Out of the Mouths of Babes

Full disclosure here. What you are about to read is something I wrote six years ago. The actual scene on the toilet happened about three years before that. It’s a memory that always makes me smile and causes me to remember a couple of things: 1) what we allow in our minds will one day come out of our mouths and 2) people are watching us and being influenced by our words and actions whether we know it or not. Be mindful folks!!

If you’ve read this before, I hope you’ll enjoy it once again. If this little story is brand new to you , thanks for taking a few minutes out of your day to go back in time with me!

It was a busy day like all the rest. Meals to prepare. Laundry to finish. Faces to wipe. Diapers to change. Songs to sing. Games to play. Books to read. Crafts to complete. Hugs to give. Learning to guide.

During one of those really busy moments, I heard a sweet little voice coming from the bathroom…

“Mrs. Becky I’m done! Come help me please”

“Just a minute Sweetie. I’ll be there in a second” (I was in the midst of a very important load of laundry, you know!)

So I commenced with my laundry rotation . But because it was so quiet and because my brain was so full of things I needed to get done, instead of going straight to the bathroom to offer whatever assistance little Sweetie needed, I walked into the kitchen to wipe the counters or some other truly unimportant task. Then I heard it. A sound coming from the bathroom….

Leaving a 3 year old in need of assistance in a bathroom could’ve resulted in many different scenarios. There could’ve been toilet paper pulled completely off the roll and scattered all over the floor. There could’ve been hand soap smeared all over the mirror as torrents of water spilled over the sink. There could’ve been other things that were far worse and harder to clean up!  But what I found was almost as shocking.

She was sitting on the potty, patiently waiting for me……SINGING! I stood just outside the bathroom door and listened, trying to make out the song she was entertaining herself with. It wasn’t Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. It wasn’t the ABC Song. It wasn’t even Itsy Bitsy Spider. As I tuned up my ears, what I heard nearly brought a tear to my eye……

Come on and rain down on us. Rain down us Lord.”

Over and over…….

When I opened the door all the way to see this precious angel, she was not only singing this praise song, her hands were in the air and her eyes were closed. I promise…..I’m not making this up!!!

girl-in-rain

Not your normal every day preschool sing along song but I was deep in the midst of preparing music for a women’s retreat. In trying to learn this new song I would be leading, I played it ad nauseum throughout the day. It was our lunch music. It was our dancing music. We made up hand motions for the song. And within a very short time, not only did I finally know the song, the children I kept during the day obviously had it memorized and were ready to spout it out like a fountain in moments of boredom!

:::S I G H:::

As I think back on this day, it causes me to stop and think of the stuff that flows out of my mouth…especially during those times I’m not getting my way or I’m having to be super patient. Is it as sweet as chocolate flowing from a fountain or is it as smelly and nasty as garbage falling out of a garbage truck hitting a speed bump? Am I singing praises or spouting ugliness? Am I lifting up those around me or crushing their spirits?

Then I have to stop and think….when my responses in times of waiting are , well, less than stellar, what am I filling my head with during the day? Because you know, what goes in, must come out. Sweet chocolate or disgusting garbage.

chocolate_fountain_strawberry_grape_sweet-hd-wallpaper-590449

Mmmmm….I like chocolate sauce!

When the baby just won’t stop crying, am I sitting in a corner crying with him or am I mustering up all the love I can find to bring comfort?

When the teenager is shoveling around an attitude that he surely picked up from who knows where , am I shoveling it back at him or am I responding back with grace and love?

When I’ve waited too long in line and my feet hurt and I can’t stand it one more minute…..or my patience has worn thin…..or it’s just been a long day and I want some quiet…..how am I responding to those who need or even demand my attention? How are YOU?

That initial gut reaction can so quickly become something you’ll regret….something you probably will wish you could take back. When I think of Little Miss Sweetness in the bathroom, she could’ve so easily changed her response to my lack of immediate attention by, oh, I don’t know…playing in the toilet, making a mess of the bathroom, screaming out of impatience, crying from unbearable boredom. But earlier in the day, she had been filled with a simple song that overflowed from her heart and when she needed it most, she reached into her tank

and poured out praise….

                                                              she poured out love….

she poured out thankfulness

I’m gonna close this little blog post with a video. It’s the song we were listening to that day and so many days before then. To this day, every time I hear this song I still think of that sweet baby girl waiting on me ever so patiently, singing like a little angel , praising Jesus in her own way…..from the toilet of all places. And I’m reminded how I need to work on waiting more patiently for attitudes to change , for things to work out as God wants them to, for each storm to pass. And I’m also reminded of how much I need to fill my fountain with good things so that when I need it most, the good things will flow out and splash on everyone within my reach!

Are your fountains flowing out “Chocolate” or “garbage”? Let’s choose chocolate!

Doing Christmas Well When All the Kids are Adulting

I look around my house at all the signs of Christmas approaching. The tree in the corner brightly lit. The garland on the mantle with stockings hung with care underneath. The wreaths on the front door and windows. Scattered nativities to remind us of the birth of Christ. Snowmen to remind us there’s rarely any blasted snow in Georgia!! Gosh, that reminds me of the Christmas my #4 kid was three years old. First, we had to wake him up on Christmas morning to run downstairs for present time. What three year old has to be woken up on Christmas morning? And second, he thought we were fooling him that it was Christmas because when he ran to the window he saw no snow! And how could it be Christmas without snow?? Little goof ball actually climbed back into bed!! Oh my! He’s gotten used to brown grassy Christmas time in the 18 years that have passed since that morning! We just live in a big snow-less bubble!!

In spite of the fact that I have seven whimsical stockings hanging, each with their own child appealing design on the front, all five of our kids have grown up and are adulting like bosses these days. Yes, these are the stockings I purchased at Michael’s back in 1998. Yet every year I have this inner debate with myself over whether or not to gift these stockings to their much older owners or just continue the tradition of hanging them in order on our mantle. Each year, “continue the tradition” seems to be the winner. Because as non-traditional as I am sometimes….as much as I attempt to live in each present moment…these stockings are the holder of so many Christmas memories from the childhood of my five. And I hang on to them. Why not? I loved Christmas with my own 5-pack of adorable kidlets at home. I miss it to be honest. Christmas isn’t the same without the pitter patter of their little feet racing to the tree on Christmas morning.

It’s just not. Not whining here. Just stating facts and all!

With that said, while I embrace the memories held in each Santa stocking, I am also learning to embrace each new moment of Christmas-ing with my adult kids. We’ve had to start new traditions. Sometimes each year has been the beginning of a new tradition….no biggie! We’ve had to bend a bit. That’s OK…God made us flexible on purpose! But all this has lead to doing Christmas well with these amazing grown up people!

So I don’t stomp my feet and insist on having Christmas my way!! I cringe at the thought of creating that much stress for my family!! Stress is born when a momma holds on too tightly to wanting all the Christmas things to remain the same year after ever-lovin’ year !!! That would get boring, right? But I’m not gonna lie. If I could have all my babies and their babies under my roof every merry Christmas Eve night , I would be happy as a kid who just found Santa’s workshop! But the last thing I want to do is put pressure on my sweet things who are trying to make more people happy than just me. So come here New Way of Doing Christmas! Let me give you a big old hug!

I’ve also found this year the need to be more flexible with the day and time of our family celebrations. We celebrated Thanksgiving the weekend before Turkey Day because of conflicting work schedules. It felt a bit weird in the planning but when that Sunday came, I found a Macy’s parade on YouTube that we watched , the Cowboys were playing football and nothing about the day felt less than completely Thanksgiving-y! Tiny changes in our Christmas celebration will happen as well because sometimes ya gotta share your people. And that’s OK! Sharing is caring and all that. I think we all learned that when we were kids!

Truth is, though, I’m not certain if I’ll ever stop missing my kids being little at Christmas. Not a Christmas has gone by since my kids started growing up and adulting that I haven’t had at least one “moment” in my darkened living room as I sat basking in the glow of the lights from the tree. A cozy fire roaring in the fireplace. A lone tear escaping my eyes. Memories flooding back of my own childhood Christmases, blurring lines with remembrances of the joy I felt each Christmas with my own small children.

Have you ever done this? If you have, know it’s OK because now you know at least one more person who does the same. We don’t ever want to forget the good memories we made with our young families. But living in the moment as we build new memories is honestly just as amazing. I can look forward to each new Christmas no matter how we “do” it. The other night, my man and I hopped in the car by ourselves with no children buckled in anywhere and toured the neighborhoods in our town so we could ooo and aah at their spectacular light displays.

I also bought Christmas cards for the first time in a bazillion years. Pictured on our” re-entrance to holiday card sharing ” is just me and my man. Just us. None of our kids. None of our grandkids. Felt weird…but also very accepting of our empty-ish nest status.

I’ve known forever that Christmas isn’t about the things we do to bring on the Christmas feels. I’ve known forever that the true meaning of Christmas is Jesus….God sending His Son as an adorable baby with a mission to be our Savior. So part of doing this Christmas season well is letting my focus be more on that and less on what my now vintage stockings remind me I’m missing.

Because even in the memories of “1990’s and 2000’s Christmas” is Jesus. In the “right now Christmas” is Jesus. He’s the only thing with any amount of consistency. He’s always the right answer. Especially when the house is too quiet. And when our row at church, which used to hold all seven of us, feels empty. When we’re singing Christmas carols off key by ourselves. And when those grown up kids we love so much may not even see in person the stockings we hung just for them. Jesus is in it all. Always and forever.

So Merry Christmas to the young and those who will always be young at heart. Happy Holidays to one and all.

Until next time, keep clamoring with all the holly jolly you have!

Not Exactly Yesterday

Not Exactly Yesterday

Our oldest son had a birthday this week. I remember the day he was born like it happened this morning. The weird thing about this is while this memory from 26 years ago is immediate, I have to stop and think a minute about what I had for dinner last night. Can I get an amen from my other 50-something’s ?!?

Son #1 was actually due on my birthday. One of those biggies with a zero at the end. I think about turning 30 and how old that made me feel at the time. It must’ve been all the raging pregnant hormones! Thirty is awesome! But exiting my 20’s just felt huge. Like I was suddenly gonna wake up into a brand new level of maturity and experience I didn’t have even the day before. I think I’ve felt that way with each passing year but as I approach this next birthday that will launch me to the other side of my mid-50’s, I think I’m over feeling ancient over the calendar changes. That was so 26 years ago! Maybe!

But I digress. That mid July day in 1993 started like most of my summer pregnant days. It was four million degrees in our corner of Georgia…at least. And the humidity was just as bad. I’m sure my hair was awful as I drove my enormously pregnant self to my doctor’s appointment that Friday morning. (FYI…. I’ve slept a few times since this day and may not remember this part exactly right. My Man may have gone with me and been in the drivers seat. We may have even stopped for donuts on the way! Who knows?? ) I was just happy to have the morning off work. I planned on dilly dallying and getting to work really late. I didn’t know as I buckled my seat belt that morning just how long my delay back to work would be! My doctor gladly cooperated with my dilly dally plan. Seemed I was in labor. (I had a tendency to be in labor and not know it…please don’t hate me mommas !) He sent me immediately to the hospital, likely afraid I’d spit out this baby over the weekend and totally ruin his golf plans! My labor with this third child of mine was the roughest and the fastest. Sweet baby boy nearly came while the doctor left me in the “c section recovery room” to find me a real labor suite. The full moon had labor and delivery packed to the gills and I was far from the first one there ! There was nearly “no room in the inn”! My man had also left the room to go tell his mom what was going on. Now before anyone goes bashing these men for leaving a laboring woman all alone, all was well when they left. In the 10 minutes they were gone,however, this sweet child of mine got in a real big hurry and was almost born with no audience! Yikes! But the doctor returned just in time to deliver my bouncing baby boy!

Oh the memories! It really IS hard to believe 26 years have passed. But then I think about all that has changed since 1993 and it feels like eons ago.

In 1993, the average cost of a new house was $113,200. The price of a gallon of gas was around $1.16. It cost $4.00 to go see Jurassic Park or Sleepless in Seattle in a theater. And we had to see it in the theater because , well, no Netflix or Amazon Prime Of course we could wait for movies to come to Blockbuster, but the pressure to “be kind and rewind” or to return said movies on time was large! Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey could be heard blaring from our car radio speakers. Bill Clinton was president but had not yet “not had sexual relations” with that woman. The World Wide Web was still a tiny baby . Cell phones as we know them today were still a dream but big boxy car phones were all the rage if you were well-to-do. When new parents took photos of their babes, they held their breaths and hoped for a decent shot because they wouldn’t be able to see the picture until the film was developed. Commodore released the Amiga CD32 and Atari had the Jaguar. But the Playstation was still a year away.

And of course, there was Sears Portrait studio for all your baby’s first professional photo needs. Don’t you love how they disguised my steadying mommy arm with that amazing furry backdrop?

Today I look at my 6ft 2 son and wonder where the time went. I mean,wasn’t I just swaddling him and laying him in his Jenny Lind crib; just singing our made up “big buddy buckle up ” song every time we got in the car; just packing his little backpack for school ? But that car phone thing? That makes me feel like we walked with dinosaurs back then and I realize 26 years ago wasn’t exactly “yesterday”.

A lot has changed over the years. But one thing has remained constant. The days may feel like they’re dragging … especially when the crying seems to never end and you’ve stepped on the 110th Lego and they won’t eat their peas even with cheese sauce and they roll their eyes at you one more time…

But the years are short.

In the blink of an eye, that adorable baby becomes a curious toddler who turns into a messy elementary kid who barrels into teenage rebellion. And before you know it, he’s a grown, married man with a job and bills to pay and little furry mouths to feed. Just as it should be.

So parents of yunguns, cherish those moments . Even the ones that make you want to claw your eyes out in frustration. Stop wishing time away. Stop always looking forward to the next amazing thing your child will do and simply enjoy the things they ARE doing. Now. In this moment. We can get so wrapped up in the next best thing that we don’t even see the now best thing. And I bet that even in those pesky pre-teen years where they’re trying so hard to be the boss of themselves and they’re on your last nerve all. the. time…..even then there’s something they’re doing that’s their now best thing. Find it. Love it. Brag on it. And in the proper time, you’ll all gracefully slide into the next little piece of greatness .

So Time, thank you I guess. Thank you for faithfully doing your thing and always marching on. Thank you Time for the weird ways you cause us to think you’ve stopped because those moments are filled with delightful memories. Thank you for the times that drag and for the times that seem to move forward too quickly.

And to that little boy who grew up too fast (and all his siblings) and to all the other children who seem to do the same …. my prayer for you…

“May God bless you and keep you. May God smile on you and gift you. May God look you full in the face and make you prosper.”

Until next time…