Being a grown up.....

So recently Emma asked me "Mom, what does it feel like to be grown up?"

That's an excellent question. I have only felt like a grown-up for about 3 years. It seriously took me until 35 to even feel like I was not just dressing up and pretending to be a wife, mom, counselor, etc. (Yes, that means I'm 38. Love 38. Have never understood why some women don't want anyone to know their age. I mean, I lived every single day of my 37th year and it feels like I earned the number 38. Maybe it's just me.) So, back to how does it feel to be a grown-up. Well, here are the things it means to me, thus far:

1. I know that I don't know everything, AND I feel fine about it.
2. I have passed the toddler years and have no diapers to change, and I feel fine about that.
3. I can talk with basically anyone without feeling too intimidated.
4. I am done shopping in teenage clothing stores and feel happy about it.
5. I can say yes, or no without guilt.
6. I feel happy about more and more time to enjoy my husband, as our kids develop their own lives.
7. I have occasional panic about my kids developing said lives.
8. I can let people be who they are without trying to change them or be the Holy Spirit for them.
9. I welcome God's work in my heart- it's really one of my favorite parts of life recently.
10. I dye my hair more frequently, take more vitamins, exersize for energy and tell the people I love, that I love them all the time.

So, there you have it. Grown up so far. Won't it be fun to see how it feels 10 years from now?

(me and my beautiful mom on my 38th birthday last year, when she and dad surprised me with a visit. NEVER too grown up to want your mom with you on your birthday!)

Pick the Right Focus

So this is what greeted me this morning after I ran the two younger kiddos to school:

Sigh. What is it about a sink full of dishes that can be so disheartening? Then about 2 feet away on my kitchen counter I looked over and saw:

The trouble I face in this world sometimes seems to be a sink full of dirty dishes. Or a huge pile of unpaid bills. Or my teenage son's attitude. Or my baby girl's teeth. But it's not. It's mainly my attitude about all those things that is the trouble. And this morning, I am taking heart that Jesus has even overcome my bad attitude. My worried, unbelieving, selfish, fearful heart has been ransomed. And is in the process of being transformed. 

The reluctant gardner

There was a movie that came out awhile back called The Constant Gardener (mostly tragic, not at all about gardening) and I decided if there WAS a movie made about my gardening, it would be called The Pitiful Gardener, or The Reluctant Gardener. I kill plants. I try very hard to keep them alive, but with all my best efforts, they still don't survive. So every spring I get motivated to try planting something that requires no effort on my part. Thus far, I have managed to not kill our boxwood hedge in the front yard (although to be fair, it was already there when we moved in) and I have some white daffodils that bravely reemerged for the past three years. I guess they don't know of my rep. That's about it- even the border grass I planted kicked the proverbial bucket!

So, imagine my delight when my mother-in-law showed me what she thinks is a violet growing right beside my driveway! Now, I have plans to carefully dig up Ms. Violet, not breaking her roots and transplant her into a tea cup or some other adorably creative idea that you might see over on Pinterest.

But, after considering the statistical odds of Violet's demise if I follow that plan out, I may just leave her where I found her. Don't you just love Spring?

By the way, I welcome suggestions on spring plantings that you think are indestructible!

Lava Lamps and Women

The longer I'm married the more clearly I see I am like a lava lamp and my husband is like, well, a regular lamp. (For the purposes of this analogy only. Not trying to impune his originality or creativity. In case he reads this.) So a regular lamp is only "on" when you turn it on. Otherwise it's off. Very straightforward. It shines at one level of brightness, or is completely dark. A lava lamp on the other hand has all these globs of who know's what? floating around in varying stages of light and it changes constantly. Kind of mesmorizing but also, not exactly the best light to say, read or sew or look for your missing birth control pill that fell out of your hand onto the floor (happened this morning).

So, in my world, when I start off my day it's like turning on a lava lamp. All these pieces of information begin moving around in my mind bumping into each other and sometimes combining into new ideas. One thought sparks another, often unrelated to the current thought at hand, and I just add to the globs as the day goes on. So, if for example, I'm thinking about "did I remember to send in Klynt's football forms", it leads to "I'm going to have to change my counseling hours when football season starts so I can be at the games", which leads to "what am I planning for dinner tonight". (Because last year during football season, planning dinners on game nights was challenging.) Which then leads to a deeper thought on "whether I'm doing a good job balancing caring for my family and working" and "do they feel nurtured" and "are we really sharing meals together the way I believe is good". And all this goes on between the time I wake up and pour my first cup of coffee.

Enter my husband, sleepy and non-globby brained who is, at the moment, thinking "Breakfast". He then asks, "do we have any of that good juice left that I liked?" It's really an innocent question, but unfortunately for him he just threw a blob in my lamp that hit my last thought about not knowing if my family feels nurtured. New blob: defensiveness. "Well, we would have more but our grocery budget only stretches so far and I told you if you'd drink a little less we wouldn't run out." Poor guy just wanted a glass of juice. He looks at me like I'm sort of cute and cranky and continues about the process of breakfast. My husband is unfailingly patient. Meanwhile 3 new blobs have appeared including: guilt "I was being defensive for no good reason", time "I have got to get Emma moving or we'll never get out the door" and football forms have reappeared "must ask Klynt if I gave him the forms". Now that I'm more awake the blobs get brighter and move around faster, but they're all still there. In fact, that little blob of guilt will reemerge when I see my husband later that evening. Now here's the proof that he doesn't carry all his thoughts about everything he is connected to all day in his brain: when I apologize for being defensive in the morning, he will inevitably ask "for what?" Every time. He had turned that thought off as soon as he finished breakfast: "Cranky wife" was replaced with "Shower and Get to Work", and it never reappeared. I love this about him for many reasons.

Thankfully, the Lord is always moving around in my mind as well. Reminding me which blobs to throw out, which ones to pay attention to and that he created me this way for a good purpose.

Chef Hat is Slipping

I don't know what is wrong with me lately, but I am so completely out of ideas in the cooking arena! I feel like I make the same 10 meals over and over. I know the internet is full of great websites, but in truth, I get overwhelmed when I start looking. (This is the same feeling I get when I walk into a TJ Maxx, so I rarely do that either) Here is what I need: meals that are simple to prepare, healthy, tasty and frugal. Anyone know of a site where those criteria would be met?

As a side note, tonight the fam will be eating leftovers....

...learning how to add pictures (Thanks Keva!) so I thought I'd practice on the "Russell Family Member of the Day". Is she not the sweetest thing?

Nurses Cap

We just got home from Emma's surgery and I'm thankful it's over! She did really well, and now we work on recovery. The worst part for me was how pitiful she was when she first woke up. She was crying, her mouth was full of gauze and she was totally disoriented. I had to carry her to the van because her little legs were so wobbly. The comic relief was she kept insisting we go get her promised Webkinz right now, mouth full of gauze and all. I knew she was delirious so I kept saying, "we'll get them soon" trying to pacify her and not upset her further.

I wonder if we ever sound that delirious and comical to God in the things we ask for to escape or distract from our pain?

For today, I'm in nursing mode with my girl. Off to check vital signs and change gauze.....

Mom Hat

This morning I woke at 6am to my obnoxious, but certain to wake me, alarm clock in mid-thought: "I need to bring a bucket and a roll of paper towels in the car tomorrow morning in case Emma gets sick on our way home from surgery..."

Apparently I am trying to prepare for every potential outcome, while sleeping! I feel less than rested, and I blame this "sleep prep", although I think daylight savings has "cost" me some energy as well. Still, it got me thinking about how difficult it is to hold my children loosely. Last night one of our pastor's spoke about joy coming through sorrow, and gave this example about how they trap monkey's in Taiwan. (Stick with me, this is going somewhere) So, what they do to trap a monkey is build a box with slats in the top, big enough for a monkey to just slide his hands down into. Inside the box, they put a banana. I'm guessing the monkey can see the banana- that part was unclear, but I digress. Okay, once the monkey slides his hands down in the box and finds the banana, he grabs onto it, excited to have some "easy food". And now he is trapped, because he can't get his hands back out AND keep the banana. Amazing. Trapped, yet all he has to do is let go. Now, I'd like to believe I'm more clever than a monkey, but.....

So back to Emma. She will have surgery tomorrow morning. My "mom hat" will be firmly on all day. I've taken off work, bought soft foods, planned an easy dinner for tomorrow so I can give her most of my attention, made sure we're stocked on Ibuprofen and as of 6 am this morning, have my mental list of what I need to bring in the car with us. Now after all that, my job is to let go? Really?

I have decided for me, trusting God with my kids comes down to believing that He loves them more than I do. AND He will allow suffering in their lives only to the extent that it is necessary to accomplish His good purpose in and through them. I hate that reality, if I'm honest. I don't mind the suffering in my own life, nearly as much as I mind it for my kids. But, just as God allowed His own son to suffer on our behalf, I have to let go and trust Him with the pain and hurt my kids go through. A long time ago, when I was a very young mom, a wise lady in my life told me this: "It's not our job to protect our children from all pain. It is our job to teach them where to go with that pain."

So what about you? Where have you learned to let go with your kids? Where have you found yourself trapped, unable to let go?

Baseball Cap to Begin

I must confess I only own one real hat. It's a brown baseball cap with a pink monogram of my initials in the middle. It's cute, but I rarely wear it.

In thinking about a blog, I wanted to write about all the roles women struggle to manage well. I thought about how we have so many metaphorical hats, and I love the idea of walking into a hat shop and seeing all the different hats for all sorts of occasions: fanciful and feathery ones, wide-brimmed sun bonnets for relaxing, practical work related hats, cozy warm winter wear and on and on. A shop like this is called a Millinery. So in part, I want this blog to reflect how all the roles in the life of a woman are important, in their own ways. There are some hats we all wear, others that we may never choose, but can certainly admire. Some hats are fun to put on, some are uncomfortable and unnatural at first and still others, we simply need to practice wearing a bit to get the hang of it. I hope to write about them all through the lens of my personal experiences and from a perspective of one seeking to glorify God in whatever role He places me in.

So, as part of my blogging journey I will be as authentic (as is appropriate) in sharing the highs and lows of my life as a woman, and I'd love for you to share yours with me as well. Kind of like in a millinery, all the women admire, help and coax one another on as each tries on hats. My hope is that we can all encourage each other to wear our hats well- both with confidence and in humility. If there is a particular hat you struggle to keep on, send me a comment and we'll see if we can find some instruction from God's word and wise women around us, on how to handle it. In general, my hope is this blog will be an uplifting and interactive atmosphere for women of all ages and stages.