Muddling

I thought this story was good enough that required a blog post out of it. Enjoy.

Muddling Along by Janene Wolsey Baadsgaard

Have you ever had one of those days where you wish you’d stayed in bed? I remember a day like that. The dishwasher had malfunctioned, flooding our house all night as we slept. We didn’t know until one of our sleepy-eyed children came into our bedroom early in the morning and said, “Mom and Dad! It’s raining in the basement!” The room that was hardest hit was the storage room where we’d recently carefully stacked and dated our pride and joy, a two-year supply of food. In a mad dash to save anything we could, every member of our family hauled each bucket and box out into the back yard to dry out. It took hours. Just when we finished, we heard a clap of thunder, looked up, and felt several drops splash in our eyes. Then the heavens were opened and the few drops immediately became a downpour. We regrouped and quickly hauled our soggy mess into the garage. When we finally got every box and bucket into the garage, my son came running to me in tears, informing me his pet rabbit was dead. After finally getting the children off to school, my daughter called from campus saying she couldn’t remember where she’d parked the car at college. Then my other first-grader had an accident that required a change of clothing. You get the picture. “I can’t handle any more,” I said to my husband.
“You don’t have to handle it,” my husband replied. “There’s no rule book somewhere that says you have to go through life handling everything. Just muddle, Jan. I’ve been muddling for years and no one can tell the difference.” Muddle, I thought. I think I can muddle. Now every time I’m feeling overwhelmed, I remember my husband’s timely advice. Frankly, I’ve been muddling ever since and so far no one can tell the difference, just like he promised. I remember a day when I walked into the kitchen to find my young son surrounded by the large white buckets where I stored our flour, sugar, and pasta. He was busy scooping— sugar into the flour—rice into the sugar—pasta into the rice. The whole kitchen looked like a white billowing cloud except for my son’s innocent grin and two large blue eyes staring up at me. “Look, Mom. I’m the bread maker!” my young son said as he looked up at me. Suddenly it dawned on me that whenever I made bread I pulled out all the white buckets and started scooping. He was trying to be like me. My feelings of frustration melted into love. I was so proud of him for trying. As we got busy cleaning the kitchen, I realized God loves us like that. No matter how big the mess or mistake we’ve made, God provides us with a Savior to help us clean it up. That is the essence of muddling. Muddling is not mediocrity. Muddling allows us to stop keeping up appearances or worrying that we’ll never measure up. Muddling is accepting our humanness and inadequacies. Muddling is realizing there are some messes only Christ can clean up. And muddling is seeing our worth through God’s eyes and never giving up hope that things will work out.

Organization is the key

I am in charge of organizing Jason's school life and homework so he just has to do it. Somehow, I managed to create more chaos than order this time. I didn't bother to go through his syllabus and read what book he actually needed. Just heard Jason say the name of it and ordered it online. Great! The book was ordered and would arrive in a few days. 2 weeks later... still no book. The girl calls and says the book got lost in the mail and for me to file a claim for it. I did so. And I ordered another one from another seller. In the meantime, the 'lost' book shows up on my porch. Sigh. As if that's not irratating enough. It's the wrong book. I had ordered the wrong book. Twice. Now, 4 weeks into the semester and Jason still with no book is passing the class somehow. I pull out all the paperwork from his teacher (finally) and look up the correct book and order yet again. All is well now, and silver lining- I put the incorrectly ordered books up on half.com and sold one already! I have certainly learned a valuable lesson. Pay attention. It pays off.

It's 105 and they are COLD??

It's getting pretty warm here in AZ and trying to keep the kids busy and out of the house is no small feat. So, we took the kids up the the mall to play on the splash pad to cool off and get some energy burnt off. They had a grand time trying to hold the water in the ground and getting soaked in the meantime.

If it's possible in 105 degree weather the kids got cold being so wet. So, we went to the playground next to the splash pad to play and let them dry off in the sun. Before long their shivers stopped and they jumped and climbed to their little hearts delight.

Lainy found this sign first. Nothing fancy, just the playground rules. She must have thought it was pretty special since I found her kissing it, and then as we examined a little closer, LICKING the sign. Ugh. Of course, like a lunatic I ran screaming to her trying to startle her enough to stop. Jared wanted in on the fun and began kissing the sign as well. What is so special about the stinkin sign??

Be good to your Daughters

So, obviously from my previous post you can tell it's been a rough week. I realize now that the storm has passed, how much of the problem was within me. Jason and I had some much needed quiet time together while the kids had a babysitter, and I had a chance to reflect on my parenting strategy as of late. I knew when I woke each morning in recent weeks, that my patience meter was running on low even before the mornings began, but somehow managed to convince myself that it was my children at fault for the way the day turned out.

I feel myself being pulled out of the impatience zone and slowly making my way back to the reality of good parenting. I told Jason tonight that I can tell the overall volume in my house gets louder when I choose to yell at the kids instead of assessing the problem. And I feel as though (and I sure you do too after reading so many posts about it) this is a revolving issue for me, and probably always will be.

Tonight I heard the song Daughters by John Mayer (check my playlist) and it hit me. This is not so much about me. This is so much about these amazing souls whose presence I been blessed with. They deserve the best of the best I can possibly give, each and every moment of each and every day. These are children who will be facing things in thier life that I can't even imagine facing. It is my job to help prepare them for it. Man, it's moments like these that I am so grateful for my Heavenly Father, it makes all of that reponsibility seem do-able and not quite so daunting, knowing you have someone like Him in control of things.

Today I am done.

I am done washing

I am done folding

I am done dusting

I am done scrubbing

I am done weaving

I am done coloring

I am done cutting

I am done styling

I am done screaming

I am done crying

I am done venting.

Mad hatter

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEATHER!

(this was in Primary when we sang to these two. I didn't realize that the birthday hats looked so much like the mad hatter!)

Moderation in all things

When they talk about having moderation in all things, they mean books for someone like me. THIS is why I don't read! Books like this one. It is phenomenal. And it comsumes me until every page has been devoured. (no pun intended with this particular book) Anyhow, 500 pages in a 24 hour period and you can imagine what my house and children look like. And of course there's a sequel.

Distracted

Completely engrossed in my current reading choice this morning (that I woke up at 5 am to read. Nice) I almost jumped in to save Lainy from her brother repeatedly smacking her on the head while walking in circles. As I yanked my brain back into reality, I watched for a moment and realized he was saying "dut (smack) dut (turn) dut (turn) dut (smack)" He never did get to goose, and Lainy never did seem to mind. I guess he learned something new in nursery this week.