StuckThis is the kind of day it is and I'm stuck inside doing laundry.  Trust me. If there were any way around it, I would leave it. BUT. When at seven o'clock in the morning, your son has no matched socks and your husband says, "Honey, do I have an undershirt?", you sorta have to remedy the situation. Happy Wednesday! Stacey | |
A Little Nothing
After last night's.....whatever that was, I thought a nice, breezy post full of mostly nothing was in order.
I bought some shoes that look a little bit like Tinker Bell's.
I think I like them. 
This girl makes me smile.
As a boy, my Dad loved marbles and had a lot of them. He keeps them in this old Cheez Balls can. My kids, especially Jake, HAVE to get them out whenever we go home.
It's one of the little things I love about Daddy.  
Happy Monday!
~Stacey | |
~The Main Thing~My faded, black yoga pants have spit up on the left leg. The kitchen table where I sit is nearly covered with bills I was just paying, a clipboard with Reese's artwork, cd's I've been burning, and my hot Eight O'Clock coffee.I went to bed last night a little defeated and perplexed. I had worked hard. All day. I can't say that every day but yesterday, it was the case. Lunches were packed, a shower was had, groceries were bought, laundry was cleaned, folded, and put away for hours. Kitchen was cleaned more than once, den was vacuumed, homework was done, baby was fed, held, rocked, and loved on, kids were retrieved from the neighbors, pants were delivered to the cleaners as promised, and dinner was made and served. Oh, and three games of Trouble were played. (Which was the best part of the day, but it took an hour. Nobody could roll a 6!) Guess what? All that and at 10:00 last night, I looked around and saw countless things still undone. The table didn't get fully cleared and the dishes didn't get completely done. I still have a suitcase on my bedroom floor full of clothes from a weekend trip. I could go on but I would rather get on with the good part of this story. As I fell in bed, my mind was flooded with not so happy thoughts like: Why can't I get it all done? I should be able to get it all done. Proverbs 31 says so. What am I doing wrong? I must be missing some fundamental in Wife/Mom 101. Why can't I measure up? Does everyone else feel like there is more work than time or am I the only one doomed to failure? Why don't I stay up til midnight doing housework like some other amazing women I know? I woke up, determined to press on, attack my kitchen, pray for strength and encouragement, and not be beaten by yesterday's frustrations. I woke up a little before 6, fed my hungry baby, loaded the dishwasher, made eggs for the kids, and dressed one very sleepy six year old. I went to the bathroom and there I heard a divine, gentle whisper. "Remember Mary and Martha? Read it again." Oh the grace that He gives me. The sweet mercy of meeting me at my point of need, no matter how silly or insignificant that need may seem. "She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made..... 'Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.'" (Luke 10) You are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Such a gentle correction. I don't think Jesus was mad that she was upset and worried. Martha was doing things that "had to be done"! Legitimate preparations. Things that were expected of her. Things that were in her job description. But had they all gone undone, it would have been okay. Better, even. Only one thing is needed. I don't want to miss the boat on doing that ONE thing. Every thing else is cream. Not critical. Not necessary. I am perfect IN Him but not in my humanness. I DON'T measure up in my own strength. Not supposed to. That's what makes being redeemed so sweet. So as I sit here with my Bible on my lap, I'm not so worried about the three little juice cups surrounded by crumbs that still sit on the bar from breakfast. I'm not upset by the box of saltine crackers or the unpacked lunch box from yesterday that are still on the counter. The fact that both my washer and dryer have clothes in them, despite my valiant effort yesterday, isn't so important. I'll get all those things done because I want to. But I wouldn't trade the love and encouragement I received this morning for a clean kitchen or done laundry. Ever. I'll be perfect one day, but until then I would do well to love God and love others. (The only eternal investment I have.) After all, the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.  As for the people who sit at His feet AND get everything else done.....I'm going to pretend those people don't exsist.  ~Some people I love:~    
~Held by a beautiful,100 year old lady~
 ~Her hands remind me that this is not our eternal home~
Going to play more Trouble with a four year old, then clean the kitchen. Yet again. And I don't mind one bit.
~Stacey | |
Sleep. Who Needs It.I've decided I'm just going to have to be tired for a few days.Between Brad sneezing, hacking, taking showers in the middle of the night in an attempt to clear out head congestion, the baby eating, and phone calls from the ER because Brad's on call, we've had a few consecutive nights of not enough sleep. I realize "enough" is a relative term but whatever that is for us, we haven't been getting it! I napped out of desperation one morning but felt so yucky because I got nothing done that day, I figured I'd rather be tired.....at least today that's my mode of operation. Besides, who needs sleep when you have coffee. I'll need to have my teeth whitened after the fact, but oh well. I've started my trek to get back in shape post baby.  Without fail, after every baby, I make two pivotal mistakes. #1 "Surely I'm not THAT out of shape!" Yes. I am.....and we'll just leave it at that. #2 Try on pre-baby clothes at about four weeks postpartum.ATTENTION PREGNANT PEOPLE: Don't do it. Huge mistake. You feel sorta skinny because hey!... You don't have a gigantic watermelon protruding from your body. But when your cute jeans refuse to go an inch beyond your hips, despite trying to convince yourself it's just because your bones have shifted due to child birth, reality sets in and you decide you better hit the treadmill or sidewalk and get back to all the lunges, crunches, and derriere lifts you can do. So here I am. But boy is it worth it.  Stacey~ | |
