Do you even know who you are??

Here's something maybe like, one or two of you can relate to... 

When I was in my 20s, I was very career-minded. So career-minded, in fact, that I pretty much just worked, ate, and slept. Through college and early adulthood, I dumped all my hobbies; lots of friendships; and basically just put my nose to the grindstone day-in and day-out to bust out some goals and benchmarks and all that other corporate bologna. And, when I wasn't working, I was thinking about my next career move and my next degree - which never happened because every time I started a masters or licensure program, I ended up being pregnant again. I think God was trying to clue me in and I just wasn't getting it. At any rate, when I was so incredibly, unbelievably, amazingly please don't ever ever make me go back to work blessed to quit my job and the end of 2011...I came home to be with my kids, full-time! 

And pretty soon after my first day as a stay-at-home-mom, I was all..."What the crap am I going to do now?" I haven't been unemployed for more than a couple weeks time since I was SIXTEEN. Who. Am. I. 

What. The. Crap. 

And, when I say "what am I going to do?" I don't mean - "what am I going to do every day?" Though I did have a lot of make-up work to do when it came to full-time parenting. I mean, in the event that I do get second to sit down, what are my hobbies? What do I even like to do now besides drink coffee and wear yoga pants? I know. So basic. It had been SO LONG since I did anything besides work, I kind of really didn't know what to do with myself outside normal parental duties. 

More coffee, anyone? 

It was just a strange awakening of sorts and I had to re-figure out my interests. I love music, so my iPod was quickly filled with things to listen to. I started this blog because, duh, I paid a lot of money to get an English degree. Might as well use it. And then, one day, when my kids were doing some art projects at the kitchen table and instead of asking them, every five seconds, to mind their messes I sat down with them. I quickly remembered the hours and hours I spent while growing up (and I mean every day for hours) drawing to pass time or to wind-down. I noticed our oldest daughter's love for art - and she is really good at it! It felt great to encourage her as she created. My love for drawing came back seemingly at once. Our art closet was soon filled with notepads and pens and a bazillion markers and paints; trips to Michael's were many and my Pinterest boards were overflowing with ideas.

Zentangle drawing with Pitt Pens 

I absolutely love drawing. I love that it's something I can do to wind down and share with my kids as they wind down as well. We love creating together even if we are working on separate projects. There's just something about being in community, working alongside one another, and putting our imaginations on paper. The conversation is good. The outcome is always fun to see, analyze, and discuss. I love seeing what our kids come up with. It helps me understand them even better. We get to talk about all of the art-lovers in our family and all of the different kinds of art in the world. I'm not into sports and, at 33, there's really no chance of that changing. BUT, every one of our kids from the oldest to youngest loves art. I am so glad that's something we can share and do together. 

Zentangle with Pitt Pens and Prismacolor Markers

A lot of times, we have been in career-mode or mom-mode for SO LONG that we simply forget our own interests and who God made us to be. I'm not talking about having some mid-life independent woman freakout. It's not that at all. Remember the gifts you've been given and share those with your children! Let them see your abilities and how you work to improve; get them involved, too. It's a great way to tighten the parent/child bonds, promote community, discipline and it opens doors for communication as well. So, whatever your interests (so long as they are constructive and age-appropriate, that is) share them with your kids! Chances are, they will share some of the same and it will draw you closer, still. 

Free-style drawing and lettering with watercolor pencils and Pitt Pens. 

Attention: Blessings may be closer than they appear.

If I had to rank each day on a scale of difficulty, 1-10, with 10 being the type of day where I'd like to start chain smoking, yesterday was about a 12. As a whole, it wasn't like they formed a mob and rose up against me or anything, just a few things happened that nearly sent me over the edge. And, you should know, I'm not one that tarries particularly close to the edge. It really takes a lot.

It was cold, dark and rainy yesterday so we were stuck inside all day long. After half-a-day of this, the minions start getting restless and that's when trouble sometimes ensues. The baby (two-year-old) was all dreaming up sugar plums up in her bed; one child was watching a movie; one was parked at the kitchen table (coloring, I assumed); and the other was upstairs doing something, I don't know, blowing her nose for like 20 minutes. Since I appeared to have a break, I settled into my favorite couch with Pinterest open, some cozy pillows and a fall blend of oils diffusing to my left. All was well, I tell you. Then? The child who had been upstairs came down and says to me... "Mom, sprinkles are everywhere." I said, "ok, clean them up." Three minutes later, "mom, I can't." Odd from my quick-to-help child who LOVES to vacuum and sweep. I went in to inspect. 

The child who had been sitting quietly at the kitchen table somehow tossed? exploded? dropped? ...who knows... a bulk container of round sprinkles. My friends. In my almost eight-and-a-half years of mothering, I don't know if I have ever seen such a wide spread mess. Sprinkles filled every grout line, covered every tile, traveled to the next room and blanketed my yoga mat. Have mercy. To say there was a million of them was probably not much of an exaggeration. As we started vacuuming them up, the vacuum was spitting them back at me. I emptied the vacuum canister and, of course, spilled the contents of that back on the floor. Though annoyed, I remained pretty calm (I'm going to pin that on the oils I was diffusing...). About 45 minutes later, and one kid with peed-pants later, we got it mostly cleaned up though I don't doubt we will be finding sprinkles around for the next five years. 

I sent the kids upstairs to get socks and appropriate clothes on for dinner out and, in that time, they decided to get rowdy. And then I heard, "wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." The baby, who was dreaming every so fondly of sugar plums, was now awake...like an hour too early. I banished a kid to the couch and sent the other off to do chores while we waited on dad to get home - all cited with excessive noise violations during rest-time hours. Sigh. 

The rest of the evening was pretty status-quo. We had a couple of pre-bedtime meltdowns from kids who wanted ice cream and homemade cookies produced at 8:30pm. I wasn't about to get kids wired up again before I was home-free for the day. I sent the sprinkle-dropper upstairs to bed and I followed with her baby sister. After I had baby sister in bed, I went back downstairs to grab my computer and other things. I crawled into bed and settled in to Pinterest while waiting for everyone else to come up. When my husband came upstairs about 10 minutes later, I said..."have you seen #3 (sprinkle-dropper)?" He said, "No? Let me see where she is."

We couldn't find her. Anywhere. 

ANYWHERE. 

After we'd searched every hiding place in the house, we still couldn't find her. 

All of the worst things were going through my head now. We tore apart every bed. Threw open every drawer and closet door. Exploded every laundry pile. We yelled her name in every corner. Nothing. Not a sign. Not a trace. How could we lose a child in our house? We never heard any doors open, but could she have somehow gone outside? Surely she wouldn't go into the dark rainy abyss. I started feeling really sick and imagined someone taking off with her right from our home. What did the perp look like? What kind of car? What was she wearing? I wouldn't be able to explain any of it. I didn't know how we would explain this to the police, but I pictured the headlines and we have never been so close to calling them. 

Absolutely frantic, I went back into our bedroom and threw the covers off of our bed (where I was just laying moments before). 

This child. There she was, sleeping soundly - angelically even - fully covered in our blankets. 

She went upstairs and thought it would be fun get under our covers and hide so we'd be surprised to find her when we got into bed. Before we had a chance to find her, she fell asleep fully covered in blankets and had sunk in to the memory foam mattress a little, which is why I didn't notice her RIGHT NEXT TO ME as I laid in bed. Even my husband looked through our room three times and under the bed. We moved her, as she slept soundly never realizing that we almost called in the troops for her return. We praised JESUS over and over and over and I consider it a lesson learned. 

Sometimes our blessings come in ways unexpected, friends. Sometimes they are hard days and things that are there to teach us patience, mercy, forgiveness, etc. And, sometimes, they are right beside us and we get SO caught up in panic and mis-trust that we don't even notice them. I am STILL praising the Lord this morning that our child wasn't really missing. We are going to spend the morning doing some fun projects together and loving one another intentionally! 

Blessings are all around you, friends, and some may be unexpected and closer than you think. 

And she dragged me, kicking and screaming.

So, I wasn't going to post today. I really didn't have anything spectacular to say and...honestly? I have a lot of messes going on at home lately. I have piles of clothes to be sorted; a homeschool room to be organized; toys to be purged; laundry to be laundered; children to be fed; PiYo to do; calories to be counted; toilets to scrub; prayers to be said; devotions to be done; and the list goes on and on...all the while the pool is calling my name for a couple more weeks. However, my TimeHop app sent me a picture today and it prompted the following thoughts.

A year ago, I hadn't been out with friends for about 18 months. When I mean "out with friends," I mean...like out, without kids. There wasn't really a reason I hadn't been out; I've never been a big Ladies-Night-Outer, I just got so consumed with everything going on around here (adjusting to life as a stay-at-home-mom of four after working outside the home, being pregnant, nursing a baby, taking care of the house and other kids, working it all around my husband's schedule, and sinking in to my own very comfortable routine of Facebook, blogging and photos, etc) that I didn't feel like taking the effort to get cleaned up and escape for a short while and go have a coffee, conversation and a little breathing room with friends. I just didn't feel like it. I didn't want to leave my routine and comfort zone.

However, I have a friend named Jenny, jennyitup, JRap.

Everyone should have a JRap.

She relentlessly harassed me to leave the house with her, for just a bit, and go have fun. (You should also know we were friends for like two years before this point). Now, if you know Jenny, you know she wasn't trying to get me to jump ship, get blindly drunk and max out the credit cards. She's just OLDER than me a seasoned wife and mom, also has a slew of kids, and she knows that a little time off in the right environment, for the right reasons, and with the right folks, is good. Everyone needs a time-out, right? We planned. And I'm pretty sure I got nervous and canceled twice (I'm not really sorry sorry, Jenny!!). Then she basically threatened me in the most Christian way possible.

So, we negotiated.

I told Jenny I would leave the house after the baby was in bed and if she picked me up. She obliged and we had coffee, chocolate and about a thousand laughs. It was a great boost and had me re-fueled for the next day. I'm pretty sure I texted her after to ask when we were going out the next time. So, one year later, we're still doing this. A few friends of ours all get together once every month-and-a-half or so and we just get together and breathe. and chat. and laugh. and eat food we don't normally eat. and get that breathing room that we all need, but so rarely make time for.

I love my husband and kids, so much, but I think a little breathe-time is good for all of us. It allows me to stop, collect thoughts and re-fuel while my husband and kids get a break from me can bond together, too! I've learned that going out doesn't make me a run-away mom, it just gives me an occasional time-out. Who would fight that?