach. But as much as you adore your siblings, you love your Daddy best of all, there is no denying. Every day when he comes home, you get yourself to the garage door as fast as your toddler steps can go and barely wait for him to get to you before you dive off the steps into his arms.  You call him, “DA!,” and I am pretty sure that you’re going to get anything you want from him for a long, long time!

We call you lots of things: Megan, Meggle-Beggle, Mega-Boo, Meggie (that one’s Erin’s favorite), and Megs.  But you are most definitely my Megan Marie.  You are a special, sweet Lady, and your Momma loves you very, very much.  Happy 1st Birthday!

Man, do I feel behind.

Just yesterday, I glanced quickly at my last few months of posts.  Or should I say…lack thereof.  It’s really quite sad how rarely I blog these days. I need to do it more. It’s good for me to get stuff out of my head.  And I miss the online connections that I used to have.  So why don’t I blog more (or do better with chores and kids activities and just staying on top of stuff)?

Well, of course, I’m busy.  Yes, of course, I have 3 kids under 3.  Yes, we’re dealing with colds and lack of sleep and a couple of deadlines and Megan’s first birthday this week and just general life.

But really, that’s no excuse. None of it is. Because, frankly, I have lots of time in my day. I have LOTS of time in my day to get done the little things I need to do. If I’m honest, I have to admit I’m just wasting the time that I have been given.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while, really. And I’ve batted around a few ideas that just help me get more together. Here’s some of what I’ve been thinking…

– Create a 10-Minute Task list.  The more I think about it, the more I realize that most tasks can be done in (or broken down into blocks of) 10 minutes (give or take).  So instead of writing an impossible-to-complete To-Do list every day, I wonder if I might get more done by choosing a handful of 10 minute tasks to focus on.  Not “Clean off the counters” but “unload the dishwasher” + “load the dishwasher” + “wipe off the counters.”  That way I could cross of each small task as I go and before the end of the day, the counters would actually get clean. 

– One Load a Day.  I know lots of people who do one load of laundry, all the way through, every day. And it works for them. I tend to be a LAUNDRY DAY kind of person.  And it works for me, most of the time. (Okay, except for the folding…man, do I wish I could get the dried stuff folded and put away!)  Still, I wonder if doing a load every day would help.  As someone who doesn’t do it, it seems like it would be depressing because it would make an mountainous task go on forever…on purpose.  But maybe that’s just me. Still, it’s something I’m considering.

– Keeping Track.  I haven’t done this one yet because I really, really am afraid of what I’ll find out about myself.  But I’m seriously considering doing an honest inventory of how I spend my day.  You know, break it down by hour or even 15-minute blocks.  And force myself to record what I do all day. How many times a day do I really sit down to “just check my email” which turns in to 30 minutes of doofing.  In that 30 minutes I could have done 3 10-minutes tasks, right?   Yeah, this one’s definitely scary, but it might be just what I need.

– Just do it. Today, we drove to Springfield to meet my parents at a restaurant for lunch.  We all left our respective places and connected for about 90 minutes over lunch. It wasn’t something I planned out (I set it up yesterday & this morning) because sometimes just doing it when I think of it keeps me from talking myself out of doing stuff that I know I need to do.  Like calling a friend or sending a thank-you or taking time to pray and read my Bible.  

I’m sure there are lots more great ideas out there.  And I am totally open to suggestions of anything you’ve tried that has worked for you.  But the fact that “life is crazy” right now just no longer seems a valid excuse.  When is life NOT going to be crazy?  And without going all OCD on myself and my family, I know it’s really possible for me to get things more together than they are right now. 

I guess I just need to buckle down and start somewhere.  Which is why I’m going to go make my bed…right now, before I check Facebook!

Alex has, in the last two days, told me he has to pee about 3 times.  One of those times he was already wet, but maybe, just maybe we are turning another corner in the wonderful world of PT.  At least I hope so.

I am not a fan of TruGreen lawn service.  Just sayin’.

Tonight I was going to make a roast.  Then I realized I didn’t have a roast in the freezer after all.  So we had Italian.  It wasn’t perfect, but it worked.

My children love to come and show me their “shiny” clean teeth after brushing before bed.  They’re cute.

Yesterday, Megan was trying to find the sticker I had had on my shirt (I’d taken it off).  So I asked her, “Where’s the sticker, Meg?  Where did it go?”  She toddled all the way out through the kitchen, to the garage door and pointed up at the sticker charts for the twins’ PT rewards.  I did not coach her; I just followed where she went.  Apparently, she knows the word “sticker” already.  Yikes.

I had one of those days today where, in order to finish any of the jobs on my to-do list, I had to start 3 other projects, which now remain undone.  But I did get the applesauce Eric and I made yesterday into the freezer and some stains out of some clothes.  So that’s something, I guess.

Speaking of stains, there really isn’t a good substitute for OxyClean, I’ve found.  The Clorox version never worked as well as OxyClean did today.  Maybe it’s just my laundry, though.  Who knows…

Because the twins played for an hour instead of going to sleep, all three of my kids napped for the exact same 2 hours today.  It.was.lovely!

Both twins finished a PT reward chart today.  Eric took them to the store, bought marshmallows and chocolate bars, and made them s’mores on the kitchen table with his camp stove.  They loved it.  Alex licked his graham crackers clean and left them on the table.  I guess we know where his priorities lie…

I’ve worn makeup for 5 days in a row.  Can’t remember the last time that happened.  Maybe I’ll just keep putting it on and get back into the habit.  Maybe not.  Do you find it helpful/important to wear makeup and such, even on a day you know you won’t go anywhere?  I debate the issue to myself sometimes, so I’d love to hear your thoughts on it.

Anyway, I need to go to bed.  So off I go.  Happy Monday!

I think we are nearing the crest of the potty training mountain.  It’s definitely a relief.  

The twins are both much more comfortable with the whole thing.  It’s becoming almost normal for them.  We still do diapers at naps and bedtime, but it’s old hat to sit on the potty and go.  I’m grateful for (and super-proud of) the progress they’ve made since we started.  But despite all the promises that “It does get better” that people gave me, potty training has been one of the hardest endeavors I’ve ever had to manage.  

The worst moment was in July. 

A few weeks in and I was wearing out.  Potty training requires constant attention.  After getting used to their growing independence, I was suddenly back to functioning as I had when they were infants.  It was 2-on-1 again.  It was never-ending.  I had to be constantly aware of everything they did, every place they went, to whisk them to the potty to avoid an accident.  And I was tired.

Then, we went to the farm.  And it was awful.  My son acted like he’d never seen a potty, much less been on one, and I was beyond frustrated.  On the way back to my in-laws after church (where 2 accidents had happened in less than 30 minutes), I was venting my frustration to Eric.  

“I’m not angry about it,” I told him. “Just frustrated.”

“Well, it looks like you’re angry,” he replied.  

“That’s because I have to deal with this ALL.THE.TIME.” I shot back, nearly in tears.  He didn’t say much.

Thankfully the twins take long naps at the farm.  After dinner, I had time to think.  And I spent the afternoon feeling like a failure.  I suddenly realized that to 2-year-olds, frustration and anger look exactly alike.  Which would explain why Erin had suddenly been apologizing for everything.  They thought I was mad at them.  It broke my heart.  

How were we ever going to survive PT?

Obviously, I needed a different approach.  I needed a new perspective, and I needed it fast.  So I made sure I got my walk in the mornings, half an hour of time outside with no one to bother me.  I decided to go back to sticker charts and rewards because that had seemed to work at first.  And I started to pray about potty training.

I know, you’d think I would have done that one before.  Honestly, it just never occurred to me that God would care about PT.  But I cared.  And the Bible said, “Cast your cares on Him for He cares for you.”  So I did just that. 

And amazingly…perspective was exactly what I got.  Whether other people’s kids really potty-trained in 3 days or not, it was clear that mine were going to take longer.  A lot longer.  Months.  Maybe even most of a year before they were really trustworthy all the time, as a friend had learned with her kids.  

And that was the real problem.  It wasn’t the “failures” or the constant piles of poopy underpants to clean.  It wasn’t the potty training, at all.  It was me.  I’m a goal oriented person.  I am.  Other people take “joy in the journey,” but I get mine from accomplishing something.  And I’m great on short sprints.  I can handle activities where finishing is mostly dependent on me getting something done.

But PT isn’t like that.  It’s totally dependent on other people.  It’s a long-term process.  Reaching the “goal” is less an actual event than a gradual realization that they’ve been accident-free for ages and can tell you, dependably, when they need to go.  It does get better, just like everyone promised, but there’s a lot of back-and-forth, a lot of 2-step-forward-1-step-back kind of days before it does.  

What I needed was endurance.  So that’s what I prayed for.  Every day.  “Jesus, I don’t have the endurance for the marathon that is potty training.  I don’t have the patience to go the one or two steps that we will go today.  I want to be done.  But they are not ready.  They are trying.  They are doing great.  But I cannot rush them or we’ll regress.  So I need endurance.  And that I can only get from You.  Because that’s how you treat me.  Thank you for your never-ending patience with my constant failures.  Help me live that out to my children.  Amen.”

So…the potty training continues, and we are making it.  They’re doing really, really well, overall.  We still have our accidents, of course.  But Erin will tell me she has to go.  In fact, sometimes she goes on her own and tells me afterwards.  Alex is mostly willing, though he’s still a long way from telling me when he has to go.  But if I make sure he sits regularly, we can avoid most accidents.  So it’s okay.

And for now, we are surviving.  I am learning to have endurance.  I’m still working on the “joy” part of the journey, but thankfully, God’s been pretty patient with me.  And just like my twins and PT, we’ll eventually get there, God and me.  Just like He promised.  

Because His promises never fail.

I was going to blog today about the huge disappointment that was last night.  It would be my side of the story, complete with whining and complaining.  I was going to tell how the last 24 hours was supposed to be refreshing and rejuvenating, and instead ended up being even more exhausting and demanding than usual.  

I know…boo hoo.  Poor me.  Someone get the tissues. 

Still, that’s what I was going to write.  I was going to run down my litany of complaints.  And I was going to excuse it all with the title: “The Honest Truth”.  It didn’t matter if I painted unflattering portraits of my family or vented angrily about the “trials” of my life.  It wouldn’t even matter if it wasn’t “true” exactly, but it would be honest.  So it would be okay…right?

I thought so…until very quietly, the still small Voice whispered quietly, How about “The Ugly Truth” instead? 

And that stopped me cold.  The post I had planned wouldn’t just paint a picture of the unfortunate turn of events that transpired at my house last night.  Even more clearly, it would paint a picture of ME.  And what sort of me?  An Ugly me.

A sad and discouraged me, for sure.  But worse that that, an unloving and hard-hearted me.  My frustration.  My lack of grace in the face of unexpected change.  A heart that dealt with hurt by lashing out at others.  It wouldn’t be pretty.  Even if it was “honest.” 

So I didn’t write that post.  The circumstances were unfortunate.  My disappointment, very real.  But the events of last night cannot be changed by a sad and semi-peeved blog post.  So I’m choosing to let them go.

I’m still exhausted and overwhelmed.  I still don’t understand why the so-rare opportunity to get away for an evening had to evaporate before my very eyes 15 minutes before I was supposed to leave.  I still have some tears to cry.  I still can’t say that God is a better source of refreshment for me (though that is probably true, if I’d just spend more time with Him.)  And I still am not ready to have my kids up from naps this afternoon.

But the honest truth is that last night is done, and we will all survive.  In comparison to the trials of some good friends and loved ones, my “sufferings” are not very great at all.  And yet God will use even these little things to wash away my ugliness so that He can recreate me in His image.  Which is lovely, indeed.

So Megan turned 11 months old yesterday.  She’s walking all.the.time.  She takes 2-4 steps, touches her hands to the floor, stands back up, takes 2-4 more steps, and continues until she actually falls over.  Eric figures we have a week before she’s walking more than crawling.  Yikes!

She’s a super jolly lady.  Tickling her rib cage (or this one spot on her inner thigh) or bouncing with her will send her into peals of laughter.  And when she gets really laughing, her whole face lights up and her eyes crinkle up until they disappear.  It’s very cute, I must say.  

Of course, she’s still a determined little thing, and quite fearless.  She’s figured out how to open drawers (grrr!).  And she climbs anything in front of her.  I found her on hands and knees on the end table yesterday.  She’d climbed over the arm of the couch to get there.  She gets really frustrated when she can’t reach something she wants.  I’ve learned that certain grunts or howls mean I’ll find her stretching her little arms as far as they will go to get a hold of some toy.  She works so hard at it, I’m surprised she’s not getting taller by the day!

She does NOT like to be reprimanded, I’ve discovered.  She might be a backtalker when she’s older, if her early responses to correction give any indication.  But for the most part, she just happily plays with her toys, jabbers to herself or us, and generally follows the twins around trying to be just like them.  It’s hard to believe she’s so old already, but we definitely love having her happy little self around!

As for the twins, Erin tells me regularly how much she “loves her baby sis-tur” though that sentiment quickly disappears when Megan comes “too close” to her toys or coloring books. She spends vast amounts of time talking (to everyone or no one), singing and doing puzzles.  She leaves the “S” off the beginnings of words, which is super cute: star=’tar, spider=’pider, stop=’top.  You’d think I’d remember this, but it surprises me how often I have trouble translating those missing ‘S’-es!  On another note, yesterday I put some flashcards onto rings for them, and she’s been flipping through them pretty much continuously ever since.  We were going through them this morning (no one else was up yet), and she started putting me through MY paces with them: “Mommy, what color is this ‘tar?”  “Is it big or little?”  “What this shape?”  It was obviously exactly how I ask her those questions, and it made me laugh. She’s my very own Mini-Me for sure!

Alex is getting more verbal by the day.  Even people who aren’t around him all the time can figure out what he’s saying now.  The little girl at the mall play place this morning seemed to understand him without any problems at all.  He’s not the trained monkey that Erin is, but he loves to song along with us, especially in there are motions to do.  And he remembers everything I say, whether he’s willing to spit it back to me or not.  His favorite songs are “My God is So Big” and “I Gotta Feeling” (Black Eyed Peas).  I know…he’s eclectic. And he is such a sweet little guy.  He loves talking to people, whether they get him or not, and he is totally enamored of “big kids.”  He’s definitely still our Bud-Bud, but it’s crazy to see how fast he’s changing these days. 

And that, in a nut shell, is our little group.  Of course, this update was brought to you courtesy of Megan’s 11th month of life, and hopefully, I won’t wait until her 1 year post to update again.  But we shall see…

Happy Thursday!

Yesterday, I had a “moment.”  I felt it coming.  And for once, I knew the exact second it hit me.  

I was on the phone with my sister.  Megan was babbling on the floor behind me.  Erin got up from her nap and joined us, which means she was also talking (since sound starts coming from her mouth at the second she realizes that she is, in fact, awake).  Immediately, Erin needed to go potty, so we hurried to my bathroom, Megan behind us, while I tried to continue conversing intelligently with Karen on the phone.  Except…Erin decided the toilet needed flushed before she could go, and before I could stop her, Karen and Megan were drowned out by the sound of rushing water.

That was the moment.  That second…right there.  

It was the exact moment when my brain shut down.  Too much stimulation.  Too many competing sounds and sensory inputs.  Overwhelming noise and need and energy-drain.  It was just too much. 

I went into auto-pilot.  And sad to say, I stayed there for the rest of the day (as, not surprisingly, the amount of noise and activity in my house didn’t go down until after bedtime).

Thankfully, I could still function.  I actually got some stuff done.  I even played (sort of) with my kids.  But I wasn’t fully there.  I wasn’t engaged.  I was done. 

I could bemoan my inability to stay focused and attentive to every single second of my day.  I could beat myself up for wasting precious moments with my little ones who won’t be little for very long.  I could spend my morning trying to “make up for” last night’s attitude that bedtime couldn’t come fast enough.  But I’m not going to.  Why?

Because of the verse I read this morning.  James 2:13 – Mercy triumphs over judgement.  

See, I am a recovering perfectionist.  I am harsh and critical and set the bar far too high for any human being to reach.  I am a judger of persons, and I am hardest on myself.  But that is not God’s way.  God is Mercy.  God does not expect perfection.  He expects availability.  He doesn’t want me to work for years in my own strength to achieve that one “perfect” day (however I define it).  He wants me to open myself up to Him, to His power, to His Spirit so that whatever I accomplish today can be for His glory and of eternal value.  

And beating myself up (judgement) isn’t going to help me do things God’s way.  Falling on His Mercy is the only way that’s going to happen.

So today, I’m cutting myself some slack.  I’ll get done what I can.  I’ll withstand the constant noise and neediness as best I can.  I’ll do a lot of short, in-the-moment praying.  I’ll try to stay connected to Him and to my children.  And maybe even let mercy overwhelm my moments instead of letting my moments overwhelm me.

At least…that’s the plan.