This always happen when I get behind on writing. I sift and sift and sort through all the pictures … and it gets overwhelming … and I can’t figure out how to record it all without taking hours and hours and pages and pages of text … and so I do nothing.
So even though it kills me to let some events slide, I’m going to try the scrapbook approach here and just jump in where I’m at and catch up later if I can. We’ll see …
First Snow
A few weeks back we got hit with four storms in four days. The first one hit at 4:53 pm on Friday night.
The next morning, we woke up to this:
We spent the next few hours enjoying a lazy, cozy-up-and-get-warm morning as the kids watched cartoons … and ran through the tub …
… and wondered at the snow-covered branches and roof-tops …
… and drank hot chocolate …
… and read one of my favorite stories that Grandma Fife used to read to me, The Littlest Snowman …
… and drank in how much I love my kids, especially when I see them together.
I love this picture. No, I really, really love this picture.
I love it because I managed to capture something magical in action. Dylan was diagnosed six years ago the week I took this shot. At the time Dylan was out of control, non-verbal and very aggressive towards Cam and Savannah. I was terrified and worn out, practically a prisoner in my own house. And I wondered if our family situation would ever be bearable.
Six years later Dylan is my go-to kid. He is in almost every way a typical oldest child. He helps out. He steps up. He is always there when I need him. But most of all, he is a protector. And when it comes to his baby sister, he is her defender. He is the one who makes sure she’s buckled in the car or safe inside. He gets her drinks and gets her toys and on this morning, he was right there to get her a chair so she could hop up to the window and watch the snow. And he stayed right with her talking and laughing and teaching our last angel everything she needs to know about winter. And oh how she loves him for it.
And I was once again reminded that the wonder of the first snow never, ever looses it’s magic.
Refuel
My friend Shannon sent out a Facebook message a week or so ago inviting all the ladies in the neighborhood to run away for a few hours on a Friday night for Girls Night Out. And as soon as I saw her message, I thought, “I NEED THIS.”
But that day was crazy … and when Ben came home the house was still a mess … and I had a posted due the next morning … and I felt so guilty for not being able to get it together and juggle everything on my plate … and there seemed like so many things more important to spend money on than Mexican food …
… but Hubs is amazing …
… and he just smiled as my worn out, exhausted tears and frustration tumbled out … and he told me I needed to go … and that a the money for a taco and a Diet Coke was way cheaper than a mental health co-pay at our doctor’s office …
… and so I went.
And it was so, so good.
And funny as hell.
Because 75 minutes after walking in and being randomly jammed into three really cramped booths, all 17 of us cranky, hungry women walked out of this terrible spot and went over to the restaurant we should have gone to in the first place. It’s a really long story about the world’s worst costumer service and nightmare wait times and running out of rice, beans, guacamole, clean utensils and unburned food.
But thank heavens for do-overs.
At the second place, this huge group of woman huddled around one massive row of tables squished together and spent the next two hours laughing and talking and sharing and encouraging and refueling. And as I listened and relaxed and drank in the company of all of these amazing, wonderful woman around me, I felt so much of the frustration and weight bleed away. And slowly, as drinks were refilled and entrees disappeared, that battery inside me that had long since been drained, began to recharge.
And I doubt I was the only one who felt that way.
Because all of us lingered at the table … and around the table once we stood up to leave … and in the reception area near the door. And even though I never got a single shot of that moment, I can still see it now. And I can still hear their voices and laughter and feel the encouragement flowing around that table, and remembering that keeps me fueled.
Tradition
After missing the last few years of Bill and Terri’s chocolate dipping party, we rolled out late Saturday afternoon as soon as Ben got home from a rare Saturday at work.
And for that part of me that has been fiercely missing the house in Redmond and Grandpa Litchfield this holiday season, being surrounded with bustling bodies and kids and chocolates and Christmas fed my spirit even more.
Balance
Starting THRIVE in October has been amazing. The response has been great and so have the emails from complete strangers sharing their family’s story. I’m realizing that underneath the “all’s well” front, there are a lot of women out there going through the exact same thing as me.
But this really and truly is a full time job from home that brings with it the shock to our daily routine. And I’m struggling … struggling to find balance in it all … struggling to try and keep the house even slightly pulled together … struggling to work on the Christmas projects for my own house and family and kids … struggling to keep up with the kids’ homework and reading and assignments and projects and failing pretty miserably. I find myself pinging wildly from one extreme to the other as I daily feel the pendulum swinging away from a balanced center.
I was scrolling through pictures the other day, I realized that of the last 1200 shots, there are less than 50 of my kids—they’ve all been for Thrive. I haven’t posted Thursday pictures the last few weeks, simply because I had nothing to put up. And as I thought on that … and saw the piles of crap and projects and laundry and everything else scattered around the house … and felt the totally self-induced stress mounting from projects that only I was driven to complete, I realized I need run like hell back towards the middle.
So I emailed the webmaster for a popular blog that I was supposed to guest host at and said that I wouldn’t be available until after the holidays …
… and immediately, the pendulum started to swing back …
… and then I loaded up the littlest three and blew off Kade’s kindergarten class and headed to Walmart to do, well, anything. I needed Christmas. I needed a Saturday adventure, even if it was Tuesday. And I needed to fill my time with memories of getting ready for the holidays instead of spending every second on work. On the way to Walmart I called Ben on his cell and explained through and unexpected rush of tears that I needed to step back and focus a whole lot more on our family …
… and that pendulum continued to drop back towards the middle …
… and with it came that rush of peace that the Spirit brings as an explanation point to moments like this. And so I rolled into to Walmart happy and joyful, even after Ash fell into the steering wheel on her way out of the car and got a bloody lip …
… or when Kade and Sean started throwing rocks at dead flowers which apparently is okay because they’re “not throwing rocks at dead people.”
I felt overwhelmed with the knowledge and confidence that I had got it right—got the message the Lord was trying to get through to me right (even if it took me a bit to recognize it). I knew that spending an afternoon looking at Christmas tree displays and toys and holiday treats and clearance Thanksgiving decor was exactly what everyone needed.
It was awesome, even though the kids got really, really ornery at the end. And even though I couldn’t get them down for naps fast enough when we got home, the balance was right—the focus was right.
I’m not sure how much I’ll actually work on Thrive this next week. I’m torn on that in some ways, but I can’t afford to screw up this one, wonderful, amazing chance to raise TDHD. Thrive was inspired and I am reminded each day just how much the Lord has brought this new venture into my life. But it will always be an appendage and secondary mission to that of a mother. Right now it feels like I need to just step back and use this time to pray and study and enjoy this holiday season and trust that the inspiration will come to know how to move forward each day with the right balance of priorities.
I’m learning … I’m being lead … I’m being taught. And slowly … in random ways … I’m getting closer to that place of balance.
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