Decisions, Decisions…..

You know those decisions that you have to make over and over?  Those decisions that you think you have settled and then the wind blows and fear sets in and you change your mind?  Those decisions that you have somehow managed to convince yourself could alter the path of the planets?  Those decisions that cause you to get out the pen and paper and make the pros/cons list?  Those decisions that a negative word from a friend can send you in a totally different direction? Yes, maybe you know the ones.

I have been wrestling with some decisions like that.  At least , in my mind I have given them that weight. If I believed that God got tired of us asking the same things over and over (which I don’t by the way), then he would surely be done with listening to me!




Here’s the dilemma.  I am a teacher and I love teaching. Since second grade, I have known that this was my calling.  I also love science.  The subject fascinates and energizes me.  I love being a mama.  To say that I am energized by it wouldn’t be true. I am exhausted by my family all while being amazed by the way that I love them…and in awe that they believe that my kisses and “love pats” have magical powers.   Tucking those little sweet feet into bed and covering up sweet babies during the night brings me nothing but pure joy.  Allowing them to sleep in until they wake up singing “Twinkle twinkle little star” to one another makes me wake with a smile.  Having the time to listen to my son playing the guitar and singing along is so enjoyable. Being able to stay up and visit if my oldest stops by is so nice. On the contrary, the 5:30 alarm wakes me with a panic.  The anxiety that comes over me on Sunday nights as I prepare for another work week causes my entire being to become panicked.  The exhaustion that I feel at 3:30 after dealing with 90 unique personalities, all while trying to teach them science, just can’t be sugarcoated over as anything except TIRED!  Now I know there is nothing wrong with being tired and I am certainly not lazy.  I don’t know how to explain it but if you deal with other people’s children, then I don’t have to.

Being a stay at home mama isn’t very profitable, at least if you are talking finances.  So here I go with myself round and round.  Do I enjoy these little years to the fullest or do I keep up this rat race? I wish I had the answers friends. Again, at times I believe I do.  I am praying for clarity, for peace, and for whatever decision that is made to be the right one.  My goal is to raise Godly children.  I don’t want to give my family what is left of me.  They deserve the best of me and with either decision, I pray that I can fulfill my role of wife and mother in a way that brings glory to God for all that he has blessed me with.

To be continued…….

Being a Moma

It has been a long time since I have written here..and I miss it.  Thoughts roll around in my head. They pound to get out.  They get pushed aside. I fall asleep overwhelmed with all that I have done, with all there is to do. My mind is crowded. I think I have serious “brain fog” and I am not sure how to get rid of it!  Anyway, here I am.  Here I am to pound it out onto this keyboard.  As the last of my dishes sit in the sink.  As the clothes to be folded mound on the couch.  As the dryer finishes up uniforms that need to be hung for tomorrow…I will write.
I have learned a lot since I last wrote. My oldest son graduated from high school last May.  My child who just started to crawl walked across a stage and made me so proud when he received his diploma and graduated with honors.  My little boy who needed help to reach the pedals on his red tricycle yesterday is now flying airplanes…big real ones that leave the ground.  Going “up up up” is not something that I read to him in a storybook anymore.  It is really where he goes when he packs that suitcase.  He is in another state tonight in a hotel room on a job related trip.  As of last weekend, he has an apartment.  How in the world will I know when he falls asleep?  How will I know if his room is too cold or too hot?  Does he have an alarm set?  He has been independent for some time so this is not ALL new….but it still stings when I write it or say it out loud.  He has wanted to be grown since he was in kindergarten….and now he is.  I am so proud of him and so thankful for his successes. Time…you did your thing.
My youngest son (the baby for 10 years) is growing up too fast. He is almost as tall as I am.  He sings and plays his guitar with a passion that I feel sure is straight from the Holy Spirit.  With each chord he sings, his voice seems to become a little deeper.  How could I not be proud?  He is living out what I have whispered over him since I was buckling him in his car seat. “Be in the world and not of it.”  Time is pressing on and he will be in high school next year.
My sweet LG started preschool. She brought me to tears last night. I climbed into the bed with her and she said “You are the best moma in the whole world.”  I replied “and you are the best four year old in the whole world.”  Then she said “I don’t want to grow up to be a lady because you won’t be my moma like this.”  Break my heart…..put it back together again. What you don’t know sweet daughter is that you are mine forever.  You are my daughter.  You are part of my heart walking around here on Earth and I will always, always be your moma like this.
Annabeth and Amelia still believe that Henry and I hung the moon.  Their belief that my kisses really make “owies” better is humbling.  When Annabeth reaches up and says “I want to hold you” just so that she can wrap those skinny little legs around me….heavenly.  Amelia’s funny expressions and her bass voice just keep us laughing.  Her belly laugh is contagious.  They are always together.  Annabeth looks for “Nina” and Amelia looks for “Efeth” constantly.  That love.  That love of sisters.  Knowing you don’t have to be lonely. You have a best friend.  I pray they always remain close.  Sharing. Listening. Most of all….Loving.
I love you my children.  You make me who I am.  You were all designed perfectly to be my children.  My love for you is unconditional.  My love for you will always remain. It is closer than the kissing hand.  It is farther than the moon and back.  It is greater than anything that you can imagine.  Only God could love you more…and He does.  We do……love you.




It started with an egg

No, this is not a post about infertility.  Goodness gracious, I don’t know anything about that.  This post is about my meltdown caused by an egg….a dozen of them to be exact.




Here is a little background . :)We have successfully attended our Sunday school class approximately three times since the birth of the twins but someone hasn’t taken us off of the email list so I guess they believe there is still hope for us.  I got an email from our Sunday school leader’s wife, a sweet friend, asking for help to feed the family members of another class member whose father had passed away.  I really do enjoy serving by sending meals to those who need them.  I already have to cook and it is such a simple way to help.  With that in mind, I told Henry the date and asked him if he would be able to drop it off at the church.  “Yes, we should do that” he replied.  I told him again when I was updated that the location to bring the food had been changed.  After picking up Haigan from the church pool party, I went to WalMart to pick up the (demon-possessed) eggs and a dessert.

I have made deviled eggs probably no less than 50 times…..successfully.  These eggs were different.  These eggs had obviously heard the not so loving conversation that I had with Henry once I got home when he revealed to me that he had a meeting all day which had been scheduled for a while.  He wouldn’t be able to drop off the food.  They boiled, they were rinsed with cool water.  I started to peel them…and the white started to ravel like a poorly sewn hem.  First one, I thought oh well…that is why you make more than you need.  I’ll eat that one. (I usually offer these to Henry but I was ticked at him – He wasn’t getting any!)  Second, third, fourth….

Defeated, I sat down to email my friend to tell her that the devil had truly taken over my “deviled” eggs.  Henry, meanwhile, was devising his own plan to use any staff member available to take this food by the church.  Each plan he came up with made me more frustrated.  My sweet friend said that they had plenty of food. I assured her that if they did not, I would call Domino’s!  We both got a laugh at that.

With tears in my eyes, I moved on past that silly little failure.  Things seem so huge when you are in the middle of them!

Bless his heart, my husband called again this morning still trying to figure out how he could help me get food to this funeral.

He is a good man, a great father, and a caring husband.  BUT he will not be getting any deviled eggs for a while!

One of the cult

And thank you, Amy, for picking up a pie to take for me! 🙂