Everyday Life: Low Battery Warning

Lately, in my mothering, I've been feeling like a laptop whose battery has been pretty well zapped.

It's like no amount of charging keeps me going; I'm completely drained ten minutes after I'm unplugged from whatever source I was finding power to keep on mothering these beautifully challenging souls.

Maybe it's a phase {oh, please tell me it's a phase}, but lately, one of my boys has two switches: emo and high octane emo.

Um, so do boys enter the pre-teen years now starting at age almost 6? {Related: I buy organic dairy and meat, free of hormones, so I thought I was taking care of this whole early on-set puberty thing ...}

Also, if boys are this emo, then really having two sons is not a consolation for not having a daughter who is emotionally charged, so the next person who tells me that, well, they're in for an earful. Because, friends, I can personally attest to a boy being quite moody over the Light Saber he's sporting or, consequently, not sporting. It's nothing short of a full-fledge trauma here.

Maybe it's summer {oh, please DON'T tell me it's summer!} that's brought my formerly helpful 5.75 year old into a fit of emotionally driven turmoil over a certain pair of shorts not being clean?

{Yes, please tell me again about that daughter thing?}

Or, perhaps, it's a developmental leap nearing? Maybe his quickly approaching summer birthday is sending us him into fits of heavy emotion?

Whatever it is, it was wearing thin on my patience before my husband left for Paris last weekend.

So you can imagine what kind of ice everyone is skating on now, right?

If you said "NO ICE because it's SUMMER and your husband is in Paris" ... well, now you're tracking with me.

My friends, there's no ice left here. NO PROVERBIAL ICE!

We're hanging on here ONLY because God graciously gave me the best in laws and mother a girl who currently has no battery life could ask for and multiple friends who have extended hands of care and offers of dinner and play and rescue and cinnamon rolls. Reread that part before you send reinforcements or try to "save" my children from their crazy mother. We have been cared for! I repeat. We have been cared for above and beyond, and it's enough to get us all through safely to ....

the home stretch now, yes. We are close. We are closing in on John's re-entry to the real world where the Effiel Tower is 4,140 miles away {what? like you don't measure how far away your husband is when he's gone?} and the only things that are really towering above anyone in this house are two little boys will be giggling while standing over the mother who is lying on the floor, waving her white flag of surrender to the phase or the summer or the developmental leap or whatever it was that reared its ugly head these past few weeks.

And probably the only thing that sweet hubby of mine will hear from my lips that are smooshed against the wood floor are pleas for

a glass of wine without any accompanying whine

and begging that those piano lessons we're going to be forking out money for will at least lead to us having a *good* emo band practicing in our garage in the near future here.

Thinking, That's All: A Message

My five year old asked incredulously how I hear God's voice whisper to me.

"Does He call you on the phone?" G questioned. "How do I get Him to call me on the phone?"

I shake my head and share that hearing from God isn't like G getting a phone call from one of his grandparents, but that when I hear a message from Him, it's loud and clear and it usually comes from reading the Bible and reading the exact right verse at the exact right moment in time or having an impromptu scripture-infused conversation with someone in the perfect time and space.

I kissed G goodbye later that morning, and I headed to work before venturing off to get the first of some blood tests aimed at measuring my pregnancy hormones.

****

When I arrived at work, one of my co-workers asked me excitedly if what she'd just read on Facebook meant I was pregnant right now. I smiled and said yes as she asked if I was planning on sharing the news with our senior pastor during our meeting in just a few moments ... so I shared. He prayed for us and thanked God for our new little life, and then we began our meeting after a little more conversation about Christmas and other goodness.

Every week, I have the privilege of asking Pastor Joe what's on his mind and bringing it to our church family via our blog and facebook.

Little did Pastor Joe know, as he gathered his thoughts before our meeting, that he would be speaking to my heart a message from the Lord, as I wrestled between faith and fear in the face of our testing and waiting to see if my pregnancy would progress and bring us a long-hoped for baby come end of summer.

I just have to share it with you:

Isaiah 41:9-10
"I took you from the ends of the earth, from its farthest corners I called you. I said, ‘You are my servant’; I have chosen you and have not rejected you. So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

One day, when he's just a little bit older, I'll share this post with G.

And we'll revel in God's goodness

to talk to ordinary people just like us

without ever making the phone ring.