Tension Tamer Tea--the December Antidote!

There's nothing I love more than an herbal remedy.  Jars of fermenting kefir and kombucha are a staple on my kitchen counter.  Essential oils and diffusers are a fixture in every bedroom.  The medicine cabinet is stocked with an array of homeopathic bottles, the most colorful of which is KickAss Immunity Spray (the boys are still trying to figure out how the company's mom let them get away with that name!)  

A recent factory tour at Celestial Seasonings awakened a love for another all-natural elixir....tea!  I love a good cup of tea to ward off the afternoon munchies.  And tea in the evening is lovely, if only it didn't have me going to the bathroom all night.  But this week has brought the introduction of tea as a way to relax.  Tension Tamer tea.....I wonder if it will work?

The need for my own personal tension tamer became apparent on Monday morning.  We had a lovely first thirty minutes of the day reading Christmas books and our Advent calendar.  Backs were rubbed, kisses were distributed.  Everyone was relaxed and smiling.  Then, in typical Monday morning fashion, all hell broke lose. 

Kenny, my laser-focused 4th grader, readied himself and moved on to his December literary project for school.  Can we just take a minute to ponder how a literary project assigned in December is counterproductive to mental and possibly physical health?  In addition to baking, addressing, and wrapping, do I really need to be making sure my child completes a series of journal entries from the perspective of a character from the book "Holes"?  Can't December be for completing hand themed Christmas crafts, watching movies and sucking on candy canes? 

Back to Monday morning.....Kenny was working on his journal entry, hollering a word from the living room every thirty seconds (because in addition to cooking, cleaning, and chauffeuring, I am now also a talking dictionary!?)  In the meantime, Jacob and John were in their bathroom "getting ready", but really having a war with a spray bottle of water.  The bickering and ranting about the wrongs committed by the other was reaching an alarming decibel.  This perfect storm pushed me past the limits of sanity, and rather than continue to step into the shower, I stomped out of my bedroom to put a stop to the madness.  While evicting one of the Js from the boys' bathroom, I shouted at Kenny that if "HE NEEDED MORE WORDS SPELLED HE WOULD NEED TO MARCH HIMSELF INTO MY BATHROOM BECAUSE I CANNOT HEAR HIS YELLING OVER THE RUNNING SHOWER."  The fact that I was completely naked with a shower cap on my head was a nice touch to the tirade, and the final clue that I might need something to ease my tensions.  Ha!   

So this Tension Tamer tea has been a daily companion.  I don't know if its doing any good, but it does force me to slow down long enough to boil water and let it steep.  I sip it while sitting in the carpool line with tension taming scents greeting the boys and hopefully having a second-hand effect. 

Whether or not the ingredients have any impact on tension, the process of drinking it reminds me to relax.....to be a little more like Mary, pondering all these things in my heart, and a little less like Roseanne screeching at her sitcom kids.  Come to think of it, I better go buy more Tension Tamer tea before they sell out!

Adventures in Advent

It's December 3 and I'm not sure where our bonus week went.  Last week I was all relaxed and feeling ahead of the Christmas game, what with having the decorations up the day after Thanksgiving and all.  Now I'm frantically searching for my bag of nativity finger puppets, a must-have for active boys' engagement in daily advent readings.  I found a Mary under a chair, and my suspicions are the crew of holy characters have been conscripted into the Lego/army battle set up in the basement, or they have become victims of Nerf gun target practice.  It all leaves me feeling a little disheveled. 

We carried on with our advent reading this morning, despite the missing props.  I found comfort in the realization that I'm not the only one feeling disheveled.  The Israelites were living under Roman oppression:  unable to practice their religion freely, and faced with taxation without representation.  There was no Mayflower boat to carry them to a new world, so they hunkered down and waited for the savior Isaiah predicted.

The oppressed people surely had a strong picture of what this savior would be....an unbeatable warrior like Sampson, or a wise and rich king like Solomon.  Their expectations were high, and rightly so.  The Jewish people had experienced God's faithfulness countless times in their history.  God had parted the Red Sea to facilitate their escape from Egypt.  He had leveled the city of Jericho without a soldier's sword to deliver on the promise of living in a land of their own. 

The Jew's expectations were so honed in on one thing, that they weren't prepared for the Savior God actually sent.  They weren't willing to see a baby in a manger as their promised salvation.  They were so worried with the circumstances of their world, they missed the bigger picture.  Living under Roman rule was no picnic, but it was a temporary situation.  God was sending the Savior of all saviors.  This Savior was concerned with leading people's hearts out of slavery more than their bodies.  His goal was to establish a heavenly kingdom rather than a kingdom of this world. 

So no matter where you find yourself on the spectrum of disheveledness and misplaced expectations, you can be assured you're not the only one.  It's not about having your props in place, lists made, and parties planned.  It's about the wonderful knowledge that God is faithful and works in unexpected ways.  It's our job to be on watch, so we don't miss the unexpected. 

"For unto us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end."  Isaiah 9:6-7

Thinking about Thanksgiving

What a Thanksgiving week!  Normally any holiday would find us in the car, trekking to spend time with family in the Midwest.  We stayed put this year, with my Mother-In-Law visiting from Michigan.  It was a great week, and wonderful Thanksgiving, filled with hiccups that will insure we remember the day for years to come.  The turkey, after three days in the fridge, was still frozen solid on Thanksgiving morning.  So instead of relaxing with a cup of coffee and the Macy's parade, we commenced "Operation Turkey Thaw".  We managed to thaw it enough to remove the innards and pop it in the oven by 9AM.  My husband, the great turkey cooker, pulled the turkey out a few hours later to check the progress only to spill half of the juice all over the oven and floor.  So the leisure time I planned for primping, perhaps even painting my nails was replaced with "Operation Turkey Grease Cleanup".  And that's when we decided to have a glass of wine!:-)

In addition to the memorable Thanksgiving day, we spent the week breaking bad habits and instilling good ones.  One of the boys sucks his fingers, and we received the threat of braces from the dentist.  Upon seeing their brother's reward pile, the other two quickly identified behaviors they needed to improve.  One boy resolved to stop picking his lip while the third set his sights on practicing his instruments without being reminded.  I made charts, we picked out more prizes, and then we hunkered down for the week.  

Each boy showed an amazing dedication to behavior modification, which meant a check mark on the chart each day.  Prizes were earned, praises were heaped, and just a few breakdowns were endured (turns out that sucking fingers provides a level of pleasure that only the most addicted drug addict could appreciate, and quitting cold turkey proved painful for everyone in the household!)  The difficulties were worth enduring because the end result was three boys that have been molded a little more into healthy humans.  It also gives me the opportunity to add a check mark to the I'm-A-Good-Mom chart, which I tirelessly track in my head.

An additional bonus for me (besides a few more gray hairs) has been a greater understanding of God as the potter for my life.  Isaiah 64:8 says, 

   "Yet you, Lord, are our Father.
    We are the clay, you are the potter;
    we are all the work of your hand.  

So just as I work as a parent to mold my children into productive members of society, God molds me into the perfectly unique versions of myself, made in His image.  He sees when a bit of clay needs to be removed, or a bit added to perfect my shape.  He knows when I need to rest.  His timing is perfect as he places me in the kiln to be exposed to heat and transformed into a stronger vessel.  He picks the perfect glaze to give me a color that will make the biggest impact on the world.

Its not my place, as the clay, to tell God what to do.  My job is to yield to his touch, to submit to his plans, and to have faith that the end result will be more magnificent than I could ever imagine.  

What a peace-filled promise to know that, unlike cooking a feast for Thanksgiving, we're not responsible for a perfect outcome.  We have God, the potter.  We can entrust ourselves to Him, knowing that the end-product will be beyond our wildest dreams.

Killing It

“I never expected to be a stay at home mom, but here I am killing it!”  

A friend gave me this plaque, which sits above my kitchen sinks. Most days, it serves as a comical joke at how short I am falling, but this week....I’m living up to my plaque potential!  

Yesterday was the second grade fieldtrip to the Nature and Science Museum—killed it!  Not only did I keep track of all five assigned kids, but we thoughtfully perused the museum, asked good questions of the dossiers, and even found the knolls hidden around the museum.  

Today was 4th grade’s poetry reading and the school’s Thanksgiving lunch—killed it!  Arrived on time for poetry reading, remembered to video my child, and followed teacher request to provide written feedback for two different students....check and check.  

Kenny’s scroll featuring his poem “Colorado”

Thanksgiving lunch was its own monster...two different lunchtimes, which I navigated without completely embarrassing my three boys.  I even ended up with a bonus boy.  (His Mom had a broken toe and was home with his older brother who had “thrown up last night...and the dog ate it!”  😳)

But I can feel my super powers waning.  We’re sitting at the dentist waiting room, where I am completely ignoring my children.  The Mom next to me is killing it, with cuddling and having meaningful conversation with her kids.  I want to lean over and whisper, “I’ve been killing it for the past two days!”  And we’re just minutes away from a dental cleaning, which is sure to include admonishments regarding parental brushing in children under the age of 8.

The truth is we all have our limits as humans.  Just when we think we have nailed it, we screw it all up.  Thank goodness our “killing it” at life isn’t a prerequisite to be loved by our Heavenly Father.  He is more perfect than the best mom out there, and loves even the worst mom out there.  So as I feel my super powers fade, I know His love for me doesn’t.  What a sweet  reassurance!  

So whether you’re killing it today, or giving a nasty side-eye to  the mom that is, you can take a breath and REST in His promise of Psalm 23:4 “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of fieldtrip chaperone, I will fear no second grader, because God is with me.”  (Mommy Translation). Feel free to make that verse your own.  Whether it’s a trip to Disney or a trip to the doctor.  Whether you’re killing it or feel like you’re being killed by it, God is with you!  What a relief!

Time Change Tantrums

It's time change week as well as the week after Halloween, so you can guess how things are going around here!  The boys were up shortly after 6AM yesterday, and by 7 a brother brawl of epic proportion had broken out.  I sent everyone back to their rooms to cool off while I pressed coffee and hunkered down for the day, pondering my former love of the fall turning of the clocks. 

Before I became a mother, fall time change was the bomb.  An extra hour to catch up on sleep after a night out was the immediate payoff.  The longer term bonus was getting an early morning workout in thanks to my internal clock's confusion.  Awaking at 5AM for a workout is not part of my genetic makeup, but for the precious few months following time change, I can hang with the most dedicated fitness fanatic. 

Fall time change has fallen from it's former status of one of the best days of the year to a day that I have to suffer through and recover from for weeks.  I just need to accept my new reality and look forward to springing forward and boys who sleep in for a change. 

The reality for every one of us is that God is constantly changing our season in life.  Parenting is the perfect example since we master one age's worth of activities, discipline and sleep schedules only for our child to outgrow what we've mastered and challenge us with figuring out a new set of activities, discipline and sleep schedules.  It's neverending! 

As frustrating as change may be at times, we can be assured that God always has a specific purpose in mind.  Isaiah 43:18-19 reveals how He views change, "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.  See, I am doing a new thing!  Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?"  God is reminding His people that He has changed their season from one of slavery in Egypt to one of freedom, and that He is in the process of changing their hearts to prepare them for the future, which is sure to be different from the past in the very best ways.

This reminder can serve as a comfort and promise to us as well.  Rather than dwelling on what we loved in our past and wanting to hold on to it, we are called to look and see the new thing God is doing in our lives!  The past and present is merely a preparation for our future.  So we can take comfort every time the clock changes and leaves life in disarray, knowing that the next season brings opportunities to discover God's plan for us.

From a parenting perspective, we wouldn't want children who didn't learn and grow and change.  That would send us straight to the pediatrician for a thorough evaluation.  We should have the same expectation for our own lives.  Our hearts and minds should be constantly changing and growing.  We should be looking forward to the new thing because with it, we know that God still has plans for us!   

Beaches are the Best!

Is there anything so lovely as a day at the beach?  No one fights over sand. Or maybe they do fight, but I don’t hear them over the crashing of waves.  Lovely. 

Our condo has a balcony full of beach swag...boogie boards, sand toys, beach chairs and even an umbrella.  The complex sits on Oceanside’s beach. We just need the will to brave a cool breeze and chilly waters.  The boys have been digging random holes in the sand for hours.  There must be a method to their madness, but we have yet to identify it.  They dig with such fury that Kenny has a sore on his hand, rubbed raw from the wooden handle of the shovel.  

John as a dedicated servant to the sand kept his brothers on task all day. (They kept getting distracted by the ridiculousness of waves and boogie boards.)

I was amazed at the strategy to dig holes and build sand castles close to the surf.  The game, see which holes and castles last the longest.  Of course the ocean always wins.  They aren’t disturbed in the least by this, but rather motivated to build another round.  I’m realizing the similarity between beach play and cleaning bathrooms, and I’m making a mental note to free myself of this frustrating duty at home.  Surely the boys will enjoy cleaning bathrooms as much as digging in sand?  Both are endless, futile tasks!

After two days of standing in line and fighting crowds for every step, it’s a breath of fresh air to be footloose and fancy free. Though I did see unidentified finned creatures beyond the first breaking waves, so I’m not absolved of all anxiety.   Sticking to the waist-deep-in the-ocean rule—I love my rules:-). 

One more day in paradise before returning to an early winter in Colorado.  My only concern is the imminent end to a beach read that has captured my heart.  Darin keeps bursting my bubble with talk of having the sprinkler system blown out and other none sense.  Can it man!  We’re at the beach❤️.

Disneyland and Sensible Shoes

It’s fall break, and you know the Bolthouse’s can’t stay put for a weekend let alone a full week off from school.  This adventure takes us to California for Disneyland, California Adventure and a few days on the beach. 

We’re starting with a bang—earning our time at the beach with two days at Disney parks. This morning saw us out the door by 7am to breakfast at IHOP before walking into the park.  Darin is an expert navigator using the Disney App to get fast passes and anylze wait times to minimize lines.  By 10AM, just two hours into our visit, our ride count was 6.  We were strutting through the park, proud as peacocks at our theme park savvy.   It’s now 2:40 and we’re dragging ourselves around like the walking dead, having only ridden an additional three rides.  

I’m hunkered down in the shade awaiting our fast pass for Indiana Jones to become eligible while Darin takes our nearly hysterical boys in search of frozen lemonade.  We’ll drag ourselves back to the hotel for a nap and swim after our adventure with Indiana.  The hope is to outlast the crowds and return in the early evening to close down the park at midnight.  If love of our children is ever in question, this day will be key evidence.  

The last three hours have been torture.  It’s a solid mass of people and insane lines everywhere.  So when I saw an open spot in the shade—I claimed it like white settlers invading the west...which seems an apt analogy given that I’ve taken up residence in Frontierland.  

My spot is perfect for people watching, and can I just say that the number adults sporting Mickey wars and/or insensible shoes is shocking?  I am all for a cute shoe, but anything other than your most supportive athletic shoe seems insane for a day at Disney...with or without mouse ears!  I’ve just walked about 5 miles zig zagging between different sections of the park.  Minimizing time in lines certainly maximizes walking distances!  Toms, wedges, flip flops, and strappy heels are speeding past me as I lounge on a brick wall in my tennies.  I would be crying and walking barefoot if I found myself in their shoes.  I’m nearly crying in my brand new Brooks runners. 

This turns into just another reminder that I’m in my 40s, and sounding more like my Mom every day.  We had our fair share of debates on appropriate clothes and shoes through the years...and we’re finally seeing eye-to-eye.  I’ve come around to the sensible side.  Apparently Disneyland is a magical place!

Charlotte's Web, the Tooth Fairy....and God

We had another exciting tooth loss this week.  Jacob and John are up to eight lost teeth between the two of them.  I have managed to facilitate a tooth fairy visit in all sorts of circumstances....camping, visiting Grandparents, and thankfully this week at home.  Jacob, not knowing he even had a loose tooth, surprised us all while presenting his latest loss while eating an afternoon apple.  

For once, I was thrilled that 1) we were at home and 2) I had cash in my wallet.  But wouldn’t you know that Jacob failed to put his tooth under his pillow.  It sat all night on my kitchen counter, and I couldn't decide if I should move it to his pillow for him, leave it on the counter, or throw it away.  It took every ounce of laid-backness in me (which is not very much) to leave it on the counter and try again the next night when he remembered to put it under his pillow.  I managed to remember to be the tooth fairy, and it took Jacob two days and me asking before he realized his tooth had been replaced with two dollar bills!  We could all just take or leave the tooth fairy!?

On the same day as our tooth fairy indifference, I had John reading Charlotte's Web to me.  While we could take or leave the tooth fairy, we love Charlotte's Web.  I read it to the boys long before they could read, and now John is reading it on his own.  He took a break from his reading to inform me that Charlotte's Web is a very old (yes!), and a very popular (indeed!) book.  He also added that it is based on a true story (wait a minute!?).  Oh my....this boy has spent approximately six weeks out of every year on his Grandparent's farm.  How on earth could he think that talking farm animals are real?  We had a little discussion to correct his line of thinking, and then I prayed that he wasn't hearing voices in his head every time he saw a spider (which is often now that it's fall and they seem to be everywhere!)

After dealing with the situation at hand, my mind turned to the fun things we do to raise our boys, and the faith we're trying to instill in them.  I’ve had more than one conversation with friends concerning elaborate plans involving the tooth fairy, Santa and the Easter Bunny, and other conversations about how to eventually wean our children from this fairy tales.  

And then there’s the debate regarding the risk of ruining our kids’ faith in God with the fun traditions of  childhood.  I’ve settled on my own logic regarding this....it’s more important to live out our faith with our kids every day than it is to be brutally honest about where a lost tooth goes when it’s replaced with $2 (that’s the Bolthouse tooth fairy’s going rate:-).  So I rest easy now, without the pressure of how well or unwell I perform the roles of various fantasy figures in my kids’ childhood, because one role I’m not playing is Savior.  What a relief!  Because one thing’s for sure—if I can’t manage the tooth fairy role, I’m certainly not qualified to attempt that of Savior—I’ll gladly leave that to God!

Camping in September *sigh*

One of the things we love about Colorado is its proximity to Utah.  The landscape of this barren land makes for amazing trips, but who would want to live there?   We look forward to annual trips to explore Arches, Dinosaur, or Zion National parks...trips that are planned six months in advance to obtain coveted camp sites.  

The excitement of making reservations online from the cozy comfort of the sofa in March turns into the reality of the trip, in this case delaying our departure for a non-negotiable work meeting, only to delay again to obtain a pediatric strep test (which thankfully came back negative).  

Our reality continued to be “memorable” (code for so terrible we’ll remember this the rest of our lives!).  Four hours of mountain driving with two sniffling kids took a turn for the worse when our particularly dramatic third-born launched into frantic screaming over a tummy ache. 

Care to guess which child has a future in drama?  In this case, he was SO HOT!

We viewed our stop for the night as an oasis of air-conditioned, soft-bed goodness before two nights of tent camping.  The disappointment of an alternate reality nearly broke me.  John (the drama king) was up throughout the night, transporting me to the days of having a new-born.  Let’s take a minute to appreciate newborns, because while they may be up a lot in the night, they do not get out of their bed!  

The same can not be said for John, who managed to mistake the door to the hall for the bathroom door.  I awakened to crying from some distant location.  He was wandering up and down the hotel hall, knocking on doors and crying to be let in😳.  We managed to awaken with our family intact, and erased memories of the painful night with breakfast and swimming.  

With renewed excitement for adventure, we stocked up on gas, ice and firewood and pointed our Chevy west, chanting “Utah or bust!”

Sigh of relief—we made it!  (A little part of me thought we might bust!)

The views of barren dessert were quickly replaced by amazing rock formations as we wound our way through Arches National Park.  The Canyon Wren group campsite inside the Devil’s Garden campground made us feel like VIPs as we skipped the day use crowds.  The site was filled with sand and rock formations that made for incredible sunrise/sunset viewings and a dream playground for the kids. 

The excitement increased with each family’s arrival until we were 10 kids and 8 adults strong.  The adults set up camp and dig through coolers for happy hour refreshment while the kids out their imaginations to work.  They quickly developed a “mine” and established multiple levels of jobs.  

We feasted in all things Mexican for dinner and set out for an evening hike to Landscape Arch.  Our group of 18 was a meandering train, with the 8 kids pulling us along like a powerful steam engine.  I found myself towards the back and laughing as a millennial couple passed by wondering out loud “what the deal was with all of those kids!”   
Landscape Arch just after dark—with a bunch of kids not in the mood for a picture 🤪

Our adventure continued on day 2 with a hike to Delicate Arch.  We passed by an 1800’s homestead and wondered who would be crazy enough to live in the Utah desert before the advent of air conditioning.  We laughed and joked with the Buckeye in the group when we read the family had moved from Ohio😂.  

Upon arriving at the Arch, our group informally broke into two parties, the brave and the not-so-brave.  There was a flat, rock wall and beyond it a steep, sloping slab of rock.  The brave managed to convince the not-so-brave that life is short and their’s would be incomplete without tackling their fears!  There was all manner of crawling and kissing the ground, but we did it!

Our brave and fearless group!

We returned to camp for lunch and shade before having fire roasted pizzas and hiking to Broken Arch.  
Our group hike turned into a date night after Darin tripped, lost his sandal and stepped on a cactus😫.  Being the loving wife that I am, I hung back with him to pick needles out of his toes.  And I have a new appreciation for the washing of feet that takes place throughout the New Testament.  We ended up traversing the desert in the dark, trying our best to discern the trail with our headlamps.  It was equal parts scary and romantic.

Day 3 arrived too soon!  We all wished for one more night, but school and work were waiting.  We shook off sand, packed up vehicles, and checked out Turret Arch on our way out of the park.  

The drive home was spent napping and remembering favorite things about the weekend.  We stopped at Wendy’s for a late lunch.  And may I just add the very best taco salad and frosty I have ever tasted!!

So I guess my husband was right again.  I went into the weekend thinking a new family rule needed to be “no weekend trips after the kids are back in school”.  Now I’m wondering when we can sneak away again.  We may be tired, and I am sure to spend the next week cleaning sand out of every nook and cranny, but the memories we made and the friendships we fed will be around long after the sand has been cleaned up.  

The passing of time and seasons...

Two years?  How can that be?  Inches and pounds have been gained (on behalf of our three boys, not Darin and I—whew!) And the VERY long days of preschool is a distant memory.  It all proves the saying, “the days are long but the years are short” truer than I ever imagined.  

This blog served as an outlet for a pent-up mama during naptime.  It was a tool for survival when I felt cornered by life. Now I’m the only one taking naps and the kid-free daytime hours fly by.  This change of season has taken some getting used to.  I’ve remodeled, organized, exercised, and studied but am still left wondering.  What am I supposed to do with the 1-2 hours of unscheduled time during my day?  

Life has come full-circle and I’m back to writing—something that brings me joy and taps into the small trickle of creativity that flows through me.  It’s good to be back!