Cute, isn't he?

I'd like to introduce you to somebody. I call him Laszlo. He's pretty amazing.

He is my lesson plans, my meal plans, my weekend plans, and my vacation plans. He is my schedule, my daily routine. He is my to-do lists, my chore charts, and my alarm clock. He is my sense of security and comfort. He is my knowing what I can expect out of each day. He is my attempt to control some tiny part of this life that is spinning over 1,000 miles an hour while hurtling around the sun.

Like I said, he's glorious. There are times I feel like he's the only thing keeping me sane and helping me get through the day.

No matter how much I've tried, it seems I cannot control the earth's rotation. Time continues to march on. I can't fast forward, rewind, or even pause it, much to my chagrin. Some days the mere thought of this is enough to make my heart flutter.

Even more terrifying than the speed at which I am flying around our solar system, are the three tiny tornadoes who live in my house. I cannot control them. I make plans. I make schedules, and lists. I tell them my expectations. It's no use.

There are too many things that can go wrong.

I get set back 30 minutes because somebody wet the bed, and there he is. Laszlo. He's been flushed down the toilet. He's been knocked from his perch on the mantel. He's shattered on the floor.

I'm left trying to pick up the pieces. I'm desperately trying to glue him back together. To get some sort of rhythm to my day.

The funny thing is, the more I try to maintain my grip on him, the more I try to force the pieces to fit back together, the more devoted I am to him, the more I insist that everyone else in the house (let's face it...just plain everyone) bow down to him...

The more my face begins to look like his.

It's not pretty.

You may want to steer clear.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I know it's time to be devoted to something more beautiful. It's time to fix my gaze on the Beautiful One, and hope that I begin to resemble Him instead.

Wish me luck. I've tried to get rid of him before, but the stinker keeps finding his way back.

Saving Daylight

Everybody knows how most moms feel about time changes.

Springing forward used to just mean an hour less sleep. As a parent, it means wrestling your kids to bed at night before they are sleepy and then being late to church in the morning and dealing with tired and grouchy children while also being tired and grouchy.

Falling back, that once glorious night of an hour more sleep or party or reading, is forever changed with children. Their little bodies don't care that the clock reads 5.30 a.m. They are awake and ready for breakfast. And the little tyrants demand that you meet their needs.

I think one of the 3 things I actually liked about living in Arizona was that they don't buy into this whole time-change nonsense.

This morning, though, something glorious has happened in our house. It is 8.30 a.m. The laundry is done. The dishes are washed. The grocery list has been made. I even had a bath(!). Now I am sitting down to a cup of joe. And not a single other person in the house is awake.

getting silly with the webcam

You could say that I'm a little excited about this. My coffee is usually frigid and my ears full of the glorious chaos that is my life as a mommy to 3 little men. I love my crazy life. But I am going to savor this peaceful moment while I can. Moments like these don't happen very often while the sun is actually up, and this one is sure to be over soon.

do i look peaceful?

Slurp.

Ahhh.

It's the Little Things...

I have found that -- in order to avoid feeling overwhelmed -- I need to break down my daily tasks into smaller steps when I put them on my "To Do" list.

For example:

• I do not write "dishes"
• I write "empty dishwasher" and "load dishwasher"

This way, I am able to cross things off more often & feel a sense of accomplishment. See? If I just write "dishes" and get interrupted, I feel like I haven't gotten anything done.

I think today I'm going to break it down even further:

• put away spoons
• put away forks
• put away knives
• . . . 

I feel a productive day coming on!

showings, staging, and stuff

Well, we are officially "on the market" as of Tuesday afternoon and have had two showings so far. I feel like my whole being is preoccupied with the possibility that we'll get a phone call requesting a showing in a few hours and the knowledge that potential buyers want to see houses that look like someone could possibly live there but show no real evidence of actually being lived in. My heart starts beating faster & I start to sweat just thinking about it.

What about the dishes in the sink?

What about the laundry hanging all over the laundry room?

What about the floor that is covered with whatever the latest meal was?

What about the toys that are strewn all over the house?

What about the little ones clamoring for my undivided attention?

How can I possibly get the house ready?

I have determined that it can only happen if we're in a constant state of half-readiness. Which means my day is spent like this:

• wake up and make sure the house is absolutely spotless before we begin to dirty it with our life
• serve breakfast to the kiddos
• clean up the boxes of cereal that Shorty has pulled off the pantry shelves and spilled all over the kitchen floor
• break up the fight that has erupted between the twins in the family room
• race up the stairs to find Shorty running all over the house with toilet paper he has dunked in toilet water; clean up this mess
• head back downstairs to help Thing 1 or Thing 2 finish up whatever potty business he needed to take care of of; clean up the mess
• go back upstairs to try to minimize the damage Shorty is doing as he dumps the box of cars out in the middle of the twins' bedroom floor, takes them to the top of the steps, and throws them down
• run back downstairs to break up yet another fight and clean up the toys the twins have thrown at each other
• return to the twins' room to find that Thing 2 has decided to unmake the beds and roll all over the floor while shouting "oh, no! oh, no! oh, no!"; clean up this mess
• back downstairs to try to clear the table of breakfast and sweep an entire bowl of cereal off the floor
• race up the steps to find out who is screaming and why
• return to cleaning the kitchen just in time to make lunch for everyone and let the whole cycle start again

Did you notice there is no mention of personal hygiene or getting dressed? Yeah. We might smell bad right now.

But the house looks great.

45 Minutes

Thing 1 & Thing 2 have (mostly) given up their nap.

Occasionally, they will pass out from sheer exhaustion. And if we are in the car, they are out light lights. But for the most part, "nap time" has become "room time" until the Little One wakes up from his nap.

Now the older 2, when they switched to just 1 nap & up until just recently, would sleep for a good 2-3 hours. Beautiful. Time for Mommy to relax AND get some chores done.

Shorty, though, doesn't think he needs sleep. I put him in his room, have potty break for the twins, get them into their room to play, clean up their lunch, make my own, and sit down to eat. Just in time for him to wake up.

It's throwing off my mommy mojo.

glitches

Some folks like to complain about living as a lefty in a righty's world. Perhaps that is frustrating. But as I have learned over the past year, left handed folks aren't the only ones that this world of ours was not designed for.

Moms with three under three face our own fare share of glitches, frustrations, and general annoyances. Some might even go so far as to call it discrimination.

I'm not that girl.

Well, maybe some days I am. But not today. Today I just call it irritating.

Let's think about some of life's most basic tasks & how, when you've got three under three you become acutely aware that the folks who did the design work didn't have you in mind.

Should I start with cars, carseats, the LATCH system & the like? When you just have one of those rear-facing monstrosities to fit into your vehicle, it can -- if you are lucky -- go in the middle of the back and not cause too much discomfort to either of the front-seat-riding individuals. If you aren't so lucky, then it plops behind the passenger seat & really isn't even an issue most of the time. Now, when you've got TWO of those beasts to try and squeeze into the back of a car, there is no escaping the necessity of scooting the front seats forward & riding a little bit closer to the steering wheel than was previously necessary. Add to this that my hubby and I are both over six feet tall, and you've got some serious discomfort going on. We were actually car shopping when I was 8 months pregnant with the twins and were amazed to discover that even the biggest of the big vehicles were lacking in this area. Oh, and all of those adds that say it's safer to keep your kid rear-facing until he is two or even three . . . oh, I'm sure it's safer for the kid, but there comes a day when you climb into the car and realize that if you were to get into an accident, you are sitting close enough to the steering wheel that the driver's-side airbag is going to go right through you. That is the day you get on the scale with your 1-year-old(s) and thank the good Lord above that he(they) is(are) over 20 pounds.

And then we added one more to the mix. You know how minivans are supposed to be family vehicles and all of that. Well, would you believe that the vast majority of them only have LATCH systems for 3 car seats -- the middle bucket seats and then one more that takes up 2 of the 3 spots on the bench seat in the back. They also don't have locking seat belts as an option for installing car seats. Nice. So I have twins that cry when separated (so they are in the middle), and a baby in a rear-facer that I have to climb around and over to even get into his seat in the very back. Sure hope he doesn't need anything while I'm driving.

What about the grocery store now that I've got 3 under 3? With just the 2 it was usually okay. Most of the stores these days (at least the mega-stores) offer those enormous carts with the extension on the front that you can get 2 kiddos into and still have the whole cart free. Worst case scenario, one in the seat & one in the basket with food piled around him while I give constant admonitions to sit down, sit down, sit down. However, now that I've got one more, I have discovered a problem. It took a while for me to notice, though. When shorty was in the pop-out infant bucket, I just plunked him in the "seat" of the shopping cart, strapped his brothers into the big boy chairs, and off we went. The first time I went to the store after he had gotten too big for that car seat, though, I discovered that the leg holes of the "seat" of the cart were covered over, there was no seat belt, and there was a notice that said that area as for "merchandise only." Fantastic. The little guy is not nearly old enough to ride even close to safely in the basket. Now, the twins are old enough that they CAN walk beside me but it makes for a much slower trip to the store, a lot of fear that they are grabbing something breakable off the shelf, and the constant danger that one or both of them will wander away while I am not looking. They haven't quite become responsible citizens yet. Go figure. So, more often than not, I end up with a regular cart, the baby strapped into the seat, and two nearly three-year-old little boys kicking and pushing each other in the basket while I try desperately to pile the groceries around them in a way that will neither injure them nor harm the food.

Our community swimming pool -- oh, how much fun I had imagined we would have there this summer. Until, that is, I realized that there were absolutely no flotation devices allowed. Not in the big pool and not in the kiddie pool, either. So, there we were in the kiddie pool. It's a foot and a half deep, so it is up to the chins of the dynamic duo (who flail helplessly face down if they slip) and the little one has to be held. I was a nervous wreck. And we didn't go back. Do you think I can get some money back from the HOA since their rules make it impossible to use the facilities?

Speaking of swimming. We are finally getting Thing 1 and Thing 2 some swimming lessons this fall. We had wanted to do it earlier, but -- guess what -- it's not really set up for a family like ours. For kiddos under 3, the only classes offered are "Mommy and Me." That's fantastic and all, but how do you do "Mommy and Me . . . and Me . . . oh, and Me Too!"?

So. I should stop before this gets long. What? It's already long? So sorry. And to think, I only just scratched the surface.

How is God Revealing His Heart to You...

...through Your Journey of Motherhood?

This is the question I had the privilege of addressing this Mother's Day (along with my amazing friend Christina) during our worship service. I thought I'd share my answer with you and I hope that you will share your own answer with me by leaving a comment.


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Before preparing what I wanted to say today, I thought I should take a look at my day-to-day life and see what I could learn. As a mom of 3 boys under 3 years old, I talk in short little bursts of two to three words at a time. I discovered that I spend a lot of my time every day saying things like:

· stop that

· calm down

· stop whining

· use your words

· just wait

· it’s alright

· you’ll be okay

· shhh

· stop

· relax

· take a deep breath

· settle down

I don’t like to shout over the commotion., I try to wait for the boys to calm down and be still so we can put on shoes, change dirty diapers, solve a conflict, or whatever it is that seems to be causing stress at that moment.

How often do I wish my children would settle down and just trust that I know what I’m doing; that I have their best interest at heart; that I am not going to hurt them. Instead they fight, they scre4am, they hit, they run away, they cry and whine, they insist on being independent and trying to do it themselves. It’s like thye don’t understand that I just want to take care of them – that it really is better to have a clean diaper than to continue to wear a nasty one, that medicine may taste bad but it will help them to feel better, that it is much safer to get in the car than to play in the parking lot, that peas really are better than cookies for dinner, that I’m not going to drop them, that when I tell them not to touch the stove it’s because it’s hot and they’re going to get burned.

Even when they don’t listen, when they touch that hot stove and burn their hands, I’m there taking care of them – comforting them in their hurt. I know which medicines to use and how to put on a Band aid just right. They just have to trust me to do it.

I find myself saying over and over, “Shhh…be still. Mommy’s here.”

That sounds very similar to what God says to us in Psalm 46:10: Be still and know that I am God.

How often do I wish that I could just be still and trust that God knows what He’s doing, that He has what is best for me, that He wants to take care of me, that even the small things are things that matter to Him, that He’s got my back, that His grace is sufficient for me, that He ahs a plan for my life that is better by far than my own plan (even though it may be different).

There are so many different places in my daily life where I struggle to be still and to trust in Him. Day in and day out I fill my mind with things other than the word of God, things that can stand in the way of developing a closer relationship to Him. I place my confidence in things other than Him – my own abilities or finances, my husband, my friends, or my plans. I allow my emotions to dictate my actions, affect my decisions, or even justify inappropriate behavior. I let daily activities like laundry or dishes keep me away from quiet time with God.

God is saying to me, Meg:

· stop that

· calm down

· stop whining

· just wait

· it’s alright

· you’ll be okay

· shhh

· stop

· relax

· take a deep breath

· settle down

We moms are really good at calming down our little ones and taking care of them. Sometimes we forget that we need to stop trying to work everything out for ourselves in our lives. We need to sit down and be still, trust Him, and know that He’ll take care of it.

is it wrong?

Is it wrong that since my last post the moses basket has become my new best friend?

Not only will Little Britches sleep soundly in it for at least 2 hours twice a day, he is also content to just lie in it for unspecified amounts of time while I:

• do the laundry
• take a shower
• give his brothers a bath
• wash the dishes
• surf the internet
• update my facebook status

I can carry him from one room to another and pile the basket high with all the other things I would normally have to make several rips to get.

It is the perfect "chair" for the Little One, too, since he can be propped up against the edges (he normally throws himself violently to the floor when sitting upright). He is contained if he does decide to no longer sit, so I don't have to fear toys with tiny parts or stray craisins on the floor.

In short, it is the best babysitter I ever bought at Goodwill for under $3 and I highly recommend it. I wonder if it would work on the twins?

**disclaimer, this post was going to be some long and rambling parody of Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn" but I thought better of forcing English teacher humor on the blogosphere. You can thank me later (cookies, for example, would be a great way to thank me)**

my so-called life

fish sticks cooked, served and devoured.  nap time.

w needs every stuffed animal in bed with him, heads on the pillow, kissed, hugged, and tucked in.
n wants his "maff" (giraffe) and monster truck kissed, hugged, and in bed with him.
lights off, i leave the room, and a short party ensues.

the baby is changed, fed, played with, and content.

my lunch is put on the stove.

hearing that the twins' party is nearing an end, i open the door to re-tuck them into bed & give out the appropriate kisses once again.

"uh-oh, mess," n declares, grabbing his crotch. i notice that he has managed to remove his diaper inside his clothes (thank goodness it was a pajama day and the footie pjs kept the "mess" from being spread around the room).  i take him out to the other room so i can work on getting him cleaned up.

"pee. diaper," his brother states matter-of-factly, insisting that i change his diaper, too.  w gets a quick change, and then tucked back into bed. 

cue the baby.

little britches has rolled over & gotten himself stuck in a position he doesn't like. screams ensue.  thankfully, n isn't very thrilled about his predicament and is lying patiently on the floor while i soothe the screeching one.

the baby has been placated. back to the task at hand. i have no desire to describe in detail the "mess" in n's pants or the cleanup process. needless to say, it took a while. in the meantime, the baby is getting sleepy.

sleepiness & the small fry...if i catch his cues & get him down when his cheeks are rosy & his arms are flailing, we are all happy.  i have about 120 seconds to catch those cues and start to get him down before my otherwise easy baby becomes a screaming, crying nightmare.

needless to say, it's difficult to see rosy cheeks and flailing arms when up to one's elbows in you-know-what.

cue the baby. (offstage screaming)

finally...the mess is clean, the clothes have been changed, and a happy mr. n is tucked back into his bed and ready for a nap.  i rush to the baby's room, swaddle him up, give him his pacifier, and rock with him in my favorite chair until he has settled down and is practically asleep.

into the crib with that one.  take a deep breath & head downstairs.

what's that smell?

oh, had you forgotten too?

my lunch was on the stove.

surprises

life with twins...

every day is chock-full of surprises.

and today has been no exception.

this morning i put the bubs down at 9.30 for their morning nap and settled in for my bible study and then some cleaning like always. 2 hours is a nice chunk of time every morning to get some things done and have a little peace and quiet.

10 a.m. i hear crying from the bedroom. no. screaming. blood-curdling, there's-no-way-i'm-just-going-to-soothe-myself-back-to-sleep screaming.

surprise!

mr. w didn't want to nap any more. so much for cleaning.

my not-so-secret indulgence/addiction since jr. high has been days of our lives.

(go ahead and mock me. let him who doesn't know the names bo & hope cast the first stone)

so i'm watching today and it seems that, once again, the ruthless & evil stefano dimera is back from the "dead" -- or perhaps just a non-recoverable drug-induced coma.

surprise!

well, maybe not so much a surprise...it tends to happen...

the boys were contentedly playing in our living room this afternoon, staying out of trouble, and allowing me to get some things accomplished. look how cute they are.


wait just a second...

i think we need to take a closer look at a few things...



yes, that is, in fact, a huggies size 3 diaper lying in the middle of my floor...

and check this out:


did you notice he's still wearing his shorts?

did you notice the large wet spot in his crotch?

surprise!

apparently, the diaper belonged to mr. n. i have no idea how he managed to take it off while still wearing his shorts.

he is clearly gifted.