Is My Highlight Reel, Real?

What's on your mind?

"Enjoying my hot cup of coffee while snuggled on the couch watching the rain fall melodically. It's so nice and relaxing. I just love mornings when I have quiet time with my Bible, Jesus, and my coffee!" (insert smiley face, heart, cross, umbrella and coffee mug emoticon.)

Reading this, one would think my morning is quiet, quaint, and perfect. It's definitely a "highlight reel." I could just take a snapshot of my coffee mug, my feet propped up on the coffee table and the raindrops on the window. Maybe light a couple candles, make sure my Bible is in the picture...because, you know, I'm a Christian. I read it every morning.

But here's the thing. If I had been totally, 100% real, this is what I would have written instead:

I am sitting here drinking my freshly brewed cup of coffee, between moments of being interrupted because my three year old can't seem to do anything without my help or me being near him. As I am gazing out the window at the rain, I am thinking about how peaceful being in a rain forest would be right about now, because I have just dealt with two major temper tantrums and it's not even eight o clock in the morning! So far I have dealt with a melt down (someone wanted cookies for breakfast), a fight over who sings louder, and tears from hands being sticky. I have dished out medicine because two out of three kids are not feeling well, and I have panicked, thinking that I forgot to put the trash on the curb. I went to bed last night thinking about how my life should be in a much better place by now (I'm 30 for crying out loud!!), because only deep thoughts happen at night when I get a moment of quiet to think about life's major problems. I fell asleep, only to wake up to enjoying my cup of coffee in between real life. The thought to spike my coffee, actually occurred, and this morning, I have yet to dive into my Bible reading. In fact, I probably won't get around to it this morning. (Gasp!) I did pray; I prayed that my kids would behave today and that I would make it through this day. I prayed for my husband's safety. As a pilot's wife, I worry a lot for him, but I've learned that praying is a lot easier and nicer than losing my mind over it. Lately, prayer has become my source of sanity...and my coffee is cold now.

Phew! Can anyone relate??

I mean, that isn't what we want people to see or hear, but why? Why has real life become so taboo to portray on social media? I get not wanting to see someone always complaining and always being negative about their life; it's not something I want to see everyday, but what about the hardships, the struggles, the low times we sometimes have? What about the tantrums, the meltdowns, the spilled milk, the sticky hands, the disappointments, the hard stuff?? It's become too easy to mask and cover what really happens with the right adjectives. A few warm, cozy words. Just the right lighting at just the right angle to get just the right picture.

It's really funny, I used to get SO mad at my husband for pulling out the video camera when the kids were being rotten and throwing a tantrum or fighting over something. I would think, "I am not going to want to look back at this!! What is the point? Is he trying to embarrass them?" Then one day, I watched something he had recorded when the boys were just little things and were having a little fight. There was crying, pushing (as hard as babies can push each other), and then there was my husband standing there watching it happen for just a couple minutes, capturing their sinful nature; their struggle with one another and wanting to be first. And I realized that I actually like watching everything he records now, because it's us. It's real. Regardless of what it is, whether or not I want other people to see it, or whatever, it's our reality. Struggling to raise children together, and taking on everything that goes with that. Realizing that our children have so far to go, that we have so far to go as parents. And that I have so far to go as a wife and a mother. But, it's also the reminder of how far they have come, and how far we have come. Because in the midst of the not-so-perfect reel, every once in awhile, there is a great highlight reel that we capture. When the kids are dancing together, playing quietly together, reading books together, or when I do have a morning free of interruptions. Those are the times that stand out because they don't always happen.

But why mask everything?? Why mask the real stuff? Here's a thought: instead of posting your "highlight" reel, post your real highlights. Including everything--the nitty-gritty, hard-to-swallow, everyday stuff that comes with life. That doesn't mean you have to post it all the time all over social media (I would encourage you not to!). But I know that every once in awhile, seeing other moms do what we do in reality--ie.the daily grind--would be encouraging for me.

So, what's on my mind? Some mornings I am able to sit and quietly enjoy my coffee without interruptions and without it getting cold. But today is just not that day, and I'm not going to pretend that it is. Because some "highlight reels" should just be real.

Why 2015 Was My Hardest Year

2015.

What a year.

This morning I woke up swimming in my own thoughts about this past year. It was a wild ride for me. More wild than the past 6 years have been combined. And I've had some pretty crazy, tough times.

But nothing could have prepared me for 2015 and the emotional roller coaster I was about to embark on.

I thought getting married was a huge change, and I thought having kids was an even bigger change. I thought moving across the country to live in a state with my new husband was hard. It was bold, for sure. But it wasn't that hard. It wasn't easy, but it really was a breeze compared to last year.

I also thought moving from the place that I had had my two boys, was thriving in a church that both my husband and I adored, where my best friend lives, where so many amazing memories were made--I thought that was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Turns out, that paled in comparison to 2015.

2015 turned me upside down and inside out and backward and forward and really, every which way. And now that it's over, I am left with the questions, "Did I handle it with grace and dignity? Did I embrace it with exuberance and ardor? Was I an example of Christ despite the overwhelming emotions that plagued me day after day?"

Sadly, I don't feel as though I passed that test. Most of the year I found myself dealing with anxiety, anger, confusion, and blurriness. I lashed out at my husband and my kids because I was dealing with feelings that I have not had to face in a very long time. And I had questions racing through my brain that I couldn't answer.

You see, at the beginning of the year, my husband took a job. This new job moved us to a different state. A state that I was very familiar with. The state that I vowed to never move my kids to. And let me tell you something. I didn't just make up this vow when I had kids...I vowed to myself LONG before I had a family of my own that I would NEVER move my children to the place that I grew up. But, that's exactly what happened.

2015 was my hardest year because I had to make a choice. I had to choose to move with my husband (yes, I struggled hard with this..judge me if you want) or stay where I have called home for the past 10 years.

I chose to move.

Honestly, the move was pretty easy. And I arrived in the town I grew up in with hopeful expectation that it was going to be a great year. I mean, how could it not be? I got to finally be with my older sister who was my best friend growing up! For that, I am so thankful that I made the decision to move, but that is also why it's been the most emotional year I've ever had. I haven't lived near my sister in 10+ years. I didn't know what to expect, but things sure did change. We both had kids now. We weren't teenagers anymore. We've both been through things the other didn't even know about. We both have missed so much of each other's lives it hurts just thinking about it. When we were little, we would tell each other everything. We had a bond between us that was so thick nobody could break it. And when I first arrived, I thought that bond was weak. And maybe it was a little. But a year has proved that really, that hasn't changed. It didn't take us long to pick up where we left off. It was obviously in a different, more adult way now. But she is still the same older sister I grew up with.

It wasn't just the emotional roller coaster of living near my sister again though that caused 2015 to be crazy. I found myself facing demons that I had left behind over 10 years ago and quite frankly, did not think I would ever have to face again. And they would pop up at random times and catch me off guard and kick me in the gut that sometimes I would feel breathless. The first time I drove by the place that I literally had to shove a guy off of me in order to not be raped, I almost had to pull over. When I got home, I cried and I let myself feel everything. The anger, the shame, the guilt...everything.

One day, I drove down the street I grew up on. I drove past the house that literally shaped my childhood. The same house that my dad passed away in. I choked up as memories were brought to the front of my mind. Only this time, I didn't push them away. I felt them hard. Resentment. I think that's a good word for what I felt the most in regards to my dad. I resented him for not giving me closure before he died. I resented him for the things he said and did when I was a teenager. I resented him for so many things, too many things. I realized I was still holding on to those feelings and then, I was angry with myself because I thought I had moved past that. Apparently not.

These are only a couple examples of the gut-wrenching emotions that overcame me. There were countless number of times that I would fill up with tear-jerking memories. They are around every corner of this town. And a lot of the time, I silently dealt with these things. I realize now that maybe I didn't have to. Maybe if I hadn't felt the need to deal with everything myself, this year would have gone differently for me. Truth is, I was too prideful to confide in my husband. I didn't want to burden anyone, especially him, who has been trying to secure our family's future by taking job after job, and moving our family here and there. I didn't want him to feel guilty for moving us here (although I treated him that way at times).

I know that moving here was the best thing. Being with my husband was the right thing, not just for the kids, but for us. However, more than anything, it was the best thing for me. By allowing myself to feel everything, I have allowed healing to begin. After years and years of shoving everything deeper and deeper, I am finally feeling free. Free of guilt, shame, regret, remorse...

Is 2016 going to be easier? I get the feeling it isn't. I mean, for starters, we're moving back which means I have to once again say good bye to my sister and my grandma and my nephews that I have come to know in such a meaningful way. I will be starting this year on another emotional roller coaster. A sad one. But also a happy one. And I get to take these new memories with me and hopefully allow the good ones to keep me moving forward.

And maybe this year, instead of storing my feelings and thoughts to myself, I will rely on God, my husband, my family, and those close to me to help me through. And maybe I will pass 2016 with flying colors.

Happy New Year, everyone.

Homesick for my parents

My heart is homesick. Years ago, when I was 19, I left my home state California to pursue a new adventurous life with my family. We moved to Washington. I was so happy to be leaving the desert, the boring-ness, the going-nowhere-place I was in at the end of my teen years. But I was so sad to leave my friends, my ocean, and most importantly, my older sister and Grandma. It was a bittersweet time. Now, I realize I didn't have much time to process every single emotion that I was feeling because everything happened so fast. When my parents made the decision to sell our house and move out of the state, I was on a four month mission trip in Peru. And when I came home at the end of that glorious trip, two months later we were packed up and leaving. I remember the day we left. I remember being so, so excited and yet, extremely sad and a little bit fearful. People from where I'm from don't just leave. They just don't. They are born, they live, and they die in the valley. Yep. That's how it is. And yet, I somehow knew that I would never die here. I have always thought there was something more out there. There had to be more than living in a desert where there's absolutely nothing to do, where everyday you wake up and when you open the windows, the smell of cow poop permeates through the entire house, and where gangs run rampant, and where you have to hide like Anne Frank if you homeschool and someone comes to the door because you can't trust anyone. Seriously. This was my reality growing up. And now, only now that I am back here, living for but a short time here in the same place I vowed to never come back to, do I understand why my dad was so protective of us. He knew. He understood that this wasn't a good place and you can't trust strangers here. And he died here. Too young, but I wonder if he hadn't died when he did, would he have left this place? I guess it doesn't matter now that he's in a much nicer place. Well, now, after 11 years, I am back. And maybe I am back for a reason. Maybe God needed me to be here to come face to face with those feelings that I wasn't able to comprehend then. Whatever the purpose, I am not dealing with it very well. And I hate to admit that, but it's the truth. I am not handling this situation with the grace that I could be handling it with. It's hard! It's so difficult to wake up and think, yay! Another day here! Yay! Another day of draught... another day of so-hot-you-don't-want-to-do-anything!!! A few things I've learned in the past couple of years doing tons and tons of personal development, is that I have the power to choose what my attitude will be. I may not be able to control the situation that arises, but I can control my reaction to the situation. In this part, I have failed. I have failed to face this with a positive attitude, with grace and love. I have failed to look at the glass as half full. Part of this, is like I said, I am homesick. And, it's not so much that I'm homesick for Washington, because I love Washington, but I love Oregon more... but, I'm homesick for my family. I'm homesick for my mom. I am 30 years old (gosh, I hate writing that!), and I still am missing her like I am a kid at summer camp. Yep. Call me crazy. But if anyone who is reading this knows her, well... you get it. She is the person that is so wise, so giving, so go-out-of-her-way for you. When we are together, we will sit for hours and talk about life. I'll lay on her bed and watch her fold laundry while flipping through a home decorating magazine. She is just that person. If anyone here on earth was born to be a mother, it is mine. She literally encompasses everything a mother should be and she has risen to the title and the occasions. I guess that's why we all of my siblings and I have such a deep, deep respect for her. But, it's not just her that I'm homesick for. I also am missing my stepdad. Like a lot. Like so much, I can't stand it sometimes. Being back here in my hometown has brought up so many memories and emotions of my biological dad who passed away when I was 14. And Fain, well, he brought life back into our family. Our family that was so broken, so void of knowing the love of an earthly father. He is wise beyond years, he brings balance to our craziness because he is such a calm, soft-spoken man. And yet, he accepted us. He protects us, he loves us unconditionally. And that's why my heart is homesick. Because of those two people right there. My mom and dad. Because when my heart is unsettled, yes, I turn to God, but here on earth, I turn to them. I let Fain wrap me in one of his tight hugs and I lay on my mom's bed and talk to her about everything I need to get off my chest. For that, I am homesick. I can't change the fact that I am here again. I can't change that my kids are missing a year of relationship with their grandparents. I can't help some of the feelings that are arising about my dad, about leaving this place, about coming back to this place... all I can change is my reaction to all that. And I can certainly trust God that I am here for a bigger reason than I can see right now. Because all I can see is that I am so homesick, so unsettled, so wanting to move away again. To be near them, to be near safety. But for now, I will hold my chin up and continue on. Fall is coming, a new season. And I know that with Him, everything is possible. Even surviving in a desert that is so flat and ugly and smells like cow poop. :)

It's Okay To Just Cry

Mom's, this one's for you today. For encouragement and for sanity in a chaotic world with crazy kids.

I have had one heck of a week. I feel drained. I feel tired. But after this morning, I feel better. Wanna know why? Let me explain.

We live in a world that is dominated by positive Facebook posts where only happy things are told to create a snapshot picture of a perfect life and where Pinterest is showing us how we can create that picture perfect life by solving any problem we can think of--from disciplining, to hands on crafts for the kids, to perfect healthy meals that can be on your table every night with little effort and little time. We are constantly bombarded with solutions. If our kids are driving us crazy we are told to cut out the technology, stop feeding them food with red dye in it, just say NO. If we are tired and overwhelmed, we are told to take a "time-out" and refuel ourselves with a cup of caffeine or we just need an hour by ourselves to go shopping without being bothered. We are told we need to find a routine that works for everyone and if we can only get the stars to align then everything will fall into place. Moms, we have heard it all. And I thought I had heard it all too. Until this morning.

Like I said, it had been a long week. I was feeling it. The kids were stressing me out and my husband took no full days off. I needed a break. I woke up early to collect my thoughts, have a cup of tea without being disturbed and to write about my frustrations with the week. However, that plan wasn't meant to be. As soon as I sat down in my rocking chair with a cozy blanket, the space heater facing toward me and a pen and paper, I heard little feet coming across the room. My two year old was up and ready for the day. And right behind him, my four year old already asking for a bowl of cereal. My perfect plan for being by myself disintegrated right before my eyes and I got up to take care of them fighting off the onset of tears. Seriously, was it too much to ask for just half an hour alone?! I pushed aside the urge to wake up my husband and fell into the morning routine. Luckily it wasn't long before he did wake up, so I took the opportunity to jump in the shower before he left to work on his one day off.

I felt defeated as I let the hot water run over me. I was mentally and physically exhausted and drained of energy. I wanted to cry. I felt it in my throat, my eyes were misty but I couldn't. There were voices in the back of my mind telling me I was fine. Don't lose it now; you've made it all week long so what's one more day? YOU.CAN'T.CRY.NOW.

I thought back, why? Why can't I cry now? Why can't I lose it? I am drowning here!

Because moms don't cry unless we're watching a sappy show or crying for one of our children because they hurt. We fix things. We kiss boo-boos and find long lost toys. We keep the house in order and our husbands happy. We post positive posts on Facebook hiding our frustration with life. We pin our recipes, ideas, and solutions to mask the out-of-control feelings we don't allow ourselves to feel. We push our feelings aside telling ourselves that we just need another hot, steaming cup of caffeine. We tell ourselves that we will pin better ideas, and find even better solutions. And then, everything will be fine.

I stood there in the shower, water pouring over me. And then it happened. A tear. It slipped. I didn't mean for it to, I was trying so hard to be strong. But, it did. And then another one. And another. I started sobbing. I couldn't stop. I was alone, naked and vulnerable and I let myself feel everything.

I cried about how much I missed my friends and my former MOPS group; I cried about being left at home again while my husband took his one day off to work. I cried about the house being in a constant state of chaos, about my lack of sleep, about not being able to sit and write in peace that morning. I cried about the uncertainty of my husband's job and even cried because I was crying. I was a wreck. And it felt good.

After I finally composed myself long enough to finish showering and dry off, I realized two things:

Moms are not encouraged to cry and we are certainly not encouraged to lose it.

Why not??! Why are we encouraged to chug another cup of coffee, spend money by ourselves, find the perfect star alignment, but we are not encouraged to let go?

Nobody told me it was okay to run away and sob until there's nothing left in me. But I did. Without consciously knowing that this was what I needed, I let myself go. And moms, this might be exactly what you need. We carry so much; we carry the weight of the world on our shoulders and that load is heavy! We need to lighten it; not mask it. We need to realize that it is okay to feel defeated and it is okay to retreat and surrender those feelings. I came out of that shower renewed and feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

I'm certainly not saying to always forego your cup of energy or not post positive things on social media. I'm not even saying to not pin your picture perfect life on your boards. Heck, sometimes those things help keep me sane!

All I'm saying is that if you're carrying a heavy load and if you feel like you're going to just lose it, it's okay if you do.

And it's certainly okay to just cry.

A Party and Cowboy Boots

October was a busy month! We celebrated our dear first boy's 4th birthday which was so much fun. As promised, I have pictures of the Willy Wonka banner that I made. The pictures don't do it justice; it added so much to the party and it was really, very easy to make.

Isn't that just precious! The glitter on the edges really added a special touch!

The cake was really fun to make as well. I just used A LOT of candy. To offset the sweetness of the candy, I used cool whip for the frosting. That is what my mom always used for birthday cakes growing up, and it's still my favorite cake "icing."

That is the SWEETEST smile from a happy 4 year old! (Pun intended!)

Only a week after the Wonka party, it was Halloween. That meant scrambling to buy or make three costumes. Remember the rain boots I painted Spider-Man style? Well, I had another pair of boots that needed to be made into special, adorable, and FUN boots! Lucky for me, my four year wanted to dress up like a cowboy...so...I got to try my hand at painting plain, black rain boots to look like cowboy boots. It was a success and I was SO excited at how easy they were to paint!

Can you believe how cute those turned out?! I may become obsessed with painting rain boots. The boys both love theirs, and I love how easy and cost-efficient it is to do.

Well, now we're into November and the start of the holiday season will be in full swing in just a few short weeks! Of course, here we've been listening to Christmas music for almost a month now. Hey, it's never too early to get into the holiday spirit! It's part of what makes it magical and fun for kids. And now that I am an adult with kids of my own, it's even more fun for me. ;)

Happy start of the Season!

Spider-Man Rain Boot Tutorial

I bought my boys a pair of rain boots that I found for a GREAT deal. They were buy 1 get 1 half off so I literally spent less than $20 for both pairs! However, they weren't anything special, just regular, plain, ole boots. What kid wants plain when there are so many non-boring ones out there?! The problem with those ones, is that you pay A LOT more for them, which I am just not willing to do. So, I came up with my own way to create special, adorable, non-expensive rain boots and I've been asked to share how I did it. I am going to share how I made boots that look like this:

<-----to look like this!

Aren't those just ADORABLE?! And so easy!

Here's what I used:

{Plain, red rain boots}

{Black Puffy Paint}

{White Puffy Paint}

You definitely want to use the Puffy Paint (fabric paint) because it can get wet and won't come off. If you use acrylics on the boots, the paint will crack and rub off when it gets wet. The puffy paint is where it's at with rubber boots!

Unfortunately, I didn't take pictures of every single step as I went a long, but I broke it down in steps for you that are easy to follow.

Step 1. Grab a fine Sharpie pen (or a regular pen) and begin marking your lines. It helps if there is a line that already goes straight down the middle like the boots that I used have. I just used that as a guide for where I wanted my eyes and web lines to begin. I added the vertical lines in the front first.

Step 2. Add your eyes, and then finish making the vertical lines all the way around the boot. Then, add lines to connect your web.

Step 3. Paint! Using your black puffy paint, trace the pen marks. I did the top half first so that I could hold the boot still. Fill the eyes in with your white puffy paint.

Step 4. Let dry.

Step 5. When the paint is completely dry (it will take a few hours) outline the eyes with more black paint. Then you're done!

My boy was so happy to wake up from his nap with new Spider-Man boots and I am SO happy I didn't have to break an arm and a leg so he can have adorable boots!

He has jumped in puddles with these, played in the rain, etc. and the paint has held up so far. Soon, I will be doing little cowboy rain boots too! Stay tuned!

Intercessory Prayer for our Children

There have been only a handful of times in my Christian life that I have clearly heard the voice of God. And it seems like those times only happen at night after everyone is asleep, and even, sometimes, after I am asleep. I can't say I blame Him; the only time I can hear my own thoughts is after the house is completely quiet. But these times that He will wake me up, or come to me when I am laying in bed thinking, are proving to be the most powerful times in my walk with Him. I have been able to intercede on behalf of those I love. I am more prone to listen and then take action by pouring out my heart and soul to Him.

Last night, my almost 4 year old woke up crying. Again. He's been doing this for awhile now. We'll lay him down in his bed, he'll fall asleep, but then an hour or so later, he will wake up. And cry. And last night, I had lost my patience with it. I was tired, I knew I needed to get decent sleep so that I could be up early to workout with my husband, and I was at my wit's end. As I lay there, almost in tears because my little boy was having such difficult nights all the time (which meant mommy was too), a familiar voice spoke to me. And I thought, "Really God? Right now? I am trying to get my kid back to sleep so that I can go back to sleep! Right now is NOT a good time for me." And I turned over and let poor Buddy cry on while I tried to fall asleep through it. God wasn't finished. With gentle nudges, He softened my heart enough to get me to listen. As I listened, He was telling me to pray. Pray for your son. He needs you to pray for Him.

Okay, you win God. I turned over to face my poor, whimpering boy. I didn't know why I was praying, or what I was praying for. I just knew I needed to act on what God was telling me to do. I began to pray. "Lord, I don't know what is wrong with Buddy. But you do. I need You to bring peace to him, calm him, release him from whatever it is that is bothering him." I put my hand on him and prayed for healing. I don't know what he needed healing from, but God did. Within minutes maybe even seconds of me praying and interceding for my boy, he stopped crying. He turned over and fell asleep and didn't wake up for the rest of the night.

Parents, we need to intercede for our children. Not just when they are troubled, not only when we are fed up with them. We need to be on our knees praying for them every day. We need to be praying for them morning, noon and night. Children don't always know what to pray for. We don't always know what to pray for, but if we are invested in their souls, we won't let a day go by that we don't intercede on their behalf. There are demons that try to destroy families. They roam around looking for whom to devour. Our job as Christian parents is to stand our ground at the front lines of the battlefield and FIGHT. Even if fighting means we get less sleep. Our children need us.

It is a spiritual fight we are fighting for our children's lives and if we are not ready and willing to stand up and fight or kneel down and pray for them, we may as well condemn them to a life that has no direction, no purpose. We are our children's warriors.

Jesus has interceded for us. He intercedes for us daily. Will we take our post at the front lines and do the same?

"Therefore He is able to save completely those who come to God through Him, because He always lives to intercede for them." Hebrews 7:25