For Moms

He Sees You

susieamicone 2 Comments

Today I washed and folded laundry. No one applauded.

Today I cleaned the kitchen and all the floors. No one cheered.

Today I made breakfast AND dinner. No one shouted accolades of praise.

Today I picked kids up from school. No one gave me a standing ovation.

Today I did office work for our business. No one patted my back.

Today I comforted teenage girls in their time of emotional distress. No one broadcasted my compassion and patience.

Today I taught my kids to repay evil with good and to love God and love people. No one shouts my name from a stage.

Today I cleaned the litter box and fed all the animals. No one sang a song of glee.

Today I helped with College Algebra, Geometry, Biology, Chemistry and College Writing. No one gave me an “atta, girl.”

Today I paid college apartment rent, auto insurance premiums, and bought the hundredth pair of pointe shoes. Not one person requested an interview to declare my amazing, selfless acts.

Today and every day…day in and day out…I clean, I fold, I wash, I sweep, I comfort, I cook, I love, I give.

Today and every day…day in and day out…I care for and keep human beings alive and thriving.

Where’s my praise? Where’s my public display of adoration? Where’s my grand gesture of thanks?

Nothing but silence.

Then I hear my Father say, “I love you immensely, I think about you all the time, and I see you and know who you are, where you are. When you do all these tasks that seem to go unnoticed, I see. You are not doing these things for others, but for Me. Well done, my daughter. Thank you for caring for who I have given you, with what I have given you.”

Mothers, wives, grandmothers…don’t give up, don’t be discouraged. You are loved and appreciated by your Creator. Keep doing what you do as unto the Lord. The Father delights in you as you bathe your baby and wash those dishes. God rejoices over you as you teach your children about His Son. His banner over you is pure love as you tenderly care for and support your family. He rewards you in special ways that touch only your heart.

Let David’s words from Psalm 139 be your prayer and song each day.

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely.
You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—when I awake, I am still with you

Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

Of Kids, Birthdays and Moms

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My oldest child’s birthday was this past Thursday. My Bubbies turned 17 years old! I honestly cannot believe how fast time goes. I’m always telling younger mothers how time flies and to cherish the time when their babes are little and sweet. Even when I’m saying the words, I can see the look of pure exhaustion in their faces and know they are thinking, “Please God, let time move a little, teeny bit faster!” Yes, the days may seem super duper long when you are slinging dirty diapers and baby food, but the years fly by oh so fast.  Hang in there, young mamas, freedom is coming!

I am showing my age…we’ll talk about that in a later post…anyways…

As usual during birthday “season” in our home, I posted the obligatory, gushing, sappy social media post on my son’s birthday and I suddenly had a revelation. Not only did he turn 17 years old, September 20th being the day of his birth, but it was also the anniversary of the day that I became a mother. I got to thinking…we celebrate our children’s birthday with such joy and exuberance on the day WE GAVE BIRTH TO THEM. They get a party, cake and presents. I have spent an awful lot energy, time and money on my kids’ birthdays. But really, what did they have to do to warrant such a celebration? Come down the birth canal or pop out of a c-section incision? I mean, I’m the one who decided to try and get pregnant, endured 38 weeks of pure misery, weeks of bed rest, pre-eclampisa and a horribly long induction process that ended in an emergency c-section where I almost died. Like seriously, though. I mean, I get celebrating the child born on that day, but someone should say congratulations to the mom for growing, birthing and keeping the child alive for however many years or SOMETHING! I know that there is Mothers’ Day, but that is just one day. I had THREE kids! In THREE years! Those kids should be celebrating me and thanking me for giving them life. (Settle down, I know God is the giver of all life, but He chose me as the vessel to carry and give birth to those kids.)  More like, “Happy Giving-Birth-to-Life Day, Mother!” Just sayin’.

Side note:  Motherhood is truly a thankless job, yet one in which I am happy to be a participant. Raising human beings is quite the task and not for the weak..especially during the teenage years and beyond. I thank God for my little-ish (all taller than me now) blessings and they truly make me over-the-moon proud of them every day. Sometimes, my heart feels like it will literally burst out of my chest! My kids are the best!

My friend commented on my son’s birthday post, “Happy Momiversary!’ Perfectly said. And from now on, when I see someone post a “Happy Birthday” on social media, I will wish their child a “Happy Birthday” and the mom a “Happy Momiversary” and congratulate them for being such an awesome, life-giving human being. Rock on, Moms! You’re amazing!

By the way, I have scripture to back up my point of view.  Look up Proverbs 31: 28-29.  “Her children rise up and call her blessed;  Her husband also, and he praises her. ‘Many daughters have done well, But you excel them all.'” Word, ladies. That’s the Word.

 

 

 

If You Give A Mom Three Toddlers

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This is a guest post by one of my dearest friends. It’s just in time for Mother’ Day! Hope you enjoy, “If You Give A Mom Three Toddlers” in the style of “If You Give A Mouse A Cookie.”

If you give a mom three toddlers, she’ll probably need a shower.

While she’s showering her two year old will probably pull the shower curtain back and tell her “Hi, I like your boobies.” After she showers, she’ll want to put clean clothes on.

While she’s dressing a Jehovah’s Witness will ring her doorbell and her four-year-old son will answer the door for her.

She will run to the door only half dressed and tell them that this is obviously not a good time, and the Jehovah’s Witness will laugh at her.

After she is dressed, her kids will want to color with markers, she thinks, “Two out of three are occupied, this is a good time to unload the dishwasher!” While the kids are coloring, her two daughters, 2 and 3, will decide they are a better canvas than the coloring book and they will need to wash their hands.

While they are washing their hands, they’ll think it is fun to fill the sink with dirty, soapy water. The sink full of soapy water will make them think, we should throw bubbles all over the bathroom! Her son will hear the commotion in the bathroom, and he will not want to miss out on the fun. Now, he will join in the chaos, also throwing bubbles and water all over the bathroom. Now the bathroom sink, floor, and walls need wiped, and all three kids’ clothes need changed. This makes her think she should get dressed and change out of her pajamas, too.As she is undressing the girls, being naked makes the girls think that they should play dress up. The girls dump their bin of dress up clothes and pick out princess dresses for themselves. Seeing the girls play dress up, reminds her son that he has a foam sword he can use for dress up, too. Playing with his foam sword, reminds her son that its fun to scare and chase the cat with his sword. As her son is chasing the cat, and the girls are dancing and singing to “Let It Go,” she runs into the kitchen to rescue the cat, trips over the dress-up bin, and runs into and hits her shin on the forgotten, open, unloaded dishwasher.

While in the kitchen, she remembers that it is lunchtime and decides to fix lunch, and throws some chicken nuggets in the microwave and pours the kids milk. The chicken nuggets are cooking and this makes her think, “I forgot to eat today, ” and she hears her stomach growling. All three kids are eating their lunch, and the straws in their cups make them want to blow bubbles in their milk. While they are blowing bubbles in their milk, one cup tips over and spills milk on the kitchen floor, and all over the kitchen island. She begins cleaning the island and kitchen floor and finds the three marker lids she lost this morning and a chicken nugget from yesterday. She thinks “I should just clean the entire kitchen floor while I’m down here.” As she cleans the kitchen floor, her kids finish eating their lunch, and her stomach continues to growl.

She finishes cleaning the kitchen floor, and now all the kids are wiped clean, dressed and watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Now, she can finish cleaning the bathroom sink, floor and wall; unloading the dishwasher; picking up markers; and washing the dirty, wet clothes and towels. She feels good about her accomplishments and sits down to eat the leftover scraps of chicken nuggets from her kids plates.

As she is sitting down for her two-minute lunch, her two year old, who wears big girl undies, runs by and hollers, “Mom, I poopied!” She tackles her two year old to change her, which makes her four year old think its time to wrestle. After she is done wrestling, and wiping the two year old, she somehow ends up with poop on her pants, on her arm and under her fingernail, maybe even in her hair. She can’t get the smell of poop out of her nose. She thinks, “Its only one o’clock, I already showered today,” but if you give a mom three toddlers . . . she’ll probably need a shower.

Written by: Larissa Hoffman

A Mommy’s Heartache

susieamicone 1 Comment

The words of my tween daughter pierce my heart like a knife.

“Mommy, why are my thighs bigger than all the other girls’ in my dance class?”

“Mommy, do you think I sing as good as my friend?”

“Mommy, why can’t I be funny like her?”  

Question after question.  Irrational insecurities.  Constant critical comparisons.

Her criticism hurts me.  Words that wound this mama’s heart.

You see, my daughter is perfect in my eyes.  She is beautiful, graceful, talented, kind, loving and absolutely perfect in every way.

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When she looks around and sees that she is not the same as everyone else, she imagines that something is wrong with her.  She listens to the lies whispered in her ear by the lips of the great deceiver.

I draw a picture for her with my words of how she has been deliberately and delicately designed by our Creator.  I explain how she alone can be Lily Marie.  She is the only one He made like her.

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But still, she is unsure and my sadness is a tangible aching in my own chest.  If only she could understand and see herself as I see her…

Just a moment though…

How often do I compare myself to other women?  Other wives?  Other mothers?  Other writers?

Daily and constantly.

Do I wound my Father’s heart when I am critical of myself?

Every time my daughter spews negative words about herself, God grabs my attention.

As I comfort and encourage my own daughter, His Words contradict the onslaught of lies from satan for both of His daughters.

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He sees me as perfectly crafted, created for a purpose.  There is no else like me on this earth.  Only I can do what He created me to do.  Only I can be Susie.

I cannot be Lisa or Kelly or Kim or Rachel…But I can be Susie.

God made no carbon copies…only carefully crafted creations.  

                                                                                       lilypointe                                                                                                                                                                                            

I am a carefully crafted creation.  My daughter is a carefully crafted creation. You are a carefully crafted creation.

Let’s be who God made us to be.  And praise Him for making us exactly how He intended.

“I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well.”  Psalm 139:14

I’m No Superwoman

susieamicone 4 Comments

Despite what you all may think (haha), I’m no superwoman.  supergirl

I’m no supermom. stay-at-home-mom

Though I confess it in faith with a Supergirl keychain, hoodie and t-shirt (thanks to the hubs) and I have a nickname floating around out there (Super Suze).  I don’t feel so super all the time.  Super Suze?   More like a SUPERintendent of this crazy funny farm I’m running here.  piggies

Can I get an “Amen” from all the wives and moms out there?

Or am I the only one who feels overwhelmed, worn out and insecure about being….well, a human being in general?

Take yesterday for example:

I woke up on time (actually, for once) and had great plans to eat breakfast, take my vitamins and workout before noon.Laundry, phone calls and four children’s schoolwork gobbled up ALL.MY.TIME. in the morning.

Between 12:30pm and 1:30pm, I made lunch, helped both girls practice their piano, helped one son with his math homework, took a shower, washed my hair (after like 4 days…gross!  I was holding off until after I worked out.),  actually shaved my legs and armpits (trust me, it was needed)blog2-leg-shaving-spring-harvest and headed out the door to piano lessons.  Wet hair and all.

I drove the 1/2 hour to piano lessons and sat there for an hour and half.  All the while, working on homework with each daughter and following up on emails about cakes.  And silently dying inside because the girls had not practiced too much this week because of Passion Play and Easter.  Geez, can’t I get my act together?  Of all kids, mine should be thoroughly prepared for piano lessons.

On the way home, we drive through a horrendous downpour so bad that Emma says, “Please Jesus!  Don’t let us die!”  Of course, I was in the left lane and sandwiched between four other cars and could not pull over.   My hands resembled the claw when we finally drove out of it.theclaw

I needed to go to the grocery store, but there was no time because the ex was coming over to take Nathan to his baseball game in a half hour.  And he just called to tell me at 3:55pm.  Sigh….well, I’m thankful for the help today.  But the house looked like a bomb went off in it.  Why can’t you keep your house clean like all the good wives and moms?

I’m more Lucy.  I-Love-Lucy-i-love-lucy-17796179-359-450

Not so much June.june cleaverPssh…

Rush home.  Start screaming at kids to get ready for baseball.  Get ready for dance.  Oh wait…what?  Scott has to be at work at 5?  Oh Sweet Jesus, have mercy on my soul.

I scrounge up some bread and cheese.  Grilled cheese and pierogies for dinner tonight.  Emma complains.  She hates grilled cheese.  Nathan says to not put any yucky seasoning on the pierogies (What?  It’s just garlic salt and butter!)  The ex is ringing the doorbell.  The kitchen looks like a Febreze commercial where they blindfold the people and ask what they smell.  I simultaneously make four grilled cheese sandwiches, pierogies, load the dishwasher, empty the trash can, find baseball pants and belt from the basement, fix two ballerina buns, make a much-needed cup of coffee, feed the herd and get out the door in under 30 minutes.multitasking-meltdown  All the while, bridling my tongue and the brewing meltdown as best as I could.

For the love of God, how much can one woman take?  I had my blingy It Works mug full of sweet nectar from God, though.  blingcoffeeIt’s all about the silver lining, ladies.  Or the rhinestone one.

I dropped Scott off at work with five minutes to spare.  (Proud look beaming from my face just now.)  Drove down to Sam’s Club for the groceries I so desperately needed.  Mother Hubbard’s cupboards were, for sure, bare now.  With my tiny ballerinas in tow,ballerinas I raced through Sam’s like a skilled race car driver, even having the audacity to say “No, thank you,” to the Direct TV guy who was trying to solicit me.  Ha!  Take that sales guy!

I seriously made it through Sam’s Club with a full grocery cart in under 15 minutes.  I’m not bragging, I’m just sayin.  My time  took a major hit though when I chose the wrong checkout line.  You know what I’m talking about.  The deceptively short line with the elderly lady whose cart has just a few items.  Patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue.  I chanted mentally to myself while my girls gave me crazy eyes and head nods towards the dear lady trying to work the credit card machine from her Hoverround.  Emma was beginning to freak out about being late for dance AND she had to pee and was thirsty.  Breathe in out, breathe out.

Finally, we got out of Sam’s.  The wind was fiercely whipping when we got outside.  The kind of wild wind that makes the hair on my head literally wrap around my entire face, obscuring my view.  hairfaceIt took me five minutes to find my keys in my purse.  The girls were freezing.  Of course, it was like 70 degrees when we got in the car a half hour ago and no one felt the need to bring jackets.   Mom fail.

Unloaded the cart into the back of my van.  Took the cart to the cart return.  (I did seriously consider leaving it by my van, but Joyce Meyer’s words ring in my head).  Watch this…  http://youtu.be/iedcwIxsKhE

That’s something.  I guess.

And how about this?  We made it to dance with 15 minutes to spare!  Thank you, Lord.  In everything give thanks.

Chatted with a friend at the dance school for a few minutes and arrived at Nathan’s game a few minutes late.  I missed his first at-bat. Of course.  He struck out, so that kind of saved me.  Remember, I hadn’t brought a jacket…I looked in my trunk to see if I had a blanket or stray sweatshirt.  Nope.  What I did find was Emma’s fluffy panda hat with the attached scarf with hand warmers.pandahat  I examined it and then decided against wearing it in front of the other moms.  What would they think about me?  So I got back in my van and watched the game from the hill.  My thin shirt was no match for the bitter wind.  Why couldn’t I get it together and remember things like jackets, hats and those bag chair things everyone else sits on at these games?

Well…at least it’s cold and my groceries in the trunk won’t rot before I get home.

When the game ended, it was 8pm.  The girls weren’t getting done with dance until 9 and Scott wasn’t getting done with work until 10.  So, I drove back home, unloaded the groceries, Nathan got a shower and we headed back to the dance school just in time to get the girls.  In the meantime, Lew sends me a picture of the awards ceremony dinner he’s at in North Dakota. “Call me ASAP,” I say to him.  I really just want to unload on him the chaos of my day so I’ll get a little sympathy.  I was beginning to feel weepy and pitiful by that time of night.  We chatted.  He made me feel happy.  He’ll be home in a few days.  Just keep on keepin’ on.

We finally made it home a little after 10pm.  I rush all the kids to bed.  By that time, I was beyond tired.  I wanted to get my workout in.  Yeah, right.  Who am I kidding?  Bedtime for this old girl.  I know I’ll hate myself in the morning for it.  So I went to bed.  Lily came in three times to ask me if I heard something.  No.  Go to bed!!!!  Then of course, I lie there “hearing something” until 3am. Way to freak a mom out, Lily!

Here I sit today.  FrazzledCatMore tired than before, but able to clearly evaluate what went down yesterday.  Sure, the amount of running around and scheduling and quantity of stuff I was able to get done was impressive.  Super, some might say.  But what was going on in my mind and heart all day was super BAD.  The negative self-talk was present all day long.  I beat myself up mentally from morning until night.  How and why did this happen?

I have expectations of myself that no one, not even God Himself, expects from me.

I often look around at other moms and wives and compare myself to them.  I come up short every time.

I allow the opinions of others to steal my peace.

I forget whose image I am made in. I forget who I am in Christ.

I forget that I am loved by many people.  And they love me just as I am.

Here are some truths about my life (and yours too, I’m sure):

Life is not perfect.  I am not perfect.  That’s okay.  

I am doing the best I can, most days.  

I love my kids.  I love my husband.  I love Jesus.  They love me too, like a whole lot.

My kids are alive, healthy, smart and thriving human beings who also love Jesus.happykids

My home is clean enough…there are no infectious diseases or life threatening hazards at the present time.  Everyone has clean underwear…today.

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I have a roof over my head, food to eat and clothes to wear.  Every day.

I AM a good mom.  I AM a good wife.  I AM a good person.  Sometimes we’ve just gotta say that to ourselves.  

Be encouraged today, mommy and wife.  You’ll make it through today, one second at a time.  Don’t beat yourself up if everything doesn’t go as planned or if the dishes are piling up.  Play with your kids or cuddle with your husband instead.  A clean house is WAY overrated…in my humble opinion.  At least until the mother-in-law shows up.

Love yourself because YOU ARE LOVABLE.

And one last thing…let’s give each other a break too.  When we criticize one another, it just shows how insecure we are with ourselves.