Puppy Love

It has been a lot of fun over the past month watching Tripper grow in size and as a part of our family.  Thankfully, he is pretty laid back and doesn't seem to care much when the kids are picking him up, and treating him likes he's their own personal stuffed animal.  It is so much fun to watch them play together.  With the warmer temperatures these past few weeks (which means 50s for highs), we've been able to send the kids and dogs out in the yard to play.  They just run around, chasing each other.  It's so simple, but they are having so much fun.  Tripper is getting bigger, so it will be interesting to see the point when the tables turn and he's more likely to knock the kids down than the other way around.

We're still working through all of the puppy stuff...house training, not chewing up stuff (we've only lost one pair of shoes), and general training (not jumping up on people, etc.).  He's made good progress, but he's still a pup, so if you come over and see him, just be prepared.  He jumps on people and doesn't realize how sharp his teeth are when he's playing.

I have been taking tons of photos, because that's just what you do when you have a puppy and cute kiddos that love to play with him.  Here are a few of the more recent ones.

Bad Mom

In the past couple of weeks, I've caught Audrey telling Fletcher, "Bad boy" several times.  He is doing something he is not supposed to be doing, and that is her way of correcting him.  When I see it happen, I ask her why she calls him that.  Her response is that she hears us do it with Tripper (the dog), so she does it with Fletcher.  I try to explain to her that as Fletcher gets older, he'll learn the meaning of those words.  Just because he makes a bad choice that results in negative consequences, that doesn't make him a "bad boy."  It just means he made a bad choice. I firmly believe that, and I want my children to grow up knowing that they have good, loving hearts and that a bad choice or mistake here or there doesn't detract from the amazing person God made them to be. So, we try to teach them that they are God's children, and all it takes to get rid of the "bad" is God's grace. 

If I believe that so strongly for my children, why is it so hard to believe that for myself?

I've had a rough week.  There's no way around it.  It's not the worst week; it could be much worse.  But, there was a lot of stuff that happened that was out of my control and just caused some chaos.  The chaos caused me to be stressed.  I was actually feeling pretty good about how I'd managed the stress through the week.  I definitely had my moments, but I made it.  And when Billy got home on Friday, I was so relieved.  I was glad to have my partner and helper back. But, instead of doing a happy dance and celebrating with my family, I let all of the pent up emotion that I'd been pushing down erupt. 

So, what happened? Well, I lost my cool about silly stuff.  I yelled...a lot. I cried.  I beat myself up for not having it all together.  I cried some more.  I asked "why" a lot.  Why, at my age can't I do a better job of managing my stress?  Why do I lose my cool when I know I shouldn't?  Why can't I see this coming and calm myself down before I start yelling?  Why am I not better than this?  Why am I such a bad mom and bad wife? 

Why?  Well, a wise person I know said it perfectly...I am human.  

That's easy for me to forget, but ultimately, just like my children, I am God's child.  I have a good, loving heart, but I do make mistakes.  I make bad choices.  In fact, I make the same mistakes and same bad choices over and over again. But, I need to take the same lesson that I try to teach my children and remind myself that all of my bad choices, my sin, are erased because of Jesus.  God's amazing grace frees me from the guilt, shame, and disgust I feel because of my bad actions.  

So, as much as I may want to ask "why?"  As much as I may want to punish myself and wallow in my remorse, instead I will turn my eyes to God.  I will ask forgiveness, and let God's grace wash me clean.  I am doing it right now, as I write this.  I guess that's part of the reason I needed to write this.  To force myself to accept the grace and move forward.  To make myself accountable to the same lessons I try to instill in my children.  

God, thank you for your son, for the gift of life and the victory over death.  I don't deserve the sacrifice he made.  I am bad; I have a sinful heart; I sin repeatedly; I hurt the people around me; I hurt you.  Yet, you open your arms to me and call me closer.  You call me back to you and offer me a gift.  There aren't words to describe how grateful I am for your forgiveness.  I can't describe the joy I feel because of the freedom from sin your grace bestows upon me.  Help me to live in that joy and share it with everyone I meet.  Help me to leave the guilt and shame behind me, replacing them with love and joy. Amen. 

It Takes a Village

I am going to do what you should never do when trying to maintain the attention of an audience and start with a side note.  I just realized that this is my first post of 2018!  How did the first 18 days of the month go by so quickly?

As a parent in this modern world, there is so much pressure to "raise your kids right."  The way our kids turn out is considered by many a reflection of our skill as a parent and general ability to "adult" well.  I already put enough pressure on myself, so I often find myself wading knee deep in mommy guilt. That's when God always finds a way to bring me back to his truth.  These are his children entrusted to my keeping, and it is he who will save them, not me. 

This week has been one of those weeks.  I knew I had a busy week coming up at work, and Billy had to be out of town for work all week.  Just those two factors combined already had me a little nervous about how the week would play out.  On top of that, I sprained my wrist last week.  Then, Sunday afternoon, Fletcher wasn't acting like himself.  By dinner time, his temperature was up to 103.5 degrees Fahrenheit.  With the flu being so rampant this year, I immediately concluded it was the flu and decided to take him to the doctor first thing on Monday.  While they determined it was not the flu, it still took 3 days for his fever to completely disappear. 

While Fletcher was sick, my mother-in-law, my mom, Billy's aunt, and our nanny all jumped in to help out where they could.  I wish I could say I was not stressed and completely graceful about the whole situation, but I can truthfully say that the help I received from our village ensured my sanity stayed in tact.  Throughout the week, God was consistently there to help make sure everyone was cared for and everything got done that had to be done. I couldn't have done it myself, but I am not expected to.  It really does take a village to raise children, and this was one of those times when the village had to be called into action.  Moreover, God helped me to find beauty in some of the moments that could have either stressed me out or have been completely overlooked.

I used to hate asking for help from others.  It wasn't because I was proud or anything like that.  I honestly didn't want to inconvenience others with my needs.  That seems silly, but it's true.  My children have helped show me that those other people love me and want to help; my burdens aren't an inconvenience to them, but an opportunity for them to show their love.   So, to the village that showed their love this week by easing the burdens I faced, thank you from the bottom of my heart, and I love you too!