As a mom, and especially as a homeschooling mom, I feel like I am running behind a lot. There is always laundry that needs to be done. Dishes in the sink. Messes to clean. Diapers to change... there is just always something.

It's particularly hard for me on days like today, when my husband is off work and free to relax in the sun with the kids playing on bikes or with sidewalk chalk...and I am inside trying to tackle any number of my undone chores.

I start to feel a little pathetic. Like the maid.

And I feel really lonely too. I love my family and I want to do the fun parts too...not just the cranky mom parts.

I have tried various systems and tricks and know that some work far better than others and some just require a few days of commitment that I seem to have a hard time finding...but overwhelmingly I feel like I need to just accept that I can't get it all done and that that is, actually, okay.

I don't need a magazine house as long as I truly am doing the very best I can, while keeping my priorities in order. My kids can live with a few extra toys on the floor if it means the difference between time playing with mom or not. My marriage deserves more attention than the bedspread.

This is really difficult for me because I know plenty of women who seem to do it all... but I am not them. It's okay not to be.

So today I put down the duster and went outside and colored on the sidewalk for an hour with all my family. And we laughed and smiled like we haven't been able to do for quite sometime.

And the dishes got done, the dinner got cooked, bedtime prayers were said...and great memories were made.

It's 11:30 and I'm sitting with my friend, Stephanie... in her office...blogging.

I'm sure my husband will laugh if he ever reads this post, already not a fan of the Blog-a-Day concept. He thinks the idea of a challenge to write everyday is wonderful, but just doesn't get why every random thing written each day should be published.


In a way, it makes me smile a little more each day that I continue with the challenge. It's like I reaffirm the message God has been speaking to my heart with every typo. It's just another step on the path of living like me, because really...it doesn't make sense. It's so ridiculous and arbitrary.

Really, the idea that I am taking time out of my all to precious girlfriend hang out time to blog...who does that?

It feel amazing. It feels like taking of training wheels and finally embracing the fact that I can do it.

Next week my kids' report cards are due. It's so funny to have to give my own babies grades. What mother doesn't want to see an entire column of A's? Although if they are honest, most mothers know their little angels are far from perfect.

I remember very clearly filling out their grades last quarter. I remember the anguish I felt knowing how betrayed they would feel if tey saw my disappointment reflected in those marks. As it was I never showed them. They have no idea what letter grade I wrote down.

I want so badly for my kids to think beyond their grades and just embrace the process...to delight when they learn a new skill or interesting fact. I want every day to be an adventure for them.

So I sat down and readied myself to be painful honest in their assessments. I allowed myself to go back to that place last quarter as I looked over where they had been. We were still struggling to find our way only a few short months ago...

I looked at all the books laid before me, reflected on each assignment, on where they had been before and I nearly cried.

I saw the little girl who struggled through her simple one paragraph assignments and now slipped off into her room with a copy of Jane Eyre...the boy who insisted he "just couldn't do long division" but knew just how many brownies each classmate could have out of a batch of twenty...

I saw the journey we had taken together in baby steps... and sometimes crawling... but we were no longer where we had started.

Type... type...words... babble...delete.

This is how the posting is going tonight.


Blathering and trying to make simple thoughts seem important. Wanting to pour out my jumbled thoughts and give the appearance of connecting to them a little more than I do.

I want to reach deep and reveal a piece of myself... but I keep coming up short.

The truth is, I'm kinda not feeling it tonight. I'm not feeling bad, or sad,or cranky, or angry... nothing negative at all. Actually, I'm just not feeling much of anything beyond "normal".

I just started to say my day was average, and it was, but it occurs to me my average days are filled with a lot of great stuff. Laughter, silliness, Jesus, friends, my kids(kid drama is even sweet in it's way), some great conversation with my wonderful husband.

There were some lame spots too... too many chores left undone, cranky kids or grown-ups, bills, and other slightly annoying stuff.

Also, in my average day I realize, that still I am so blessed, that my peace and my joy run the background music of my life. That if I really listen and pay attention it is always there.

That's pretty cool.

So now I'm sitting on the couch, everyone is asleep and I kinda wish i had a girlfriend or two to hang out with...but even if I don't it's okay.

Maybe I'll just have an average night with some silly tv and a few leftover cookies.

Ok, tonight is a little hard. I don't typically like to blog when I am feeling down in the dumps. I don't like to put that stuff out there... usually I go back and wince at the emotion of it all.

But it's only day three so I can't back off now.

I can't find two books I know I had in January. They are for the next two bible studies at church and I can't find them anywhere.

What is normally frustrating is pushing me towards tears tonight. Gah!

And it hurts me a little to be so vulnerable all. the.time.

I know some of this is hormonal and that in a few days I'll be feeling much better but it's more than a little uncomfortable to be in this place.

So that's it. Nothing profound. Nothing earth shattering. Nothing that will minister to you or even me. Just a big fat whine.

I'm going to have a cup of coffee and a good cry I think.

And if you see my books wandering around town, sad...homeless...neglected...tell them I miss them and will they please come home.

Edit:

I just almost deleted this whole thing because I did think of something a little better to write about...but it just refuses to come out so I'm gonna stick with more honest and less interesting.

It's amazing what a simple challenge does to your mindset... like saying "I'm giving up soda" brought on cravings for the bubbly like I've never experienced before. Taking a once a month craving to an almost daily desire...

This is also my experience with Blog-A-Day. I sent large parts of my day in thought about this or that and then thought..."That might be a good blog."

And I wonder now, do I table some of the more interesting thoughts to explore again later in cyberspace, on a day I'm not feeling so inspired? Do I blog all my rabbit trail thoughts? Is anyone besides Stacee even going to read this stuff? :)

So I guess one of the best and most exciting parts of the grand experiment will be finding my voice. This thrills me to no end. Enough that I almost don't care if anyone besides Stacee reads this...

Once upon a time I actually considered myself, among other things, a writer. I loved to get lost in the stories and prose I'd put to paper. A lot of it full of the vain imaginings of adolescence... the raw emotion strung together to form some sort of validation for the mess that was jumbled in my head. I certainly wasn't great, but most of my non-greatness could easily be chalked up to inexperience more than lack of skill.

Then I met and fell in love with one of the greatest writers I would ever be blessed enough to know. I fell in love with him through the written word. He was, and is, incredible.

And I put down my pen. Simply laid it down and put on different title. I would never be a writer like him. I would never measure up. So I just stopped.

Seeing it all written out in front of me it seems, not just sad, but a little pathetic. Who told me I wasn't good enough? Who told me I didn't measure up? Who told me my words, thoughts, feelings, and emotion didn't matter?

No one.

Not one single person spoke those words over me, yet the enemy whispered them in my ear and I was more than happy to agree. To just assume I was less than and walk away from something I loved.

Stupid Satan.

Ridiculous me for believing it.

I guess this is why I enjoy the mere idea of a blog so much. It connects me to something that I just handed over to that thief. It gives me an opportunity to walk right into that serpents camp and reclaim what he stole from me.

What a wonder Jesus is. That He cared for a dream and passion I had let slip so far away I wouldn't have even been able to tell you they were once there.

What a passionate love He must have for me to do this thing for me.

Hmmm... that wasn't even on my list today...

Way back in January a friend of mine decided to blog everyday for a month...and in the process much hilarity ensued. It was really interesting as her reader and friend and I wondered what might I do with the same challenge... so I vowed to start in February...and forgot until about the 3rd. On to March... I forgot...again.

So here it is April. April Fool's Day no less, and I remembered my personal challenge.

It's really hard to feel like I am going to have to figure out something worth writing, and reading, every. single. day.

But here I go.

It's very cold today which is a nice start... it gives me an excuse to sit in front of my computer bundled up in my blankie waxing profound. The weather is so bizarre, a week ago my kids were swimming in the pool outside, now I'm trying to figure out if it's worth it to turn the heat on.

Oh no...my first day and I am talking about weather. Yikes.

It fits my mood though... I am not sad per se, but it's sort of overcast and slightly gloomy... great thinking weather.

It's really quiet in the house, the older kids are out with Grandma and the baby, who is no longer a baby, is taking a nap.

It used to be when I was alone I couldn't wait to turn on some music and rock out...but the quiet is so beautiful. Just the sound of the running water of the fish tank.

Silence is really underrated.

I think in the silence I can really hear the vastness of God. Of His great love for me. of his choosing me.

In the vastness of the quiet my heart can truly sing to Him and call out to Him.

I feel like God has reawakened...or perhaps awakened for the first time...passion for serving Him. I feel like I see God in a way I never have before. I feel His love and His challenge in a way that electrifies my very soul. I can hardly sit still for the excitement, yet that is what He is asking me to do. To sit and ponder, and feel and, love and be loved like never before.

Is this my time of refreshing? Is this rest before the battle? Or is this how I am called to fight at this moment in time?

I understand Joy in sorrow. I understand excitement in grief. I relish it and let it wash over me.

So this is it...day one of my ramblings...