Holidays Make Me Feel Incompetent*

* Stolen from Jana Anthoine

I just took down my Christmas tree.

I admit it. My Christmas tree was up until Wednesday, January 22. And if carpet cleaners had not been coming to try to get red gel food coloring out of Jordan's new bedroom carpet, it would probably still be there.

If my tree were alive instead of completely, utterly fake, it would have looked like this:

Which is why we have a fake tree, by the way. Too many years of that.

Why, pray tell, was my Christmas Tree up until the 29th Day of Christmas?

Excuse #1: I need hubby's help to take it down, and he travels.

That's a lie.

When it finally did come down, he wasn't there. He was in Chicago. I took the ornaments off, boxed them up, and then Joshua and Sandy took our Christmas tree apart and took it to the basement.

And I certainly don't need his help to take down the Santa Claus flag which is still  hanging by the front door.

Excuse #2: I didn't put it up until late, so I'm still enjoying having it up.

That's a lie, too.

I was cursing that tree by the time it came down.
Cursing every time the cats knocked an ornament off and the dog ate it.
Cursing every time I went to bed with the lights still turned on. Yes, we were turning the lights on right up until the end.
And cursing when I thought about what you thought when your kids came home and said, "The Edgecombs still have their Christmas tree up! Why did we have to take ours down three weeks ago?"

And it also doesn't explain why I had to take down my Halloween flag to put up my Christmas one. Doh!

WARNING: 

ADD MOMENT COMING

You know what's great about the Internet? I can Google "For Better or Worse Christmas Cartoon" and one of my favorite cartoons of all time pops up:

Back to our regularly scheduled program.

My mother did special things for all major holidays and made it look easy. Maybe that's why this cartoon resonated with me. It's what moms are supposed to do. We create magic half a dozen times a year (not including kids' birthdays) without breaking a sweat.

Well guess what? I sweat.

And I curse.

And I never make it look easy.

So holidays make me feel incompetent. Like I'm not a good mom.

But wouldn't I be a worse mom if I gave my boys an unrealistic view of what holidays should be? To let them grow up thinking that adorably-decorated cookies in eight different flavors just appear? That everything magically goes up on time and comes down on time with no effort expended whatsoever?

So I'm being incompetent for my kids. And my future daughters-in-law. On purpose.


That's my story and I'm sticking to it.



Finish Well.

Five Minute Friday: Kissing the Face of God

I am currently enamored with the Christmas song, "Mary Did You Know?" Here is a link to the song if you're not familiar. It's worth a listen.

What has captured my thoughts is the line, "And when you kiss your little baby, you've kissed the face of God."

What could that have felt like? To kiss the actual, physical face of God? And to have it disguised as a child?

Did she know? 

Could she comprehend? If not, when did the pieces fall into place? At that first miracle at the wedding in Cana? At what point did she really know what ... or whom ... she was dealing with?*

But what occurred to me the other day is that I kiss the face of God every day. Every time I kiss my children ... every time I kiss my husband ... every time I kiss the top of one of my children's friends heads ... I am also kissing God.

We are God's sons and daughters. Adopted, yes, but no less family. No less kin. No less image-bearers.

I wish I remembered that more when my kids are fighting. Or disobeying. Or procrastinating. Or pouting. Maybe that's my Christmas wish for myself this year. Don't see them as little bickering gremlins with a crappy attitude.

Look into their eyes, smile, and kiss the face of God.


[*Note: Bad grammar. I know. Get over it.]

Summer@Home: What I Learned, Part 2

In addition to what I learned about stuff ... what I could do without, and what I really missed ... I learned a lot about relationships and the people around me.

PART 2: What I learned about relationships

I learned that help can come from places you don't expect. 
There's a clique in my neighborhood. I'm not really "in" it, but I'm not exactly "out" of it either. My kids don't go to the neighborhood elementary school. They don't play tackle football at the local park, which seems to be the thing to do. None of them goes to my church. So I've always kind of skirted the edge of this group of women who have a lot in common with each other, but not necessarily with me. 

But that doesn't mean that when I needed them, they didn't come through. One gave Sandy countless rides to and from football practices. Several ran to the grocery store or would even text me from the store: "I'm here! Do you need anything?" They brought meals and returned books to the library.

One gentleman in the neighborhood — the father of a friend of mine — drove Joshua and Jordan to school for two weeks while Herb was traveling. My across-the-street neighbor and I got to know each other a lot better, and we even did a Bible Study together this summer.

I learned that my neighbors have got my back just because that's who they are. I hope I get to return the favor.

Summer@Home: What I Learned

People keep asking me, "When are you going to write the 'what I learned' blog?" It actually started before the driving restriction ended. They seem eager to hear how I was changed by seven months not being able to drive.

I actually started writing this post a couple of months ago. But I got a ways into it and realized something:

I won't know what I've learned until it's tested.

When you are in school, you can sit in a classroom every day, read the assignments, do the homework. But until the test comes, you can't really separate what you've learned from what you've merely been present for.

It's the same way with my seven months of no driving. I could tell you about the experiences I had while not driving. But I can't really write about what I learned — how it changed me — until I'm back in the driving world. Until it's tested.

There's a part of me that thinks that two weeks in is still too early. I don't yet know what will migrate from short-term to long-term memory. But I'm tired of people asking, so here goes.

I'm not going to explain all of them at once because this would turn into more of a dissertation instead of a blog. So I'm splitting my lessons learned into two groups:
1. My relationship with stuff.
2. My relationships with people.

PART 1: My relationship with stuff.

Summer@Home: I Remember...

On September 11, 2001, I took my son to daycare like many working moms, then came home to begin my work day. I remember walking past my bedroom door when the phone started ringing. It was my sister, which was not unusual.

"Where does Stuart work?"

Now that was unusual. No hello. No how are you doing. Just straight to the point ... where does our brother Stuart work?

"I don't know. In Manhattan somewhere. Why?"

"Turn on your TV."

"Stace...what's going on?"

"Just turn on your TV."

Summer@Home: Sleepless Night

Another Sleepless Night by Janet Lavida

It's 10:40, and I can't sleep. I can't even think about sleep right now. So I think. And I write. 

Isn't it funny how two of your own kids can be so alike ... or so different. We have two distinct pairs of boys.

Pair A: Number 1 and Number 3.
Dark hair, thin as a rail, very little temper to speak of, but passive aggressive. Will look you in the face and tell you what they know the right answer is ... then turn around and do the opposite.

Pair B: Number 2 and Number 4. 
Blond hair, blue eyes, and solid as rock, both of them. And a temper ... whoa Nellie! Do they both have a temper. If I had a nickel for each time either one of them has said they hate me (or I hate them) or I'm the worst mom in the world, I'd be relaxing on a beach somewhere with a piña colada in my hand.

You want to know what the kicker is?

Numbers 3 and 4 are the full bio-brothers. But they have nothing in common.

Summer@Home: The Bliss of NOT Being at Home

We went on vacation this summer.

To many people, that's not a monumental statement. However, we don't actually go on vacation very often. We visit family at their homes. Or we visit family homes when the owners are not there. But I can only count three real vacations we've been on since Herb and I were married just over 10 years ago. This year was one of them.

Our oldest, Ian, is going to college in the fall. So honestly, we don't know how many more of these "everyone is here together at the same time" vacations we're going to have. So we splurged and went to Hilton Head Island for a week. It was my favorite vacation spot when I was growing up. I had so many fond memories of Hilton Head that I wanted to share it with my kids.

One of the things I didn't really expect was how freeing it was for me to be on vacation with the family. Other than the drive up and back — which Herb had to do on his own — it was easy for me to forget that I couldn't drive. For the most part, when we went anywhere, we were all going together. No disappointments for the kids from hearing, "I'd love to take you, but I can't because Dad's not here."

And we were bicycling distance from the grocery store.  Hallelujah and pass the peanuts! I could go to the grocery store. By. My. Self. I'm not sure that I ever actually did. But just knowing that I could was enough.

And it was a Piggly Wiggly, no less! You can't beat that with a stick.

[Piggly Wiggly ... yet another amazing memory from my childhood! But I'll write about that another time.] 

There were two particularly memorable events from our vacation that I'd like to share.

Summer@Home Day 26 — Can Lightning Strike Twice?

Day 26
Words should be measured carefully before they are spoken. Frequently you do not know their import until it is too late. Once said, they cannot be unspoken, no matter how much we wish it were so.

Let me explain...

When I was pregnant with my now seven-year-old, we went to a Braves game. Now, you must understand that I am a huge Braves fan. Obsessive, some would say. Given the opportunity I would rather be at Turner Field than just about anywhere else. 

However, in this particular instance it was a day game in late June. I was six months pregnant, and I was ready to go home. We were on the right side of a 4-0 shutout going into the eighth, so it looked good for an on-time departure. 

Until the Orioles scored in the top of the 8th. And then three more times in the top of the 9th. By the bottom of the 9th, our four-run lead had disintegrated into a tie ballgame. 

Late June in Atlanta when you're very pregnant is enough to make even the most die-hard baseball fan weary.
 

Andruw Jones

Andruw Jones led off the inning, and the fans in the stadium rose as one. He was still in his prime and a force to be reckoned with at the plate. He and the longball were well acquainted. Exactly the person you wanted at bat at a time like this.

At that moment I spoke words that live with me to this day. 

"Andruw Jones, If you hit a home run right now, I'll name my baby after you!"

I screamed. I chopped. I prayed.

Summer@Home Day 12 — Not Stranded Anywhere

Day 12
I haven't driven since February 10 due to a medical condition. Many days I have felt trapped in my own house. There have been days I not only didn't go anywhere ... I didn't step outside.

Today was not one of those days, although it easily could have been.

My husband left for Maine today. Our oldest is graduating from high school on Sunday — long story as to why I'm not going, too — so I'm at home with the other kiddos for 48 hours and no wheels. Did we sit around the house all day?

Nope.

Summer@Home - Day 1

Day 1
My summer at home has officially begun. School let out five days ago, so most people might consider that the official beginning of summer. But for me, summer began today — the day my husband went back to work in the office and I stayed home.

If you don't know me, you may not realize the significance of this. I have not driven since February 9, 2013. On February 10 I had the first of a series of fainting and dizzy spells that occurred multiple times a day for a month until my doctors were able to get a partial diagnosis and find medicines that would help. I passed out for the last time on March 13, so I am not allowed to drive again until I have gone six months without an episode. September 13 is my magic date.

So with school out, and my husband back at work, I'm starting a new — albeit short — phase of my life. At home. All day. Every day. All...summer...long.

Showing His divine sense of humor, and just in case I was thinking about cheating, God decided to call my car home a couple of weeks ago. So even if I wanted to, I couldn't hop in my car and take an illicit jaunt to the grocery store or ice cream stand.

I am truly stuck.

Kill me.

Meet Bumpy

This is Bumpy

[Note: I wrote this when it happened back in October, but never posted it.]

Mothering boys is an adventure. Life is bigger, louder, faster, and messier than I ever thought it could be. But every now and again, things get very quiet, very small, and very slow ... even if only for an afternoon. That happened to us last Tuesday.

On Monday, we discovered that a woodpecker had gotten stuck in our garage. He kept flying from vertical perch to vertical perch as close to the ceiling as he could get, and each time he crossed the garage he bumped his head on the ceiling. So my boys started calling him Bumpy.

Life's Little Interruptions

Working from home can be interesting. Particularly on days when the kids are home from school. My husband was supposed to be home from a business trip last night and take off today, but the trip was unexpectedly extended. I didn't send the kids to a friend's house for babysitting because Joshua was too tired this morning.

What now?

Well, deadlines don't change because of business trips and tired kids, so I press on. I thought I would keep a list today of the little things that interrupted my work day. I've never done this before, so it could be interesting. Or boring. Or funny. Or depressing. But you never know until you start.

Ready.
Set.
Go!