The Fear of Parenting

Last Tuesday was a rough day...  

We all woke up late (alarm on silent) and I awoke just feeling generally crotchety. My kids woke up in fine form as well...  instant bickering and just pushing their limits. Ugh.

Welcome "The Bickersons".

For some reason or another, the season of facing my past has come, and I am having to uncover and deal with a lot of my past emotional baggage lately.

Quite frankly, IT STUNK.

I am remembering and thinking through things that happened EONS ago.  It's been a struggle as I air my own dirty laundry to myself and lay it before God. Honesty, true and brutal, it's ugly... I'm unwinding the threads of my past, breaking down the walls of resistance, taking responsibility for my life and forgiving wounds I bear that haven't been forgotten yet.

...

Back to Tumultuous Tuesday

I reacted and opened my mouth, spewing out some pretty acrid words and tones. Afterwards, I felt that all too familiar rock settle into the pit of my stomach.

Quickly amends were made, tears shed, arms and hands intertwined as we hugged and "made up", we each prayed, asking forgiveness and walked out the door, feeling like we were "OK".

Still, that rock remained in my stomach.

As I dropped the kids off, watched them walk inside that giant building with their little feet pattering, heads bobbing as they chattered, backpacks thumping on small bent backs, I felt like crying.

Driving home I fought tears.

When I got home, I gave in, sat in my "prayer" chair and let it go. I cried, reasons unknown, and just let the tears flow. As I sat, nestled in the corner of our giant chair, I expressed to God how hard parenting is. Parenting is THE hardest and most complex job on the planet. It's even more cumbersome when you carry your own emotional battles into the realm of parenthood. Parenting is imperfect because WE are imperfect.

I fear being a poor parent.  Making mistakes and scarring my kids for the rest of their lives. Repeating hurts and patterns that I myself endured throughout my childhood.  I fear this... I fear that...

Some of my blog reading has included a serious set of "super-moms"...  Those kind of moms that are "perfect" and seemingly have no such things as a dirty toilet, heaven forbid that they should leave dishes in their sink after dinner, they never let their highlights grow out because they forgot to schedule their hair appointment, their children don't fight, they never snap at their husbands, they have memorized the Book of Proverbs and use it daily in conversation with their perfectly groomed children (see my version of the Proverbs 31 woman)...

Sigh.

I am not one of those.  I will admit it.  Yes, I missed my hair appointment 6 weeks ago and keep forgetting to call to reschedule (Just call me Mama Skunk). No, I will not allow you to see my kids bathroom, partly because its the only bathroom in the house that I chose not to be in charge of, and because my son peed on the floor, apparently shooting down a "giant flying spider" (I am waiting for him to get home from school to pick it up himself).

 I am not perfect.  And I realized sitting in that big chair, that I am NOT called to be that kind of mother to my kids.  I am called to be ME to my children.  I am not to be a parent like my sister, aunt, mother, neighbor, best friend, or fellow saint to my kids.   I am called to bring the qualities and giftings the Lord gave to ME into the lives of my kids.  And I am to raise them according to their bent, not mine or my self imposed set of fears.

Parenting is a naked, ugly, somewhat earth-shattering mirror into our souls.  There are times, I hear myself or see myself when I am dealing with my precious children, that I can see the horrible stain of the sinfulness I carry.  Stains of un-forgiveness.  Impatience.  Lack of love. Loneliness. Comparison. Shards of anger.  Pride. Fear. Shame. Anxiety.

I can't hang onto it any more.  This journey is too arduous to carry all that baggage.  I can feel its time to lay it down and move forward.  I am learning to embrace the Grace of Jesus Christ, learning to let go of my control... and learning that I am perfectly imperfect.

Today, (I am saying this aloud as I type) I chose to overcome my sinfulness as a parent.  I chose to let go of my past.  I chose to be different.  To respond differently.  To seek the fruit of the Spirit in my own life so that it will spill seed onto my family.  I will offer myself some grace.  When I fail, I will make it right and mend those fences. I won't let guilt rule me or my actions.

And I choose to believe this verse when I feel like a failure as a parent...

Is. 41: 10, 13

10. Don’t be afraid, for I am with you.
    Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you.
    I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.
13.For I hold you by your right hand—
    I, the Lord your God.
And I say to you,
    ‘Don’t be afraid. I am here to help you.

(I love that the title of Chapter 41 in the Message version is entitled "Do you feel like a lowly worm?") Man, somedays I really do...  =)

It makes me feel so much better, that even today, when I got onto my son and then felt like a Schmuck when he went off to school, that the Lord is there, holding my hand, telling me not to be afraid...  He'll be right along side me as I journey through this parenting thing...  Instructing, loving, and holding me. 

Much love to you all, 

Mrs. Learning Not to be Afraid of Fear

What is your fear in parenting?  How do you overcome it?  What verses do you cling too as you travel the road of parenting? 

_________________________________________________________________________________

Parenting Resources

http://www.empoweringparents.com/

http://imom.com/parenting/

http://www.focusonthefamily.com/parenting.aspx

http://www.handsfreemama.com/

http://www.weirdunsocializedhomeschoolers.com/2012/05/having-heart-for-your-kids.html?m=1

Step 1

We had a lady named, Bonnie Miller speak at my church on Sunday.  She wasn't the atypical speaker that I was used to listening too, but man, when I honed into what she was saying...  her words really touched my heart and I knew that this tied into what I was hoping to accomplish with this blog.  If you have 30 min, check out her teaching here.  (if its not there yet, it will be loaded later today)  Like it or not, the words that we speak aloud are sown into our spirits...  or even more ...  the spirits of others...  and the scriptures say, "that which we sow we will reap..."

I've been convicted when I stop to listen to myself speak. In the past few days I heard myself say... "It will never happen!"  "You're driving my crazy!"  When my husband told me I was beautiful, I shook my head "No" at him,  "I'll never get it done in time..." "I'm no good at this..." "What if it never happens?"  

Whoa.  Is it any surprise that I struggle with self esteem, patience, inadequacy and worry?  That's all I'm used to speaking aloud.  To myself.  About myself.  Its almost as though on autopilot I say these things aloud and sow seeds of nagging worry, despair, anxiety, impatience and low self esteem into my spirit.  And what are my words sowing into the lives of my precious children?  My wonderful husband?  

Its easy to compliment others, "You look so pretty today!"  "Thanks for your help!"  "You're important" "I really liked what you had to say..."  but WHY, oh Why, is it so hard to say those things to the very people who live in close quarters with me and share the same DNA as I???  

I've worked very hard the past few days saying things to my family like, "Wow, I really like your perseverance, but the answer is still NO!" as opposed to "Are you deaf?  I said N.O.!!!!!"  "Thank you for your help, I really appreciate it, even if that butter glass did get broken..." Instead of, "What do you think you're doing!  Look what you did!!"  "Thank you for cleaning the kitchen!  What a help you've been to me today" instead of, "Oh, you forgot to do...." "I think you're wonderful."  "I'll always love you." "I can do this!"  "Thank you God for helping me!"  

Its been hard.  My gut instinct is to vomit out my negative projectiles and shoot down those closest to me and to continue to maim my own spirit.  But, I can imagine, just as it is with anything, practice makes perfect.  If I can instinctively sow positive thoughts and promises and statements from the Word of God into my life and the lives of those around me...  Why, I think it would change my entire universe.  

So.  I'm kicking my mental butt into gear...  

If you see me muttering to myself down the aisles of Target, don't pull out a straight jacket and incarcerate me yet...  I'm just re-booting myself.  

The Real Woman's Journey Through the Valley Of Fear

I never would have made a good pastors wife. I tried for a few years, but my mouth got me in trouble.  I talked too openly or said too freely what I was thinking - politically correct or not... I once was told by a Pastor that my husband and I needed to "not be so transparent, to retain an air of "mystery" in our ministry to be successful."

Erm.  I am many things, but mysterious is not one of them.  Seriously.

At the time, so hungry for investment into my life and ministry I blindly took that comment and went forth.   What a bungling mess I made, and the end result of it was, trying blindly to hold on to an image of perfection and "mystery", I stopped talking.  I stopped being true and real.  Relatable.  Relevant. Myself.  

In the past years since then, I hunger for realness.  I am drawn to those in ministry who are real, who talk about their experiences through life via their trial and errors.  I like those who speak candidly. Those who find the humor in their life circumstances and can point to God with a smile, even in the middle of a dung pile and laugh about it. I am turned off by speakers who talk in generalities and never really say anything at all, or those who give no personal examples of triumph or failure.  I like it raw.  I like it real and I like it to be practical.  

Don't get me wrong, sometimes those conversations are the ones we shy away from.  It can hurt to be real.  Its vulnerable to be raw and open.  But when we are real and open with others about our struggles, our victory, our pain, our happiness, we can share the true meaning and message of Jesus Christ himself.  Look at the scriptures...  When Jesus walked on the earth, He was so terribly real that He threw the Pharisees into a tizzy... They didn't want Jesus to talk to their people about prayer, a Savior, how to treat their neighbors, how to avoid sin, or list the deplorable acts of sinful behavior of the people and then tell them how to be forgiven...  No, they would rather He stay "mysterious" and "unattainable" much like their version of a Savior - a royal King, sitting on a throne in a far off land, clothed in silks, jewels and finery, and surrounded by body guards... 

Now, I'm DEFINITELY not Jesus.... HA!  But I am taking a cue from Him.  I want to be real.  

I am a real woman.  I argue with my husband sometimes.  I yell at my kids occasionally. I have piles of dirty laundry that I procrastinate in doing. I feel like a failure at times. Sometimes dishes sit in my sink for a while.  Sometimes I only clean the top of the toilet seat when I'm in a hurry.  I wear a hat to cover up the fact that my hair is greasy.  I get pimples.  I cry.  I compare myself to others and struggle with inadequacy.  I desire to pray every day, but sometimes get so bogged down with life (aka laundry and toilets) that I don't have the energy. I get afraid of lots of things. I get lonely.  I really want to know the Lord better and struggle with the enormity of that thought at times. 

Enter "The Real Woman's Guide Through the Valley of Fear" aka my self titled blogging about fear.  

Not gonna lie.  I'm scared to even begin blogging about fear.  Who am I to do this?  What if I mess it up?  What if I take something out of context?  Mrs. __________ could do it a lot better than I.  What if i give up in the middle and you all think I am a loser?  What if? What if?  

 But we should want to openly journey through fear together and hope that somewhere along the way, we stop being afraid of fear.  

Get a grip

Opening scene:  a dark shadow flits across the screen.  Camera pans to a frightened face, screaming is induced.  A ghastly figure dominates the room.  Evil is presented and seemingly conquers its victims. a little boy whispers, "I see dead people..." Blood.  Darkness.

Scary movies.  I hate them.  Actually, I hate being scared, period.

Once, as a teenager, my date and I went to a haunted house.  Oh sure, I was shaking inside, balking at the thought of going  into the darkness and seeing lord knows what...  But, the tickets were payed for, I was dressed to impress, I could do this.

No.

 I made it about 10 steps inside before someone jumped out wearing a mask and wielding some sort of sharp dungeon like instrument and it was over. Not caring about the crowd around me or the unsightly figure in front of me, I literally jumped on my dates back (poor boy), piggy back style, buried my face in his back and wept.  He staggered and buckled under my weight, but I was not letting go.  I was afraid. We exited the building as soon as he could find a way out, my make up running, his back wet with tears and saliva.  Actually, now that I think about it...  He never called me again.

(Sorry dude.  Obviously it wasn't meant to be)

Since then, in light of the over abundance of scary movies on the market (remember when they only came out around Halloween??) I've since learned to limit my fear in a Hollywood sense.  I don't allow myself to watch scary movies, read thriller books, or even watch things that stress me out (i.e. CSI, SVU etc).  There is no desire in me to be looking in dark corners, or hearing creaking noises under my bed in the night... I already have an over active imagination as is... read here for more details.

 Having said that, if I've conquered the Hollywood fear, why is it that I am still afraid?  One of my continual struggles is fear. Not fear of dead people, ghosts or noises (though if my husband goes out of town I may have every light in the house on), but regular ole fear.  Fear of rejection.  Fear of failure.  Fear of Spiders.  Fear of lack.  Fear of not being a good mom.  Fear of something happening to my kids. Fear of singing. Fear of Scorpions.  Fear of forgetting to put my pants on before I go to church (oh wait... that's a nightmare)

 Fear...  fear... fear...

It comes out in mental moments more than it does in the movies.  There's no screaming in the background of my mind, random blood stained person in my shower or a man wearing a Jason mask.

No, its just that nagging, "what if" that invokes more fear than the above mentioned things.

(If there was someone in my shower, why, I'd like to think I'd down her with a bottle of rave hairspray, my curling iron and a loofah).  

Ahem.

I read recently that "Babies are naturally born with two fears. A fear of falling and a fear of loud noises. All other fears are learned by association and identification".  

Say what??

Yup.  All those things I fear now on a daily basis, somewhere along the line, I was taught to fear them or I became a product of my environment. 

I'm done.  I really believe that we are being called to identify our fears and move on.  To outgrow some of these mental battles that we struggle with.  I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of living bound up by thoughts of "What if"  "No... don't" "What if" "what if" "what if".  

I had an idea the other night, (it could have been bad sushi, but... I'll press on and see what happens) to take a Bible verse on fear and write about it every day.  To really get God's word about fear into my psyche and see some changes made by the power of God.  There are, apparently, over 500 references to "Fear Not" and "Fear" in the Bible.  That's over one verse for every day of the year... 

So. I'm going there.  Want to come with me?  I've got to GET A GRIP!  










   

The BEST soup ever. Seriously

My sweet little girl is sick with the flu...  a high fever, chills and the aches. 

As a "natural" girl (aka Hippie) I am giving her lemon/ginger/garlic tea, spraying her pulse points with fever spray, and giving her lots of TLC. 

As I am sure you do, any time my kids are sick, I pull out the arsenal of soups and other sick foods.  So tonight, I thought I would share with you our family's favorite chicken soup.... 

We learned about this recipe from my sisters church in Amarillo Texas, Trinity Fellowship. Along with a great resource of sermons, they put out a magazine called "Connect".  Included in this edition was a recipe for "Chicken Tortilla Soup".  Oh my word.  It's so yummy....

Ingredients:

2 TBS Olive Oil
3 Pre roasted chicken breasts (Chopped) ***  See note on how I do my chicken...
Salt & Pepper
1 TBS ground coriander
1 Lg onion (quartered & thinly sliced)
1 Lg red bell pepper (quartered & thinly sliced)
1 jalapeno (seeded & thinly sliced)
1 28 oz can fire roasted diced tomatoes (Be sure to get fire roasted - they add SO much flavor)
1 QT low sodium chicken broth
1 Bag white corn tortilla chips
1 cup shredded pepper jack cheese
Optional toppers
1 avocado (diced)
1 lime (juiced)
4 scallions (chopped)
handful of fresh cilantro leaves (coarsely chopped)

Heat a large stock pot with olive oil over med-high heat. Add onions, bell pepper, and jalapenos; season with salt and pepper to taste. Cook 5-7 minutes, stirring frequently.  Add chicken and coriander. Add tomatoes and chicken stock; heat through (I let mine simmer on low for about 25 min).  While soup is cooling, toss the avocado with lime juice. Lightly crush some tortilla chips and divide among 4 bowls.  You need a couple handfuls per bowl. Top the chips with a little cheese. Top the chips with ladles of soup. Garnish soup with cheese, avocado, scallions and cilantro.  Add an extra squeeze of lime juice or a dollop of sour cream if desired.

YUMMOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!


And here is the recipe for the roasted chicken.  It is so easy and flavorful that I normally make extra of this chicken and store in fridge to be used in an assortment of meals.

Lemon Marinade Roast Chicken

1/2 cup fresh squeezed lemon juice
2 Tbs dijon Mustard
1 cup olive oil
4 chicken breasts

whisk together lemon, mustard, oil, salt and pepper.  Place the chicken breasts in a shallow paking dish in a single layer.  pour 3/4 of the marinade over chicken (reserve other portion for storage later) If you have time, allow chicken to marinate for 1-2 hours (I never have time... so I skip this step).  Pre-heat oven to 375. Roast chicken for 30-40 minutes or until done. 

Let me know if you try it! 

xoxo
Janelle

Dreams, life and other musings

So, I swear my blog does a time warp. 

I sign on, write a post and about 30 years later I sign on and write again. 

Yes, hello, I am now living in a retirement community in Arizona, with blue tinted hair, wearing a visor, velour running suit and driving a golf cart as my main transportation to my bridge and rummy games. 

Nah...  Life just happens sometimes and blogging doesn't. 

For this reason, I am forcing myself to sit down and write before another 30 years passes and my velour running suit has been traded for an open backed hospital gown, a motorized wheelchair, and one of those emergency push button necklaces a'la "I've fallen and I can't get up" style...

I digress.

Where was I?  Ah, yes, I was forcing myself to sit down and write.  Right? (Write?)

Write.

It's been an amazing few months.  So many wonderful changes happening in our life. 

Oh.  Wait.  I think I now know why I think of blogging as a daunting task.  If you only write once every 30 years then you have to write an auto-biography. It hurts my brain to find the content to fill 3,003,597 pages to catch everyone up on the current time in my life. 

Consider this the Readers Digest Version of the past 30 years.  (Do you remember your mom reading those?  If I confess to reading them now, does that mean I am like my mother? Lawl...  Help us)

Write. Right. 

Back to the current view of our life. 

Are there things in your life that you've always wanted to pursue?  Dreams that you've had hidden in your heart since you were a wee thing?  Talents that have been gifted to you that you'd like to explore? Have you pursued, dreamt and explored all the options in your life?

Have you?

We took the plunge a year ago and stepped out of our comfort zone - we stopped working for a church.

In the 10 years we've been married, we have always worked for a church/church school, etc in some capacity.  Working for a church was wrapped up in our identity and in our feeble minds tied us to our salvation. After coming to terms with the fact that we may have been pursuing something that wasn't quite our niche, we stepped down from our positions and began living life - just plain old ordinary non ministerial life.

We were lost for a while, high in faith, but lost in action.  What did we do?  How did we serve God in a non "ministry" capacity now? Who were we outside of the church or a church position?  What did God have for us now?

My husband took a job working a field he has always loved with hopes that he would soon advance, and I adjusted to life being plain old me - no titles (not that I ever really had one anyways).  We began searching our hearts and opening areas of thought that we had shut closed or just plain forgotten about.

We adjusted to life not feeling obligated to go to this event, or stay and volunteer at such and such, and, sometimes, we slept in and watched service online, or when our kids were sick didn't make them go and sleep on a back pew while we took care of business.

As the time went by, my husband has found his niche and talent in his job.  He is passionately pursuing and walking through doors that open for him in his line of work.  He is happy.  He is moving forward. He is growing.

and...

I wasn't.

After much despair of not knowing what God wanted from me, I began a season of my life where I felt idle. Like I needed to be doing something. SOMETHING!  But what? Where? Who?  When? I raged at God.  I would fold clothes, feeling completely inadequate and small, and yell at Him through my ceiling. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME???" I pleaded with Him in the dark of night, while my husband slept soundly, fulfilled from the path he knew God placed him on. Tears would drip onto my pillow as I mouthed into the darkness, "Who am I? Who am I?" I'd listen to and support my man as he told me excitedly about his day. I would watch my husband go happily to work, and when I shut the front door, would fight resentment that I was left alone and still didn't know who I was outside of the four walls of my domestic domain.

Life finally caught me.  It came on me in the form of my 30th birthday. I woke up one morning feeling like I couldn't breath... Suffocating.  Gasping. Reaching.  Searching.

I gave up.

I asked for help.

I met with a wonderful mentor in my life, talked with a dear friend, and my husband and I met with our Pastor.  I left all the facades of perfection in the car, and for small moments, opened my weak and broken heart and let them see me. A bag of bones, a mind of insecurity and a life of fear.

It saved my life.

Actually, it saved my sanity.

Just being honest about where I was poked a hole in the dark night that threatened to overtake me.  I kept walking towards that pinprick of light and determined to keep jabbing and smashing at the darkness till the light would illuminate more and more of my life. God started to work on me. I stopped trying to be hyper spiritual about things.  I began to accept things as they were, not offering or trying to dive into any lengthy explanation of mumbo jumbo. Life just was.  And it was what I was making it. Or, rather, what I was NOT making it.

One day, the beginning of this year, God moved.  Unexpectedly and suddenly.  And here I stand today. In a better place mentally, spiritually, and emotionally than I have been in a long time.  I'm real. Flesh and bone, smiles and frowns, love and hurts, and it feels good.  I feel present.  I'm aware of my surroundings and I like it.  And, best of all,  I can see a path that God is guiding my feet to, opening doors that He has set in motion for me.

I don't know what tomorrow holds, but I know God has placed in each of us dreams, desires and passions that only we can fulfill.  We are each called to use our talents to change our spherical world. Are you using yours?

 If I, of all people, am given an opportunity to pursue something I love, than nothing should stop you from pursuing your place as well.  If I can do it - you can.

What's holding you back? 

Month of Love

Its February...  The Month of Love... Well, every month should be one filled with love. But for some reason, there is an emphasis on the month of February... Maybe to give us something to look forward to after Christmas and the slew of holiday parties.

This February, my husband and I decided to show extra demonstrative love to our kids.  Our thought process was this: Our 9 year old son needs to learn how to "romance" and our 8 year old daughter needs to learn what "romance" looks like.

My husband has always struggled in the romantic arena, and actually, when we got married, I was told not to expect roses on Valentines Day. I've had to push hard and drop hints even harder, but the Hubs is so much better and has surprised me many times.

So, needless to say, this month of love will benefit ALL of us.

Here are some of our ideas (and some that we've picked up through others doing a similar thing with their children).

We didn't want to spend a ton of money, but wanted to really invest and put some "love" memories in their love banks.  In every note that we write our children, we tried to make each note personal and uplifting, offering words that would bless our children, not only for the moment, but for a lifetime to come.

1. Grab a book of special interest to your child/spouse and write a personal inscription on the front page.
2. Give a box of conversation hearts with the note, "I love our heart to heart conversations, they mean the world to me..."
3.Give a chocolate heart with a note, "Your smile melts my heart" or "You've captured my heart".
4.Give a packet of trail mix/nuts with a note that says "Your parents are NUTS about you"
5. Blow up a packet of balloons with a smidge of confetti and personal note inside.  Have your child stand holding a push pin and pop each "love bomb" as you gently toss them their way.  (Our kids loved this so much, they want to do it every day.  They loved being showered with confetti and scrambling to read their special note out loud.) If you don't mind the mess, leave the confetti on the floor in their rooms for a day or two.  Every time they walk in and see the confetti, they will have a smile on their face.
6. Tape a quarter to a note that says: "My life is richer because you're in it..."
7. Give gift vouchers that are itemized, we used the 5 love languages book to inspire ours. For example:  Redeem your gift of Quality Time by doing _________ together. (Let your child write in the entry)
8. Give your child a written clue that will lead her/him on a scavenger hunt to find a small box filled with things you love about them. We called it our "Treasure Hunt - because you're the greatest treasure we've been given".
9. Give a "Get out of Chores FREE" card.  This card may be redeemed once in the month of February. (use the extra time to spend doing something your child likes to do...)
10. Put a packet of "Pop rocks" in their lunch box (gasp! I know! Sugar!!! In their lunch?? They loved it!) with a note taped to it saying, "You're a ROCK star just because you're YOU!"
 11. Write a special note on the bathroom mirror in lipstick or dry erase marker for them to see when they get up.
12. Purchase a little kid friendly seed kit (they normally have these pre-assembled at your local home depot) with a note that says, "My love for you grows and grows..."

I'm still coming up with more ideas, if you have any, please feel free to share in the comments section! I'd love to add them. =)

What's been amazing is, we are on day 7 and I've been so surprised at the love my kids have freely offered back.  I've had notes slipped into my purse from my son, left on my pillow from my daughter, and love notes written on a surprise cup of Starbucks from my husband.  Our family is definitely feeling the love... Hope yours does too.

Happy LOVE month!

*tap tap* Is this thing on?

So, I haven't written a blog in like, I don't know, half a century and now I am about to write a whiny one.

Great. 

I'm sure you're so pleased.

Well.. 

Get over it.  =) 

This can't possibly be worse than reading about the political spectrum, the newest tax hike, football player foul up or the newest antics of those Kardashian airheads...  Well... If it is, then I apologize in advance and I'm worse off than I thought.

Today was a hard day.  Well, it's been a hard few weeks.  But, that's not what I'm writing about.

Wait, what am I writing about?  Oh yeah, I'm whining.  Let me get back to it then.

My top 'whines' are:

1. Change.  It's HARD.  Especially for me, a control freak, who likes to play God and position everything in my life just as I like it.  It's so easy for me to have faith when I can see where I am headed or have some grand scheme in mind as I play the chess pieces of my life.  Can I get a "Leave it to Beaver" Mrs. Cleaver reprieve??  No?  OK... Sigh.  FINE! We have a lot of changes coming to the surface in our life right now.  And, don't get me wrong, I can SEE with my control-freaky eyes that these changes are going to be GOOD and that they come from God.  But, what I'm finding is that there are good days where my faith is buoyant and I can rise above the swells of fear and unbelief and then, like today, sometimes there's a need to scrape myself off the floor of despair (with a pampered chef spatula) and pour myself back into some form of faith.  At times that faith is as small as this ( . ) but apparently that's all we need.  I'm believing God.  He is who He says He is.  (My daily mantra)

2. Parenting.  THE HARDEST JOB EVER!  We are in a new phase of parenting.  I don't know what to do with myself.  I'm not ready for this.  Can I lock myself in a closet till they are 45?  No...  right.  That would be weird and totally not ok for me to do... right?  Right.  Ok, moving on.  I feel totally unprepared and a little isolated in this stage of the game.  I NEED a new plan.  The plan that worked when my kids were 0-5 years old is not working anymore.  I find that the older my kids are getting, the more worried I am about them, the more prayers I throw up to ceiling about them, my heart breaks more frequently over them, and I find myself willing the world to slow down and stop spinning so fast so I can enjoy this time and catch a breath with them.  And this is where I'm slowly losing sanity.  I'm thinking of connecting a group of ladies with kids in the same age ranges as my own (6 - 10) and starting an online "support" group.  We could share tactics, prayers, worries, key moments, fresh tools and our own battle worn experience.  Its essential that we share and help each other.  And BOY could I use some fresh perspective right now with my kids.  Thoughts? 

(I'm noticing a pattern with the CAPS key in this post...)

3. Bullies.  This should go under 'whine' #2 but I feel it deserves its own number.  I ABHOR bullies.  Kids/teens/adults that feel like they have the right to pick on someone about the way they look, talk, walk, eat, laugh, or do anything else should be taken out and spanked.  I don't care if you're 92 years old.  If you have such a warped spirit towards others you need a paddle taken to your behind.  T came home today with a note from his teacher that he had gotten a talking to in class about speaking out of turn and acting like a clown.  When I asked him about it, this little tiny voice came out of his normally bold mouth and said, "I was trying to make them laugh and forget about teasing me..."  With a little further prompting, it was discovered that three kids in his class have been whispering about him and teasing him openly in front of his class mates.  About his clothes (which I buy, so I know they are hip), the way he walks (?), and his big eyes (My son is THE handsomest boy in his class.  Really.  I would say so even if I WASN'T his mom.) I wanted to go Kung-Fu panda on these kids and to swoop in and wash their mouths out with soap. I refrained.  Instead, I watched my little boy cry while he told me about it and felt my heart get ripped out and stomped on by some degenerate little 4th grade punks in the second row of room #71 who probably watch MTV and kick puppies for fun. We prayed about it and I gave a sermon on the mount about lies from satan, garbage, knowing who we are, confidence, num-chucks and pepper spray (well, something like that) and T walked away feeling a little better.  I, on the other hand, immediately went and vigorously vacuumed the living room to release some steam.  It didn't work that well (although I was able to get the glitter out of that one spot on the carpet.)  This is going to require some extra fervent prayers and I will definitely have to work on teaching my son how to 'pray for his enemies'.  I'll have to practice for a little while first.   *Ahem

#4. Christmas.  I LOVE Christmas.  I do.  Truly.  I can't wait till July when I have permission from my husband to listen to Christmas music for one day.  Or walk through Hobby Lobby's big "Christmas in July" sale and buy stuff for the upcoming season.  I couldn't wait for Christmas to get here.  I lobbied and picketed for the right to put my Christmas tree up in the middle of November (I lost that battle. Mr. Scrooge promptly saw to that) I lit my Balsam Tree Candle in October and put a bunch of candles around one of my little potted plants to pretend it was a real Christmas tree (ok, I didn't, but I did THINK about doing it).  So, will someone please tell me WHY now that Christmas is almost here and all my festive items are out, the house is bedecked, the crooners are singing away about "Silent Nights' and 'Winter Wonderlands' and I don't feel anything??  Not even a spark of Christmas spirit.  None.  NADA.  Zilch.  I really didn't want to put that out there, I'm afraid I am going to get a lump of coal in my stocking (Or reindeer poop on my pillow).  What in the world is the matter with me? I'm praying and meditating on the Advent and birth of Christ (so as not to get lost in commercialism and materialism) and I can't muster it up.  All those great Christmas crafts I saved in my 'inspiration' folder are just sitting there.  I feel like I'm messing Christmas up for my kids.  I am Ebenezer Scrooges Great Grandmother.  (BTW Don't let your kid watch the new Christmas Carol.  It scared ME so bad I almost peed).  What do you do to get in the Christmas spirit?

#5.  Super Moms.  Oh, you know who I am talking about.  THOSE moms who manage to find time to press their designer duds, manicure their hang-nail free fingertips, take their kids to ballet, football, art-classes, band class, soccer practice, violin practice, piano practice, pottery class, kazoo class, weaving class, finger painting class...  AND still find time to shave their legs.  I don't get it.  I got so busy two weeks ago that laundry piled up and I didn't even notice until my little boy said, "Mom, I really don't have any clean underwear."  You KNOW that's a bad sign coming from a little boy who will wear them inside out to get more wear out of them.  I even forgot to shave my legs until I noticed my jeans were all tented up from the hair poking up and out in the inside leg.  Goodness.  It's a wonder my husband finds me the least bit attractive.  I follow a few blogs (now, don't go looking through them to find out who I am talking about) where these ladies just post the most delightful things, the cleanest rooms, the most sparkling floors, and their latest 15 hour intricate paint by numbers project.  I look at their life and instantly compare mine to theirs and that makes me MAD. I want to throw my computer onto my floor and stomp on it (until I realize that doing so would mean I would have MORE mopping to do.)   I don't want to read a blog about how perfect your life is.  I want to hear the blood and guts and how you're going to lose your mind if one more rice crispie ends up smashed in your sheets or how you got bearded dragon poop stains out of your sons shirt (True story - try dawn dish soap with a little bit of bleach).  I don't want to read about Barbie and Ken in the Mattel mansion.  It's at the point where only truth will do for me.  Fake people creep me out. 

Wheww...  Well, since there were no pictures in this post I'm not even sure if you made it this far.  But, it felt good to cry, laugh, joke and purge.  I need to be more honest in my life and situations.

So if you made it to this line.  Thanks for reading.  I promise I won't wait so long next time and explode all over your google reader.

Mastering Time

Have you ever struggled with one thing?  Every day? Your whole life? 

I struggle with time. 

Time has mastered me.  I, however, have not mastered time. 

This has been a constant source of disgruntlement for me.  And, since I married the man who is late if he's on time... well...  you get the picture. 

It's a character flaw.  My dear sweet hubby pointed this out to me.  Wow.  I'm already known for being hard on myself, and having a "flaw" pointed out by the man who knows and loves me most...  Well, it hurt.  Like spikes through the heart, poking out your designer t-shirt, hurt.  What miffed me more was, it was true. Its been chafing at me since.

Growing up, my parents were very lax with disciplines, boundaries, expectations and most everything else.  They vacillated between being too lax or too stringent.  Once I remember getting "grounded till Jesus comes" and my prior non existent curfew was set for 7:30 pm (on a Friday no less). I was 16 - this was excruciating.  There weren't very many consistent rules in my home.  As I got older, I vowed that I wouldn't make the "mistakes" that my parents did, or parent in the same way.  I was determined that I wouldn't be a product of my environment.

I'm a grown up now - I must take responsibility for my actions.

Fast forward to today and I am a parent myself.  A young parent no less.  I have been striving to raise my kids in a climate that would be opposite of what I was raised in.  In some areas I've excelled and others... well, lets just say I'm breaking habits.  And God is bringing a lot of residue to the surface that needs to be dealt with.  One of these areas is my lack of discipline with time management. 

I'm smart enough to know being late for work is a no-no.  And my kids weren't late to school one time last year (no kidding!).  So, I got those down...  But... anything else?  I can be counted on to be exactly 5-7 minutes late.  Fashionable? Maybe.  Rude? YES!  And the worst part - I KNOW it.  Ugh.

Example: Sunday mornings I will go through the list of what I need to do to get ready as I lay there hitting my snooze.  As I pound the snooze every 10 minutes, I cross something off that list.  5:55 am - Well, I won't curl my hair today.  6:05 am - Ok, I'll wear the shirt that doesn't need to be ironed. 6:15 am - I'll just throw my hair back in a pony tail.  6:25 am - CRAP!   Rush Rush Rush - fly out the door to my family waiting in the car as they watch me hobble with one shoe on, carrying the other shoe in my hand that is clasping a bracelet on my wrist, and buttoning my shirt, all at the same time. It's a bad example.

When I get in the car, 6.45 minutes behind schedule, I enter into the realm of silence.  Nate gives me one disparaging look that says, "You're killing me Smalls. Really."

Want to hear a funny story?  Well, it's funny now.  At the moment it was anything but.

Enter the fairly newly married couple with a newborn baby boy. 

One Sunday morning, as the Wife is racing around to get ready, (after hitting said snooze button multiple times) the Husband decides that he is tired of waiting, and doesn't want to be as late as the Wife is going to make him.  So he hollers up the stairs.  "I'm leaving... see you there!"  The Wife, in her panic to hurry, is in her walk in closet when the Husband says this, and doesn't hear him leave.  True to form, about 7 minutes later, the Wife appears, frantic and harried, but clothed and semi decent, to discover an empty house.  The Wife immediately starts muttering under her breath and stomping around.  Tucking the baby boy into his car seat and nestling his car seat in the back seat of the Expedition, the Wife slams the door, still muttering. 

Now, the fairly newly married couple lived quite a ways from their church, and had to travel a relatively long distance via the highway.  As the Wife guns the gas and merges onto the highway, she notices that in her haste to leave, she left her cell phone at home.  Nice.  The ride is uneventful for a few miles.  That is, until the car started to shudder and quake.  The Wife looks down at her gas gauge as the car gives one final quiver and shuts off.  Out of gas.  On the Highway. Late for Church.  This is the exact moment that precious baby boy wakes up and begins to wail.  At this point, the Wife is snarling mutiny at the Husband (even though she knows she is the one who was late). 

The Wife sits on the side of the highway as cars go zipping down the lanes for about 30 minutes, when she sees flashing lights behind her.  The Wife promptly bursts into tears, rolls down her window and pours her tardy story out to the officer who comes to her rescue.  AAA is called and 45 minutes from start to finish, the Wife gets back on the road and continues her trek. 

While this is going on, unbeknownst to the Husband, he is sitting on the platform, scanning the congregation for the Wife.  He begins to get nervous and slightly worried.  The double doors in the back of the sanctuary burst wide open.  The Wife, hauling a carseat on her hip, diaper bag on her shoulder, hair askew, and eyes swollen, walks in extreme vexation to a seat nearest the back.  The Husband, who knows by now, something bad happened when he left the Wife, feels a storm cloud coming on.  He fervently starts praying...

HA!  Did I learn my lesson?  No... unfortunately, I have made my family late many times since that day.  You'd think I'd get it together.  I'm smart, creative, funny (have I mentioned funny?), polite (mostly) and know better. 

One of my desires is to wake up early.  Church days and non church days.  I need that time alone, house quiet, Word in hand, mind clear, before the bedlam of the day begins.  You know that scripture "The Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."? 

I am a weaksauce snooze button hitting lady. 

It's time for change. 

So, let this stand as my accountability post. 

I, Janelle Hyatt, a chronically late, hurried, rushed, and stressed mother of two, wife to a prompt man, hereby do solemnly declare that I am going to manage my time better.  I will do my best to get my booty out of bed when the alarm goes off WITHOUT a snooze respite.  I will be a master of my time.  I choose this day to respect the time of those around me.  I will set an example to my children that they can be proud to follow. I will conquer this.

I'm going to try anyways... 

Who's with me?

Can you hear that?...

Shhh....

Do you hear that? 

The sound of the washer running, the dishwasher rinsing, the floors sparkling and the clean clothes happily folded and put away for the day?? 

It's the sound of the first day of school. 

This summer was a LONG one and a HOT one.  Long and hot days = extreme boredom = restlessness = bickering kids = time out = stressed mom = extra guilt imposed on self by said stressed mom = loong day(s). 

This was, looking back, the most uneventful and somewhat disappointing summer we've had so far.  I'm glad its over, and glad to look forward to cooler days and a schedule.

Wow, I sound like a pessimist.  I'm not. Well, not always anyways.

The plans we had for the summer all went down the toilet after receiving Madeleine's hospital bill (You may remember this post about Maddie getting stung by a scorpion).  We received the bill a few weeks later, and after we had picked up our eye balls from the floor and popped them back in, we had to cancel all plans made for the summer. Ugh.  Frustrating.

So, we stayed home, swam a lot, sweated a lot and had many introspective discoveries this summer.

Some things we discovered were

-kids can start picking on one another as soon as they get out of bed
-Jalepenos are a really good tactic for talking back/sassing/tattling/mean words.  Don't worry, I just rubbed a little piece on a tongue and gave a sermonette about the tongue being the most powerful member of our body. It worked for a few days. If needed, you can just rub and repeat.
-Swimming is a great activity and it's FREE
-Money is stressful. period. enough said.
-There is no possible way for a house to stay clean during summer vacation. IMPOSSIBLE.
-If your children feed a stray cat to get the reward from the neighborhood signs, and the owner ends up being a "no-show" doesn't mean that you get a free cat.  You get a free pest, complete with cat hair. Though it is nice to have a little purring machine sit on your feet while you blog.
-Don't mention the "pound" "Humane Society" in front of your kids regarding the afore mentioned feline. 
-Mint grows like crazy and chokes out all the other herbs you may have planted around it. But is great in lemonade and served with homemade peach sorbet.
-In AZ there is indeed such a thing as butt body water.  I've had sweat in places I never knew about.
-Eating Popsicle's in front of an air conditioner vent and giggling with your kids is timeless entertainment.
-Sometimes God tests you in ways that seem so irritating, but are SO necessary.
-Guilt is never the way to change yourself.
-You can be too hard on yourself (Thanks for the straight words Andrea) Show yourself some grace, you're only human after all.
-Dr. Neil Anderson's book "Freedom from Fear" is a must read.
-When your kids love learning it changes every stigma about school.
-Kids are the best spiritual mirror a parent can have - Good Lord, I have been convicted this summer.
-Mac N Cheese is NOT healthy in any way shape or form... 
-It's lovely when family comes to visit and it's lovely when they leave.
-God is much bigger than a church and can blow your mind in your own living room
-I may have snuck a Starbucks coffee 6x once or twice this summer
-Budgets stink, but are totally necessary (see above)
-Music soothes the savage beast
-My kids are now having a love affair with 'The Golden Oldies" and are known to walk around singing "If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life, never make a pretty woman your wife..." and "Yakkity yak - Don't talk back!".
-The library reading program can save your summer.
-Discovering how to be content in what ever state you may be in is a tough test, and once I accomplish that I'll let you know.  In the meantime, I will pray for grace and my 'tude every day. 

and... 

The list could go on... and on... and on...

So, I'll stop. 

Oh, one thing I did learn this summer was how to give myself a pedicure (budget again) and do a home facial.

Here was my favorite facial I found over the summer.  My face felt firm and glowed like a light bulb afterwards. Jane Austen would liken it to "incandescence" but I liken it to a light bulb.  Humph.  =)

Asprin Facial

4-6 uncoated asprin tablets
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp honey

(Still taking photos on my iphone - whose lens is smudged - obviously!) WHOOPS!

Place your asprin tablets in a smidge of water - just enough to dissolve them completely but not cover them.

Stir in baking soda and dash of honey. Stir up and let get all foamy. Rub gently onto face (avoid nostrils and eyes) and allow to "set" for 10-15 minutes.  Rinse thoroughly. Voila!  A shiney, clean, soft and firm face. 

Let me know if you try it!

Happy end of summer all!

Remembering

My mom passed away 6 years ago.  It's been a long time, but yet, it feels like yesterday. 

Sometimes, I catch myself thinking, "I need to call Mom and ask her..."  or "Mom will think this is..." or "I miss..." and then I remember - She's gone. 

Tomorrow marks the day that my life changed forever and the relationship that was budding and growing came to a halt.  I can't help but feel regret at losing her at such a young age, but I also understand that she is in a better place. 

Recently, I also see evidence of my mom in my life and in my daughter, who never even knew her Grammy.

For lack of better words right now, I'm going to do a re-post that I wrote about my mom in February.
____________________________________________________________________________

Our Little Angel

Out of the blue today, while M was sitting at our kitchen table, surrounded by crayons and craft paper, enjoying her snack, she piped up in her little voice, "I think I've seen your Mom and Dad before Mommy..."


Now, understand, we see my Dad, "Poppa" every year or two. We last saw him when we lived in Stockton. So May of 2008 - Madeleine would have been 5 years old. I was suprised when Madeleine seemed to remember him, and asked when we were going to see "Poppa" again. (Hopefully soon!)

And then she said, "Well, I've seen your Mommy too"...

My Mom died of stomach cancer when I was 5 months pregnant with M.

I softly and gently explained that wasn't possible because Grammy went to heaven when M was in my tummy.

M tilted her head to the side, and paused in contemplation for a moment, and then stated, "No Mom! I've seen her. Sometimes, when I'm sleeping she stops by to tell me "Hello".

...

I'll never forget it - The morning my Mom passed away, she made a point to call each of her kids.

I remember my phone ringing at 6am and seeing on my caller ID that it was my sisters number (my mom chose to stay at my sisters home with the help of Hospice rather than a hospital) and all of a sudden I could hear my heartbeat - a slow, irregular, dreadful pumping with a roaring thundering in my ears.

I answered with a hasty "Hello?"

It was my mom, feeble voiced but on a mission.

I had to strain to hear her words - she seemed hard pressed to finish some sentences, so some of those words that were in her heart never made it to my ears...

But I knew. I knew what she was saying.

She was whispering her goodbyes.

I wish I could recall with clarity everything that was said on that brief phone call. I wish I would have had the foresight to grab a pad of paper and scribble everything down. But I didn't...

I wouldn't understand the magnitude that her passing would have on my life until months, even years later.

This was my first time losing someone I loved.

I listened, crouching on the floor by the corner of my bed, hand pressed to my mouth, trying to contain my emotions.

I don't think I said much.

The beginnings of our conversation are blurred forever, try as I might, I can't recall them,

But this much I remember, My mom, the woman that I loved more than any one person in my life,the one who gave me life, who taught me how to walk and talk, and who prayed incessently over me, the woman, who as a teenager, I battled against, cared for, rolled my eyes at, and silently cursed sometimes

apologized to me....

She said, "I'm sorry if I ever let you down. I'm sorry if I wasn't a good mom to you at times... I love you Janelle and I am so glad you are my daughter and that I got to be your Mom. I love you."

I was horrified! The last conversation with my mom and I didn't expect an apology. I didn't need one.

Hurriedly, I pushed aside her words "No Mom, no apologies. I love you and you were a great mother to me. I love you so much."

Silence on the other end.

I felt sick...

"Mom? Are you still there?"

"Kiss my new granddaughter for me. I wish I could see her..."

-Click-

That was it. The last conversation I would ever have with the single most important woman in my life. I tried to hit redial but the line was busy.

She was calling my brothers...

I tried the number again, desperate this time. I had so much more to say to her.

Busy... Beep beep beep...

I laid on the floor, and cried.

Beep, beep, beep...

No answer.

I called my husband who had worked the night shift that particular day. He was due home in a few hours.

"I think I just had my last conversation with my mom.. Today is the day - please come home."

-Click-

I don't remember how long I laid on the floor before I heard T stirring. I heard him in his crib, laughing and babbling, banging something against the railings (trying to get my attention no doubt), and I let him stay there.

I laid with my face buried in the carpet, weeping.

Grieving for moments remembered and moments to come that would now be short one special lady.

Finally, I knew T was getting fussy, I went in and opened the door to the nursery. His little blonde face peering through the rails at me, dimpled mouth all wreathed in smiles "Mamma-mama!"

I picked him up, made a bottle and rocked him for a while, thinking of my mom, with tears streaming down my face, his chubby hand pressed in the crook of my neck.

She passed away a few hours later.

My sister, Kim, was there with her when she passed. Reading her Psalms and singing to her. I am so thankful that Kim was there with my mom when she made the transition into the eternal.

We found out a month after my mother passed that we were expecting a baby girl.

So for M to tell me that Grammy stops in to tell her "Hello" every once in a while...

Well...

I believe in God. I believe in angels and I believe in heaven.

Do you?

T and Grammy 3 days before she passed.

Ode to Proverbs 31

The past few days have worn me out... like "face first in the carpet, X's on my eyes, tongue lolling to the side, salivia on my chin" worn out.

I've been really feeling like I need to be more of a Proverbs 31 mom/wife. So, in my morning devotions last week I committed to really studying that particular passage of study and try to live it out the best I could.

It's been a hurculean task...

So here is my own personal ode to the Proverbs 31 woman... please enjoy.

'Hymn to a Good Wife' Proverbs 31:10-31

A good woman is hard to find, and worth far more than diamonds. Her husband trusts her without reserve, and never has reason to regret it.  ---My husband gave me the grocery budget money in cash this pay period. I lost $40 of it (I'm praying that its in the pocket of my jeans that are currently in the washer...). I also spent some of the grocery budget on new mascara, candles and a venti Starbucks. Had to ask my husband to 'spot' me $30. He wasn't too happy about that...

Never spiteful, she treats him generously all her life long. ---When we had our last argument discussion I may have contemplated using his toothbrush to clean the toilet. But, taking a cue from the verse, generously, I refrained.

She shops around for the best yarns and cottons, and enjoys knitting and sewing. ---I start my sewing classes in May and this is the picture I am taking to my teacher. Have I mentioned how twitterpated I am to learn how to sew?

She's like a trading ship that sails to faraway places and brings back exotic surprises. ---I have yet to attempt this one... I can barely go to Target unscathed. Does drinking SB Sumatra coffee count as exotic? Ohh, I know! Those candles I bought were a surprise (Right honey?)... though not exactly an exotic one.

She's up before dawn, preparing breakfast for her family and organizing her day. ---I managed to wake up 5 minutes before the kids the other day. Does that matter? Today, our kids tiptoed in at the crack of dawn and proceeded to have a full fledged pillow fight with their unsuspecting victims. Mom and Dad were rudely jolted out of their slumber with repeated blows to the head. Also, I did write a "To-Do" list for the week. But.... I can't find it. When I do, I am sure that I will be VERY organized and my house will be in tip-top shape.

She looks over a field and buys it, then, with money she's put aside, plants a garden. ---Ok, Well I wish I HAD enough money to put aside. (Don't tell Dave Ramsey that though...) Last Saturday, the kids and I set up everything outside and planted flowers and vegatable seeds for several hours. This reverie came to a screeching halt when my kids started throwing clods of dirt at one another and I got hit in the face. And, if you MUST know, Dr. Kevorkian gave me free reign over plants. Which means everything green I touch instantly turns a mottled shade of brown.  However, I braved the death curse and planted a herb garden (I beg the basil every morning not to die). I'll let you know how the plants fare...

First thing in the morning, she dresses for work, rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started. ---All my clothes are in the wash. So, this morning I dressed in yesterday's tshirt and a pair of too-tight sweatpants. I might actually still be wearing this ensemble...  Don't hate - I'm saving gallons of water by wearing clothes from yesterday... How GREEN of me!  (That's my excuse, hope I don't wear it out...)

She senses the worth of her work, is in no hurry to call it quits for the day. ---I'm determined to make every day count. It's unto me to show my children Jesus everyday and to put forth the effort of raising great kids. This is exhausting emotionally and physically. When the sun sets and the children are tucked in their beds, I am prostrate on the couch snoring within 10 minutes.

She's skilled in the crafts of home and hearth, diligent in homemaking. ---Ok, honestly, this is something that I like to do and am a self proclaimed "home maker". As my kids say, "I got this!" I may or may not have a layer of dust all around, piles of laundry, and be wearing yesterday's clothes, but my house feels like HOME and I know its a place that my family looks forward to coming back to.

She's quick to assist anyone in need, reaches out to help the poor. ---I am feeling convicted in this area... How am I and my family showing Christ to the world? The lost? The hungry? The hurting? Sometimes the walls of our world are very small and we tend not to see others in need...

She doesn't worry about her family when it snows; their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear. ---Winter, winter, wherefore art thou?  It's been a buck eleven here in AZ the past few days and I'm melting...  Ack. As far as clothes being all mended and ready to wear? If only you would have seen the pile of laundry last week. For a few moments I seriously considered wrapping pillow cases around my family like loincloths as I washed their underwear. 

She makes her own clothing, and dresses in colorful linens and silks. ---If I made my own clothing, I would be wearing a potato sack with three arms and "no sew tacky tape" enclosures (that is, of course, untill I finish my sewing classes...).  I do love color in my wardrobe, but silk? Silk has been outlawed in my closet since the kiddos have been a part of my life.  I can't waste $4.25 on drycleaning - I'd much rather waste that on a cup of STRONG coffee... =)

Her husband is greatly respected when he deliberates with the city fathers. I love AND respect my husband. Even if at times I want to use his toothbrush to clean "unsantitary" areas of the house. =)))  He is my best friend and a big part of anything good I have going on in my life.

She designs gowns and sells them, brings the sweaters she knits to the dress shops. Her clothes are well-made and elegant, and she always faces tomorrow with a smile. Well, you know by now that I am not a clothes maker. I'd rather shop sales or consignment - which reminds me - I have a large credit at a consigment shop... Hummm. I can face tomorrow with a smile because I am blessed. I love my family.  God is good to me.  Even when I wake up with lines in my face, drool dried on my cheek, and the sun barely peeking over the horizon when two muchkins decide its time to rise - I can still find a smile.  Give me a good gargle with some Listerine and it might even be a big smile. Give me a big fresh cup of coffee and I might even be as jolly as Ole Saint Nick (minus the un-housebroken reindeer and jelly belly).

When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say, and she always says it kindly. Ahhh, well, I have been known to speak my mind (Even when I shouldn't) and I MUST work on this. If Steve Jobs at Apple could invent a "Thought Pad" that would filter all my words and thoughts... I'd, well... I'd happily pawn my neighbors cat and that three armed sweater I made to buy one. My mind is a catch 22, I often get myself in trouble with sassy sarcasm and then on the flip side, often agree with others when I need to stand up and say what I'm really thinking. Maybe my mental filter is on backwards, or expired.  I must look into this. 

She keeps an eye on everyone in her household, and keeps them all busy and productive.  ---It's summer time at the Hyatt house.  I believe I may have a touch of Aspergers as I have written out a detailed schedule of our days.  Some call this anal, I call it brilliant!  When my children get to whining over some point or another, I just point to our blessed list, and we commence with the next activity (Which may or may not include cleaning the toilets) If I lose this list, I may run the risk of losing my mind.  I also saw another brilliant idea - check it out if you have kids who are climbing your curtains with boredom - "The "MOM! I'm bored!!" jar

Her children respect and bless her; her husband joins in with words of praise:  ---Respect must be taught AND caught.  Every day, while I teach my wee ones to respect God, their neighbor (and the neighbors fat cat), figures of authority, animals, belongings, boundaries... ect. I am in turn teaching them to respect me.  That doesn't mean there aren't instances of time outs for sassiness (they get that from Nate's side of the family... HA!) and for disrespect, but again, it's that day to day consistency of respect.  (I heard a tip from a friend that she uses a drop of hot sauce on an offensive tongue...)  My husband is a blessing to me, on low days when I feel my back end is ballooning to the size of a small brontosaurus, or when a zit is threatening to overtake the whole area I used to call my forehead, or when my impetous mouth gets me in a sticky situation, or when my imperfections show in a myraid of other ways, he loves me. Nate feeds my heart with love, praise and affirmation...  Speaking of brontosaurus, I MUST put this pop tart down... yum...

"Many women have done wonderful things, but you've outclassed them all!"Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades. The woman to be admired and praised is the woman who lives in the Fear-of-God. Give her the reward she has earned. Let everything she has done bring praise to her at the city gate. ---At the risk of confusing the Proverbs 31 woman with a stepford wife, I'm so thankful for this last verse.  It's not about perfection... It's not about expense... It's not about beauty or thin, cellulite free thighs... It's not about having a spotless home (though that would be great!)... Or about having the approval of everyone around you. It's about fearing, respecting, reverencing and LOVING our God. As Mary said when she found out she was pregnant, "Be it unto me, according to Your word."  I may spend the rest of my life, till my hair is grey, teeth are false, thankful to even have a working thigh (forget the thin, cellulite free part), working towards emmulating the Proverbs woman.  But, it's up to me, to keep at it every day... Raising my kids for God's kingdom and purpose, delevoping Christ like relationships with the hurting and wounded, keeping my marriage pure and fulfilled. 

I can't do it alone.  I need my Lord and His word. 


*This has been a life study from a "Janelle'isms Bible".

Oh, and... Madeleine decided to give herself a haircut...  sigh - what would the Proverbs woman do with this one?  Weave a carpet out of the shorn hair?

She's back!

Hello Blog Land! 

I have crawled out from under my rock and I'm back in the saddle again.  Didjah miss me?

I took some time away from my blog (and the many that I follow) to clear my head, get direction, and cut some static out of my life.

It was a "blogcation".

 My "Blogcation" started over a month ago, when I realized it was time to go get my kids from school and "WHAM" it hit me. I had spent the WHOLE of my day reading about other peoples lives. I wasn't engaging in my own. I was reading about these fabulous women who were doing and creating things in their life and I was sitting at my computer reading about it doing nothing about my own. Now, I don't normally spend a WHOLE day on google reader, but, I did start fudging with the amount of time I was spending on the computer and wasting time as a whole.

So, I "unplugged" and started really doing some mental soul searching.

What do I want to do? What am I good at?

What does God want me to do with the talents that He gave me?

I'm feeling a little more clearheaded and have a general direction for ME.

Not direction for my family, not my marriage, not my duties and ministries at church,

but direction for ME - Janelle Hyatt.

I have allowed who God created me to be individually to be swallowed up by life and circumstances and have become too ok with the thought of "Someday".

 I'm ready to make "someday I'll do ..." become "I am working on..."

I'll write more indepth when I get more than a few moments.

Well, for now I'm heading out out to puruse an antique market place - I'm on a decorating spree again (the inlaws are staying here for 2 weeks - what a motivator!)

I'll leave you with a song my 6 year old wrote and sang to me this morning...

"Good night sweetheart Mom"

You're the sweetest person I know

I wish I could kiss you now.

You're too pretty for your attitude.

I love you more than you love me

And that's ok!

I like everyway you speak

Youre the best in the world

And the flowers make you pop like daisys.

I wish you were true

You make my heart go crazy

Like the sun exploding.

I wish I had a dog, but that is ok

Because I love you anyway.

You make me special in everyway

You're the best in the world and that is ok.

You make the world a better place

Like when you're flying through the

Beauty blue sky.

I love you mom, but that is ok

But if you're always with me

Everything is ok.

Just if you're around you're always ok.

You get cranky, but that is ok.

Because if you're always around

I always love you.

You read me books everyone day.

I love you more than I love daisys and my bed.

I love you to pieces even more than my head.

Because if you're around everything is ok.

I love you mom, my love is full.

Because you're so sweet

You make my toys better.

If we had a dog, he'd lick you to pieces

And I'd laugh all the way home.

Thanks for my new bed and myself

But you are the best in the world

and I love that.

I am 6 and you are 28

But that is ok

Because we are the same.

Till we talk again my sweet friends!

Janelle

Chicken Wraps with Mango, Basil and Mint: Mmmm, summer is here!

Ok, so summer is always here for us in AZ.  Neener Neener to all you East coasters. =) 

I thought I would share one of my favorite recipes with you that I discovered in Martha Stewarts magazine. She was in jail at the time, so maybe it was her long lost Aunt's recipe... Who knows, who cares? It's good!

ENJOY!

Chicken Wraps with Mango, Basil and Mint

FOR THE CHICKEN

1 garlic clove
1/2 shallot
1/4 cup loosely packed fresh basil leaves (Fresh from my herb garden! Hope I don't kill it this year)
1 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Freshly ground pepper
2 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves (about 12 ounces total)

FOR THE DRESSING
1/2 shallot
1/2 mango, peeled and cut into 2-inch pieces
2 teaspoons fresh lime juice
Pinch of cayenne pepper (I like extra spicey, so we add more individually)

FOR ASSEMBLING
4 lavash breads (3 1/2 ounces each)  (we normally use whole wheat tortillas or pitas)
1/2 mango, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch-thick spears
8 fresh basil leaves
8 fresh mint leaves

1.Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Make the chicken: Finely chop garlic and shallot in a food processor. Add basil and oil, and process until mixture forms a coarse paste. Stir in salt and cinnamon, and season with pepper.

Make a few shallow 1/2-inch slits on both sides of chicken; rub all over with the basil mixture. Place on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake chicken until cooked through, 12 to 15 minutes. Let cool completely, then shred into small pieces; set aside.


2.Make the dressing: Finely chop shallot in the clean bowl of the food processor. Add mango, and process until smooth. Add the lime juice and cayenne, and process until combined.

3.Assemble wraps: Spread about 1/4 cup mango dressing in center of each lavash. Top with chicken, mango, and herbs. Roll up diagonally to form a cone. Wraps can be refrigerated, wrapped in parchment and plastic, up to 4 hours

We serve this with brown rice seasoned with a little cinnamon and nutmeg and a lovely spinach salad with basalmic dressing.

Enjoy!

xoxo

Restless

I have been extremely distracted as of late.

This morning, I poured my creamer into the sugar bowl instead of my coffee cup.  Standing there, staring at the half and half swimming around in the sugar crystals absentmindedly, I picked up my lukewarm coffee cup and turned around to reheat it. Not paying attention I bumped it and spilled it all over the inside of my clean microwave. Really? Come on. I just scoured the microwave yesterday. Sigh.

One friend so kindly told me that "I need coffee before I have my morning coffee..."

The truth of the matter is this - I am feeling restless. Anxious. Expectant. (No, I am NOT pregnant). I get the sense that I am waiting or that I need to be doing something.  Does that make sense?

Go easy if you dont understand this post or if it offends you. (I don't mean to be offensive, just honest).

Recently, my husband and I made a huge life choice to walk away from a very legalistic lifestyle. A way of life that we had both been raised under since birth. One where your outer appearance and dress made all the difference in how you were percieved by others. A society where you were justified by your works and outer trappings as a perception of your personal salvation. Mindsets, habits, wrong patterns of thinking, deceptive judgements, fear, heapings of guilt, unattainable expectations, religious customs and outdated traditions... 

It has been a lot to come out of.

In fact, there are moments where I literally feel like I am physically grappling with my perception of myself and others. I have lived so long in trying to appease 'man' and prove my worth to the 'mob' that I have totally lost sight of myself and what God desires for me. I am found personally guilty of being too caught up in the attention and awareness of others with motives that do not glorify God, but myself.  

In the past 6 months, since our move (in the absolute right direction for us) I have gone through the fight or flight stage (when we left Florida), the honeymoon stage (when we arrived here), the comatose stage (totally emotionally, spiritually and mentally numb), the funky stage (starting to wake up), and I believe now I am in an awareness stage. God is making me aware of the things in my life that I need to change, habits that need to be broken and judgements that need to be removed and the completeness of His love for me.

It's like teaching an old dog new tricks. It sucks. It's necessary.

This journey has been painstakingly slow. I feel overwhelmed at times by mental battles. I am amazed at the way God has shown His face to me in places I didn't expect. I fight with debilitating fear. I struggle to demolish broken down judgements. My attitude can really be awful sometimes. I am pained when I hear comments from "friends" about their concern for my salvation. I am justified by my faith in a loving Creator. I am a new creature in Christ. I attempt to make my prayers from a true heart, free of rhetoric. My heart is learning to love. I am absolutely more introspective and meloncholy than usual (which isn't all that fun for my blog readers). I desire to be complete in Him.

I know without a shadow of doubt that God has placed us here, in this very situation, for a purpose. These struggles and triumphs are with design.  My old life is gone and a new life comes forth.

So here I sit. Weary, restless - but expectant. I feel God calling me to lay down my presumptions and come to Him. To not get sidetracked with things that are unessential to His purpose. To lift my eyes above my present circumstance of this moment so I can see the destination that He created me for.

2 Thessalonians 1:11-12

Because we know that this extraordinary day is just ahead, we pray for you all the time—pray that our God will make you fit for what He's called you to be, pray that He'll fill your good ideas and acts of faith with His own energy so that it all amounts to something. If your life honors the name of Jesus, He will honor you. Grace is behind and through all of this, our God giving Himself freely, the Master, Jesus Christ, giving Himself freely.

Ephesians 1:15-19 (The Message)

That's why, when I heard of the solid trust you have in the Master Jesus and your outpouring of love to all the followers of Jesus, I couldn't stop thanking God for you—every time I prayed, I'd think of you and give thanks. But I do more than thank. I ask—ask the God of our Master, Jesus Christ, the God of glory—to make you intelligent and discerning in knowing Him personally, your eyes focused and clear, so that you can see exactly what it is He is calling you to do, grasp the immensity of this glorious way of life He has for His followers, oh, the utter extravagance of His work in us who trust Him—endless energy, boundless strength!

 ~To all you who read my blog, thank you for enduring this with me (second handedly of course) I seem to fluctuate between these very meloncholy, mind puke posts and then the silly ones. I really feel like God is working on me regarding my Blog and writing period.  I'm getting the strip down and learning to be real with myself and with all of you. My prayer is that these thoughts and the trying process will make me a better writer and hone a gift that God has bestowed me. If you glean anything along the way, then that is an added blessing to me.

Thank you for your love, prayers and time in reading.
XOXOXO