"help. I need a towel."
that's all I needed to hear to know that today would be challenging. That, of course, came from mikey--straight forward and matter of fact-- shortly after the gurgling of his little sister projectile puking all over the breakfast table. naturally, poor ana started crying her eyes out, and mikey just wanted to get the little bit of soured almond milk off of the portion of his chair. so the epic scrubbing of my kitchen began, sanitizing and doublebagging the waste, so much so that the fragrance of bleach in the kitchen burned my nostrils on the inhale. oh well, I figured. at least it's clean in here, for now.
post breakfast blowout, chara and mikey were ready for church, and ana was laid up on the couch, snuggling her carebear and watching the movie Home, which I have to admit was adorable and cast perfectly. I couldn't believe that anyone other than Jim Parson could manage the roll of a literal and anal retentive alien. it was the only the sound of Sheldon Cooper on the big screen that distracted me from each and every time ana moved her body or coughed a little bit. I was so worried that she was going to get sick again that I put her in a pullup (in case she had a multiple blowout) and practically swaddled her into the couch cushions. thankfully, she didn't give me too much of a hard time on that.... at least until the movie was over.
after church, mikey returned with a scream and an inability to calm himself down, which turned into a battle over getting his coat and shoes off without him banging his head into a wall or attempting to step on the cat or punch one of his sisters, then repeatedly insist that he needed to go potty (a phrase he often scripts as an attempt to get out of trouble), only to stand there and wait for me to tell him to go. it didn't take much for me to figure out that he was overwhelmed today, although I truthfully, for the first time in a long time, had absolutely no idea why. and not knowing why reduced me to tears. why do I have the ability to analyze situations and different kiddos in those scenarios and come up with multiple solutions and ideas for parents and families, and yet when it comes to my first born, the snuggly little love bug that he is, I feel completely inept at times to help him cope with his struggles?
we all have this tendency to resist the good, insistent in our own ways until we literally collapse from exhaustion... at least in my house. I am probably the most guilty of this. there is not a day that I do not run around with a to-do list, happily checking off the items as they get accomplished, feeling as though I made a dent in this yellow brick road of never-ending tasks; that if I just get them done fast enough, I can reach the emerald city and get rejuvenated just in time to see the wizard and have him grant me all the deepest desires of my heart. of course, with children running around like elephants stomping on snare drums, shrieking in delight at an ungodly decibel, and me playing Russian roulette with each step I take around my house, as to not break a toe or step on a lego, and I am rarely clicking my heels as much as wishing for those poppy fields to give me a deep sleep.
sleep is a gift that is all too often missed out on lately, at least for me. jimmy works third shift, and many days, he returns exhausted, flips on some background noise on the ipad, and begins the choir of the rusty chainsaw...also known as his snore. meanwhile, I return to the way of chores, budgeting, research and homework, meal prepping, errands, and of course my kids. I have to wonder as I look around every afternoon at what has been accomplished if it is a bit like brushing my teeth with oreos- in all seriousness, what would be the point of it?
now of course, the answer is obvious. these are every day necessities, right? I mean, the kids need to eat when they're at school, so lunches need to be made, and the same with dinner in the evening. clothes need to be worn, and while there is no law about having clean clothes, anyone with a keen sense of smell and pride in one's appearance would prefer to have clean clothes to wear on a daily basis. I can continue to justify the to-do list, going down the different bullets, specifically telling myself why each one is needed and how me feeling exhausted at the end of the day is a good thing because of what has been accomplished.
and yet, there is something not on the list that hasn't been included for a long time, something that resonates within us all but often goes overlooked. there is a need to be fulfilled; and this is very different than being accomplished. Accomplished is a high five at the end of the day, a compliment from the boss, the right to kick your feet up and watch another episode on the latest Netflix obsession... but fulfilled-- that is to be satisfied with your abilities and your character, not just your daily task sheet. somewhere, in the midst of growing up, life becomes an order of expectations that fit a societal mold, turning us into what we all eventually become: adults. we hear the parents speaking wisdom to their children, trying to save them from their own hideous mistakes, warning them to "do things right"-- graduate school, focus on the future, save your money, get a good job, get married, then worry about a family, and so on. we see ads everywhere encouraging women to choose their own future by taking birth control, or for parents to vaccinate their children, to wash the carrots before you eat them to avoid the chemicals from the "dirty dozen"... literally, almost everything we see and hear guides us into the world of adults-- how to live, who to be, what to say. but where is the passion? where is the guidance counselor telling us to ask for help, and watch Disney movies?
it may not seem like much, but it is. having ana cuddled on the couch with me and watching this goofy little alien try to fulfill a promise to his one true friend gave me a glimpse at what I never see on the to-do list. it reminded me that even in the chaos, there must be pause. despite the difficulty, there are moments that are built for laughter. they can be puke covered moments, or bedtime story moments, or listening to your 6 year old learn to deliver a punchline-- correctly, and with vigor!-- or even an exhausted chuckle to yourself that you made it through the day. laughter is good-- it is passionate and alleviating and uplifting. it is a reminder that life is more than checking off the day's chores or paying bills and collecting kids from daycare. it is a reminder to go off the beaten path every day, to find a moment that is not bland and mundane, or even think of one that is and make it into something better.
there is way too much yelling here every day. between chara's mini-woman attitude and mikey's sensory overloads and meltdowns, or ana screaming about how me making her eat her meal isn't fair, and I can't help but wish for a soundproof retreat filled with down blankets and Egyptian cotton sheets with a high thread count and a waterfall of coffee like the river in Charlie and the Chocolate factory. despite the fantasy that I dream to get away from it, especially when the moments are really trying, the noise eventually fades, the kids fall asleep in their warm cozy beds, and I can think about what the day has brought us. and ultimately-- I'm so blessed that I do not have blind obedience from my children.
I love when they listen, follow directions, as me if mommy needs any help with chores or cooking. those days are absolutely amazing, and it makes me feel like i'm doing something right. but in their deviation, I can see a spirit, not of rebelliousness, but of passion. yes, I want them to clean their toys now, and I get upset when they don't do it. but this is just a mere glimpse of how God looks at me throughout my day. i can say with a lowered nod and a slight smirk that i have been a proud toddler one too many times with God, stomping my feet over what isn't fair or banging my own head when i get frustrated (metaphorically of course)... and yet he is quick to show me grace. although it takes reflection and rewinding, I am able to see it from their standpoint. That instant is important to them. whatever they were thinking, imagining, believing, building-- it had great significance to them, and telling them to shut it down stirred up a passionate response. they still have a strong desire to stay in their own little world and tune out the world of adults and responsibilities and to-do lists and passionless work.
it doesn't matter what it is; passion is not limited by pages written, paint on a canvas, or people helped. driving down a country road with the music up and the windows down or climbing a mountain or learning to play the guitar, going to the beach just to run in the surf and listen to the sound of the waves and the seagulls-- there are so many ways that we can express passion, that we can extend grace to others, allow our character to develop by finding the joy from a place buried deep under all the mundane requirements and arduous and ample assignments that face us every day. but it takes a boldness, a strength to ask for help, to know when you're burned out and to have the ability to put the list and the pen down, take a breath of fresh air, and remind yourself that there is more to life than plaques on the wall, trophies on a shelf, or a paper filled with check marks. it is the heartbeat of a sick 4 year old girl as she snuggles under your Mexican knit blanket; it is the full sentence of the autistic boy who asks you to sing to him before he drifts to sleep; it is the comfort in knowing that you are exhausted at the end of the day because your heart and soul were put into every step taken and word spoken that day. it is sitting down at the end of the night, with only the whirring of the gas heat from the vents, words pouring out of your veins with each strike of the keyboard, knowing that this is a revelation to be shared, to find the passion that ignites your soul and make time for it every single day.
and i am blessed because i can check that off today. it is good.
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Saturday, October 29, 2016
melted popcorn
let me just say this: not all sweeteners are equal.
I can only say that I figured this out because I made an unfortunate mistake when attempting to make homemade popcorn balls with the kids. considering it is Halloween weekend, and I am truthfully not much for the celebratory activities of meeting strangers for sugar highs, it was my idea to make a delicious casserole, then make popcorn balls, and pumpkin banana bread.
I ALMOST pulled out a childhood common dinner that is for certain NOT a favorite..... tuna casserole. Literally canned tuna fish, egg noodles, and cream of celery soup. Not the most incredible culinary creation, but healthy and filling nonetheless. Well, I was able to get around that and make a chicken casserole instead, adding some veggies, fresh herbs, and topping it with cheddar cheese, and it was absolutely delightful.
shortly after, the kids got in line to get their showers done so that we could all enjoy a homemade dessert and watch a fun movie. This is our weekend ritual, if you can consider it that. But when you're broke and have multiples to entertain, Netflix is an amazing luxury, and popcorn seems like a dream. regardless, I was able to find a popcorn ball recipe in one of the kid friendly cookbooks that I managed to find in the bargain section of Books A Million months ago-- one of my favorite places to be as I love the smell of new books and freshly brewed coffee in the same place. truthfully, the cookbook is adorable! but I digress.
we were out of molasses. so of course, google a substitute and I was informed that one could switch out maple syrup for molasses. unfortunately, this must only be when it is utilized for baking (as a sweetener). the mix of vinegar, maple syrup, sugar, baking soda, and water did not create a thick gooey candy-like coating to make the popcorn balls, but this sweet soda-water that lacked viscosity and completely melted the popcorn down to the kernels. it made me laugh a bit at the complete lack of candy-making skill combined with the fact that I have never taken chemistry and didn't realize that adding baking soda too early to the mixture containing vinegar would cause it to bubble and nearly explode on the stove.
despite the smell of melted popcorn in a caramelized soup, i couldn't help but smile. for once, i wasn't getting upset over the fact that i hadn't mastered something this simple. i just dumped the bowl into the trash and told the kids i would make a new batch. the difference was this time, mikey wanted a kettle corn sprinkle on top of it, and chara, like her mom, requested melted peanut butter poured on hers. instead of a Halloween special, the kids saw that Kung Fu Panda 3 was on Netflix and immediately jumped in glee, agreeing that was the one they wished to watch. (*Yes, I said only Mikey and Chara because Ana was still having a 4-year-old stubborn fit in the kitchen over eating her dinner, and therefore was missing out on the fun.*)
i'm not sure what it was that made this time different. many times, it can be something absolutely tiny and miniscule in the grand scheme of things-- i can't find a matching set of socks for chara, i run out of lucky charms and the kids are forced to play rock paper scissors in order to determine who gets them for breakfast, i get exhausted throughout the day and resort to spaghetti instead of the amazing pinterest worthy meal that i looked up and bought ingredients for hours prior.... it didn't matter that i literally watched the popcorn melt into a giant bowl of gooey kernel soup. i laughed it off. but i'm not sure what made it different.
this image of perfection is an ideal that too many Christian women live by. we believe that we have to do it all-- be perfect chef's, perfectly calm parents with an abundance of patience, always put God first while still giving time to our homes, our communities, our families, missions, and ourselves without getting tired or overwhelmed or neglecting ourselves. what i am learning, even in the midst of melting popcorn, is that the pressure of perfection only concludes with the feeling of failure. and it isn't necessary.
we are not called to perfection. the perfect body, the perfect family, the perfect husband, the perfect life-- none of it exists. there are moments that we all fail, that we all fall short and don't measure up. my house was a disaster today; the kids were rowdy and running around, oblivious to the fact that i had given the direction to clean up their toys over 70 times, and ana must have resisted every meal like she was allergic to food. there were dishes in the sink, dirty cat litter, and i was only able to wake up by reheating yesterday's coffee (so it wouldn't go to waste). my hair was a wreck and i walked around in pajamas all day, with the ever lovely accessory of cat hair all over me. and the day was filled with tears, messes, spills, and moments of chaos.... and still, it was blessed.
it isn't in perfection that joy is found. it is the moments when the popcorn is melted, and Pixar is on the big screen, the kids smell of shampoo and melted peanut butter, and we are all snuggled together on the couch laughing together.... it is when they ask for a bedtime story and hold the cat and tell me how much they love school.... it is when chara dances with delight and ana imagines new characters and parties, and mikey is singing church songs and dancing around the house with jimmy's hat.... it is the moments that are found in photo albums, the ones that everyone is smiling and enjoying life-- these are the moments we remember. but it is all the sticky moments, the mistakes, the failures, the moments when we are brought to the edge that go unnoticed and unremembered.... but it is those sticky moments that make the good stuff matter.
i'm blessed to have those moments, to have lots of them, and to be in a place of my life when i can begin to appreciate them for what they are. i am glad for the lack of supply and the newfound creativity in the kitchen. i am grateful for quiet Saturday nights and bedtime stories and chicken casserole and crowded couch snuggles. and when the kids are tucked in and falling asleep, the dishes are done and the house is quiet again, i will be thankful for another chaotic day that i could be called mommy.
I can only say that I figured this out because I made an unfortunate mistake when attempting to make homemade popcorn balls with the kids. considering it is Halloween weekend, and I am truthfully not much for the celebratory activities of meeting strangers for sugar highs, it was my idea to make a delicious casserole, then make popcorn balls, and pumpkin banana bread.
I ALMOST pulled out a childhood common dinner that is for certain NOT a favorite..... tuna casserole. Literally canned tuna fish, egg noodles, and cream of celery soup. Not the most incredible culinary creation, but healthy and filling nonetheless. Well, I was able to get around that and make a chicken casserole instead, adding some veggies, fresh herbs, and topping it with cheddar cheese, and it was absolutely delightful.
shortly after, the kids got in line to get their showers done so that we could all enjoy a homemade dessert and watch a fun movie. This is our weekend ritual, if you can consider it that. But when you're broke and have multiples to entertain, Netflix is an amazing luxury, and popcorn seems like a dream. regardless, I was able to find a popcorn ball recipe in one of the kid friendly cookbooks that I managed to find in the bargain section of Books A Million months ago-- one of my favorite places to be as I love the smell of new books and freshly brewed coffee in the same place. truthfully, the cookbook is adorable! but I digress.
we were out of molasses. so of course, google a substitute and I was informed that one could switch out maple syrup for molasses. unfortunately, this must only be when it is utilized for baking (as a sweetener). the mix of vinegar, maple syrup, sugar, baking soda, and water did not create a thick gooey candy-like coating to make the popcorn balls, but this sweet soda-water that lacked viscosity and completely melted the popcorn down to the kernels. it made me laugh a bit at the complete lack of candy-making skill combined with the fact that I have never taken chemistry and didn't realize that adding baking soda too early to the mixture containing vinegar would cause it to bubble and nearly explode on the stove.
despite the smell of melted popcorn in a caramelized soup, i couldn't help but smile. for once, i wasn't getting upset over the fact that i hadn't mastered something this simple. i just dumped the bowl into the trash and told the kids i would make a new batch. the difference was this time, mikey wanted a kettle corn sprinkle on top of it, and chara, like her mom, requested melted peanut butter poured on hers. instead of a Halloween special, the kids saw that Kung Fu Panda 3 was on Netflix and immediately jumped in glee, agreeing that was the one they wished to watch. (*Yes, I said only Mikey and Chara because Ana was still having a 4-year-old stubborn fit in the kitchen over eating her dinner, and therefore was missing out on the fun.*)
i'm not sure what it was that made this time different. many times, it can be something absolutely tiny and miniscule in the grand scheme of things-- i can't find a matching set of socks for chara, i run out of lucky charms and the kids are forced to play rock paper scissors in order to determine who gets them for breakfast, i get exhausted throughout the day and resort to spaghetti instead of the amazing pinterest worthy meal that i looked up and bought ingredients for hours prior.... it didn't matter that i literally watched the popcorn melt into a giant bowl of gooey kernel soup. i laughed it off. but i'm not sure what made it different.
this image of perfection is an ideal that too many Christian women live by. we believe that we have to do it all-- be perfect chef's, perfectly calm parents with an abundance of patience, always put God first while still giving time to our homes, our communities, our families, missions, and ourselves without getting tired or overwhelmed or neglecting ourselves. what i am learning, even in the midst of melting popcorn, is that the pressure of perfection only concludes with the feeling of failure. and it isn't necessary.
we are not called to perfection. the perfect body, the perfect family, the perfect husband, the perfect life-- none of it exists. there are moments that we all fail, that we all fall short and don't measure up. my house was a disaster today; the kids were rowdy and running around, oblivious to the fact that i had given the direction to clean up their toys over 70 times, and ana must have resisted every meal like she was allergic to food. there were dishes in the sink, dirty cat litter, and i was only able to wake up by reheating yesterday's coffee (so it wouldn't go to waste). my hair was a wreck and i walked around in pajamas all day, with the ever lovely accessory of cat hair all over me. and the day was filled with tears, messes, spills, and moments of chaos.... and still, it was blessed.
it isn't in perfection that joy is found. it is the moments when the popcorn is melted, and Pixar is on the big screen, the kids smell of shampoo and melted peanut butter, and we are all snuggled together on the couch laughing together.... it is when they ask for a bedtime story and hold the cat and tell me how much they love school.... it is when chara dances with delight and ana imagines new characters and parties, and mikey is singing church songs and dancing around the house with jimmy's hat.... it is the moments that are found in photo albums, the ones that everyone is smiling and enjoying life-- these are the moments we remember. but it is all the sticky moments, the mistakes, the failures, the moments when we are brought to the edge that go unnoticed and unremembered.... but it is those sticky moments that make the good stuff matter.
i'm blessed to have those moments, to have lots of them, and to be in a place of my life when i can begin to appreciate them for what they are. i am glad for the lack of supply and the newfound creativity in the kitchen. i am grateful for quiet Saturday nights and bedtime stories and chicken casserole and crowded couch snuggles. and when the kids are tucked in and falling asleep, the dishes are done and the house is quiet again, i will be thankful for another chaotic day that i could be called mommy.
A bit about us :-)
It has been a long time since I desired to start a blog. In fact, for a while, I forgot that I had them to begin with. Facebook has been a bit of a superpower in this house, and while I'm thankful for the connection it has brought me to those far away from me, it has also been a lot of drama. I remember hearing from several dear friends who left facebook and returned to blogging, friends who became much happier and had more time for their families and the good moments in life. While I don't believe that I will be giving up facebook altogether, I think the time has come to sign off and enjoy telling my story. Well, our story.
First, there's me-- I'm Jodi, a 30 year old mommy of 3 amazing kiddos (Mikey, Chara, and Ana), a native New Englander, but adopted by the beautiful country living that is Ohio. I suppose you could say that I am a renegade baker and chef-- although, I have to admit that my creativity comes primarily when I'm not consumed with work, homework, or an abundance of cashflow. I am zealous about photography, and this is the year that I plan to pursue it with a fresh perspective and the belief that I am my own style. The color orange and old movies make me happy-- the ones that are in black and white, everyone is well spoken and dressed to the 9's-- those are the ones that I will curl up with my favorite hoodie and a bowl of freshly popped popcorn and enjoy watching. Oh-- shakespeare movies are included in that list, preferably the Kenneth Branaugh versions. I absolutely LOVE Shakespeare! I love God with everything I have in me. I am only beginning to learn what that kind of love and dedication means, but I love the journey it puts me on.
Then there is Mikey-- my 8 year old little man, silly and compassionate as they come. He is so unbelieveably charming, and I doubt he will ever get more handsome than he is! Yes, he has autism, and many of my posts will mention this. However, I believe that God gave him challenges for a reason, and I wouldn't change him for anything. Chara is my spunky sassy little 6 year old-- she is famous in her own mind, always right, and quite the fierce protectress. She has her moments when her mouth gets her in trouble, but her heart is usually in the right place. She has ADHD, so some moments with her bring me to the brink.... but it also brings me to my knees, and God knows I need that. Finally, there is Ana. Ana just turned 4 in September, and she is my priceless little party planner. Her imagination is completely unmatched by any other child I have ever met! All of my little ones bring such blessing to my life-- I couldn't thank God enough for them. Then there are Jimmy and Madison. Jimmy is my amazing husband-to-be, and I couldn't be more thrilled that God brought us together! I have seen so many blessings and millions of little moments where God has spoken to me, indicating that there will be challenged and joys alike in our upcoming life together. I can't wait to write about them all and share the journey. Madison is his 10 year old daughter, and as far as I'm concerned, my girl too. :-)
This is our life-- the good, the bad, the nitty gritty. :-)
First, there's me-- I'm Jodi, a 30 year old mommy of 3 amazing kiddos (Mikey, Chara, and Ana), a native New Englander, but adopted by the beautiful country living that is Ohio. I suppose you could say that I am a renegade baker and chef-- although, I have to admit that my creativity comes primarily when I'm not consumed with work, homework, or an abundance of cashflow. I am zealous about photography, and this is the year that I plan to pursue it with a fresh perspective and the belief that I am my own style. The color orange and old movies make me happy-- the ones that are in black and white, everyone is well spoken and dressed to the 9's-- those are the ones that I will curl up with my favorite hoodie and a bowl of freshly popped popcorn and enjoy watching. Oh-- shakespeare movies are included in that list, preferably the Kenneth Branaugh versions. I absolutely LOVE Shakespeare! I love God with everything I have in me. I am only beginning to learn what that kind of love and dedication means, but I love the journey it puts me on.
Then there is Mikey-- my 8 year old little man, silly and compassionate as they come. He is so unbelieveably charming, and I doubt he will ever get more handsome than he is! Yes, he has autism, and many of my posts will mention this. However, I believe that God gave him challenges for a reason, and I wouldn't change him for anything. Chara is my spunky sassy little 6 year old-- she is famous in her own mind, always right, and quite the fierce protectress. She has her moments when her mouth gets her in trouble, but her heart is usually in the right place. She has ADHD, so some moments with her bring me to the brink.... but it also brings me to my knees, and God knows I need that. Finally, there is Ana. Ana just turned 4 in September, and she is my priceless little party planner. Her imagination is completely unmatched by any other child I have ever met! All of my little ones bring such blessing to my life-- I couldn't thank God enough for them. Then there are Jimmy and Madison. Jimmy is my amazing husband-to-be, and I couldn't be more thrilled that God brought us together! I have seen so many blessings and millions of little moments where God has spoken to me, indicating that there will be challenged and joys alike in our upcoming life together. I can't wait to write about them all and share the journey. Madison is his 10 year old daughter, and as far as I'm concerned, my girl too. :-)
This is our life-- the good, the bad, the nitty gritty. :-)
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