A Cup of Milk

Bedtimes can just be so full on!!

For the mum, it's like the finishing line; the thing they've been working towards all day. The epic finale to the show with it's various characters; people exiting and entering the main stage, with costume changes and intervals, and a script which seems so familiar, with huge amounts of comedic ad-libbing, forgotten lines and sheer dramatic performances. 

As the little people are ushered up to their beds, the mum starts to see the curtain tassles untie for the final close. She hopefully expects to hear rapturous applause, maybe flowers thrown on the stage; an appreciation of the performance she has given today. She was after all, the stage manager, the understudy, the main character, the background chorus, the prop handler, the care-taker all in one. She gave a great performance today, her children will probably call her blessed as they thank her for her parenting, laying their heads upon their pillow....

For the child however, this is the encore. They've got a whole other scene prepared. They're ready to bring out the fire eating act, and delve into the character of Verruca Salt. They have no idea you were even part of the show. This is their moment, and they're going to give it all they've got.

These two approaches to the final curtain call, can really cause some instability to the whole performance. I personally get all jittery, winding down to 'me time'. I don't want the kids to steal my time. And they love me sooooo much, that they want to squeeze out every last minute of time with me, which is nice!! It's funny because we don't do fair in this house, but it's just so unfair when they still have pillow demands of me....a cup of milk, the Bible, a kiss, a wee, a cup of milk, a philosophical question, a funny story, a lost dog, a cup of milk, something that happened at school, a cup of milk, a missing Lego man, a few tears, some water, a reenactment of a fairy tale, a stolen pillow, a form to be signed, etc.

Tonight, just getting the first two down was an emotional roller coaster, and I was spent. I had nothing else to give. My littlest asked for the Bible, while she drank her cup of milk. I took a deep breath, or was it a sigh, and I read the next story in her Bible; a story that she probably didn't understand, but it hit home to me. The story was about a man called Elijah who met a very poor widow. She only had enough flour and oil to make one loaf of bread, and then her and her son would die. Always a nice cheery story to read a two year old before she sleeps, but I read it in a cheery Mr Tumble voice, and skipped the death bit. Elijah asked the widow to make him a loaf of bread first, and then make her own bread, and God would see to it that her flour and oil didn't run out.

I was so stirred, that at this widow's hungriest and emptiest moment, she gave to someone else first. What a wonderful picture of motherhood; giving when we've nothing left to give, when we're spent, when we're done in. God provided for that widow in such a miraculous way; providing her with enough flour and oil, to ensure she didn't go hungry. He gives to me too. I'm probably not going to make my own bread anytime soon, although with oil and flour, and maybe a cup of milk, I could attempt some pancakes. But my Heavenly Father does give me grace, strength, energy, rest, and another tomorrow, to go again. He's never spent or done in. There was a moment when Jesus gave His life for me, when He gave His all in my place, when He lovingly went out of His way for me, so I never have to go without again. 

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son,

 that whoever believes in him shall not perish 

but have eternal life". John 3v16

Just Do It

So my first post of the year; New Year, New You, saw me claiming the word "Intentional" as my own, for the whole year! And it's been rather interesting so far. For starters, you can pretty much do anything and just add the word intentional to it, and it makes you feel better haha. Love an easy win.

I've had quite a few people message me encouragement from my Instagram stories, saying they've appreciated how I see the word intentional. I think I used to see it as 'do more', or at least, 'just do it' (Whatever it actually is) 'be better', 'try harder', and ultimately 'try to be someone I'm not', which can be really demoralising, tiring, and not honouring to God. He made me to be be, not someone else. 

However, He does want me to be the best me I can be (in His strength, not my own).

I had a bit of a blow out with one of my boys. It was one who I don't have many blow outs with; our personalities don't clash, and his temperament  is pretty chilled. He over reacted, and then I over reacted, then he was very frustrated and I equally so, resulting in tears and huffs from us both. He went off to read, and I went off to the kitchen.
The kitchen; my weird haven. It was close to his bedtime so I knew I could just get him into bed, and then have some time to blog, and intentionally encourage a mum or two and just breathe a bit.

I wondered what 'being intentional with my parenting' meant in that moment, and I found myself seizing the moment. I sat next to him on the floor, said what I was sorry for, asked what he was sorry for. We hugged, we prayed, we forgave, and I asked him if there was a film we could watch together. He reminded me that it was his bedtime, which is his way of asking, 'are we watching the whole thing, or are you going to make me stop half way'? (Something he doesn't like too much). And I said the most important thing for me right now was to 'lean in and love him'. So we watched a half decent movie about Earthquakes. I didn't blog, or encourage a mum. But I intentionally loved my son, and it was just so worth it.

There was another moment this week, where the kitchen was an absolute state. It had got on top of me, as it does. I had made a meal for a new born mum and her family, and then was stressing at having to make my own kids a meal, and clear the table so we could all eat together as a family... I knew it would be through gritted teeth. So instead I set up a little camp for the girls, which means 'drape the curtain over the sofa, and give them pillows', and I didn't ask the boys to come away from 'Ultimate Ninja' or whatever they were watching, and I just made a heap load of sausages which they ate in front of their screens. I don't know whether this was intentional parenting, or intentional breathing space. But I know it served us all better than if I had stressed to do the other stuff.

I think the word 'intentional' for me, has relieved some of the Mummy Guilt. Ah man, that 'I'm not good enough' feeling mums seem to get the moment a child is handed to them. What is that? And where does it come from? Eating sausages in front of screens could easily be seen as a fail, a 'not good enough', a 'can't be bothered', with just a load of mum guilt thrown in, especially when family meal times are really important to us. But for some reason, making an intentional decision to do this for me, for my sanity, for my capacity, lessened all of that. And of course, the kids think it was the best so it was a win win.

Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men,

 knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. 

You are serving the Lord Christ. Colossians 3v23-25

The Kitchen

The Kitchen; My Weird Haven

The Kitchen is where I spend most of my time

The kitchen is where I feed my tribe

The kitchen is where I makes cups of tea

The kitchen is where I provide for their needs

The kitchen is where we try and listen to each other

The kitchen is actually where we talk over each other

The kitchen is where we eat our food

The kitchen is where I gauge their mood

The kitchen is where they want after-school snacks

The kitchen is where we get family-time back

The kitchen is where we shoot nerf guns 

The kitchen is where I escape their fun

The kitchen is where I run to my phone

The kitchen is where I can be alone

The kitchen is where I'm reminded I'm messy

The kitchen is where I take a break from the stressy

The kitchen is where I do not bake

The kitchen is where I whisper, 'For Goodness sake'

The kitchen is where they come and tell

The kitchen is where I try not to yell

The kitchen is where I glance at the man

Thankful and bemused by this noisy clan

The kitchen is where they drop all the plates

The kitchen is where I start running late

The kitchen is where they do their chores

The kitchen is where they say they're bored

The kitchen is where I wash their clothes

The kitchen is where I butter the loaves

The kitchen is where tears are shed

The kitchen is where laughter is bred

The kitchen is where the dishes get clean

The kitchen is where they're not on their screens

The kitchen is where they tell me their day

The kitchen is where I try and pray

The kitchen is where my people sit,

to talk about life and marriage; all of it.

The Kitchen is where I do what I do

The kitchen, you're welcome, no matter who.

New Year, New You

So it's January again... I nearly managed to keep last year's Resolution, which was to keep my bank cards in my wallet. And the husband was right, (as he so often is on this subject), you do lose your cards less, if they're kept in a wallet, in a bag, rather than in a back pocket! Ha Who knew?!

I'm not really one for New Year's Resolutions, mainly because I just don't stick to stuff, and it feels really constrictive. But this year I have been unwillingly challenged in a few places, which is really not fair this early on in the diary...

A friend of mine shared a blog post about finishing the last year well, with the hope of starting the next one well too. You can read it here. I responded with 'eurgh I hate these things', like the mature godly woman that I am. I don't know what it is about those things that make me squirm; possibly the non completer/finisher in me, possibly it's being married to Mr systematic, (he would LOVE this blog post, and probably suggest that we read it together every week), possibly it's the fear of being boxed in, maybe it's laziness, I don't know. But for the first time, I felt compelled to not only read the blog post, but give it some actual thought and time, and even practically do what it says! 

This, alongside being challenged by a couple of friends of mine to follow Allie Casazza on Instagram. (Shes a de-cluttering guru, who encourages people to think of a word or phrase for the year ahead; something that will inspire you, spur you on, refocus you etc.) After joking about the words 'Shallow' and 'Prosecco', I completed the above blog post challenge, and I have come up with the word 'Intentional', which I kept forgetting at first. But now it's staying put for the year, and now I've told all of you, so there's no backing out of it.

I feel like God has spoken to me about my negative view of words/blog posts/conversations etc on structure, routine, disciplines, resetting, focus, goals even.... and He would actually like me to use some of these things to be more intentional with what He has called me to do. Challenge accepted! Mmm...not that easy is it, if it's just not your comfort zone. Happy to have 6 kids and live at a fast pace, and high capacity. Not so happy to add structure and a time table into my week, in case I cant be me anymore. I am however made in God's image, and He is all about the order, and the spontaneous all at once, so I'll take His lead. Always a good idea!

So in case you want to know, this year I aim to be more intentional in the following areas;

*Intentionally reading the Bible daily (for me and for the benefit of others).

*Be intentional with my time 'right now' and for the week ahead.

*Be intentional with my parenting and my marriage.

*Intentionally trying not to get frustrated with the kids.

*Be more intentional with a certain blog I write.

*Be an intentional encourager!

*Ask God to speak to/through me.

Let me know if God speaks to you, if you have a word for the year ahead, or ask me about my list...

"Now may the God of peace...

 equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever." Hebrews 13v20-21

TalkTalk

The other evening, I only had one child in the house with me. His two little sisters were in bed. One of his brothers was at a gig with his dad, one was at a youth group, and one was at a Youth Small group. So it was just me and him; a rare moment in this house, just two  people. That's just one conversation going on! 

I think one of the most intense things about having a big family, is the amount of conversations which can be going on at any given time. I'm sure there is some wonderful mathematical way of working it out, but I'll leave that to the people who enjoy stats.

From a mum point of view, its about one million! Some of them, talk without ceasing I'm sure. Now, I'm a chatter so I am partly to blame for the volume of words used...but the thing which takes a lot of patience with this parenting malarkey, is the third party.

You'll be having a conversation with one or two children, but then a third and even a fourth pipe up with something not so helpful, or funny, or just their opinion. Basically something distracting which takes away from the original conversation which you were in the middle of having. Then you have to repeat yourself to ensure you have been understood.

And if a 5th child enters in, it's anarchy. 

(Of course if you have a two/three year old then you're in the repetition stage, which is a whole load of conversation from one tiny human being; they ask a question, you give the answer, they repeat the question, you repeat the answer. They may throw in a 'why' at which point you know you're doomed, and you admit defeat with "just because..." But then something will trigger the 'ask, answer, repeat' scenario. For us currently, it's the traffic lights. When we stop at red, she asks about it, we explain, she asks again....until the next traffic light. Such fun to be had on Brighton seafront!)

The funniest/most stressful of the 'conversation interuption', is when I'm using a slightly raised voice, let's call it a stern voice, so less than shouty, but still with eyebrow involvement, and one of the others just interrupts with nothing relating to the original conversation at all, but now they have found themselves on the receiving end of the stern voice, when they had done nothing wrong. This is both confusing for mum, and said child, and it is a tricky thing to manage the transition from one tone to another with different children. You may have to apologise to the interrupting child, because they have been unfairly 'wrong toned'. Plus the original child, the one being told off, now thinks the conversation is over so they wander off and you have to start again... Aaarrggghhhhh!!

Anyway, that was a lot of words to describe a lot of words. Haha. So back to me and my boy... Now one of the bits of advice we've stolen/borrowed in regards to parenting, is to be available whenever possible and to get into their worlds. When there's multiple children in the house, I hear myself saying "yes in a minute", sometimes because I simply can't get round to all their needs in one go, and sometimes to fob them off, in the hope they forget. But this evening, there was just the one, so I decided to be available to him.

Well...he was on the PlayStation playing a Marvel game, and he sure tested my availability.  "Mum, come and look at what Hulk can do". "Mum, come and look at Captain America's shield". "Mum, look at this epic battle". "Mum, watch me drive this car". "Mum, come see how cool this is". "Mum, look at Iron man fly". "Mum, look what happens if I do this", "Mum, I got multiple coins, look". And with each one of these 'totally cool' observations, I got up and went into the lounge from the kitchen. We engaged in a few minutes conversation about the wonder that beheld him, until he was totally zoned in again, oblivious to my existence once more. Nineteen times I responded, fully engaged in the wonders of Marvel, in less than half an hour. It was amusing to say the least, but I know God spoke through it.

God is always available to me, always. Whenever I call on Him, He's there, available, interested, engaged with me. Sometimes I may not feel as though He is, but if His Bible is true, then He's there, regardless of my feelings. He's never busy dealing with someone else's need, unavailable to me. It's not a chore for Him to say "Yes daughter".

And He's actually interested. I was interested in what my son had to say, but I sure faked some of the excitement of blowing up a Lego villain. God is interested in me. He really likes what I've got to say. He doesn't think I talk too much. Sometimes I think I wont bother God with the little details of my life, but I need to learn to be more like my son was with me. I need to be much more chit-chatty with God. He's my Heavenly Father and He's interested in each conversation, each feeling, each thought, each concern, each fun thing, each exciting thing, each thing I've learned, each fear, each dream, each random bit about me. It's so valuable to have quality time with God, to study His word and take time to hear from Him, but I think there is a real gain to conversing freely with Him too.

Quite simply put...

"pray without ceasing" 1 Thessalonians 5v17

Load of Old Rubbish

No laptop means no blogging! I managed to post the last one on an old iPad. It's one of my favourite things, that old iPad. It doesn't really do much nowadays, hence the lack of blogging. It has it's own little flaws; It doesn't let you go back to see what you've already written. Maybe that's a good thing; I could just go for it, no regrets, but the grammar police would get me, and what if it's too funny, (if there is such a thing) or too serious (I doubt it), or too honest (nah honesty is good for the soul) or it just misses the point...

Anyway, editing isn't really possible, neither is photo transferring, and it is soooo slow.... But I love it. I love it because a dear friend of mine bought it for me, (one of those friends who doesn't have spare cash). She bought it for me when I said I was thinking of blogging, and she wanted to encourage my writing gift. How kind is that?! I also love it because of the valuable lesson it taught one of my boys when he smashed it. (Take a look at iBroke). And of course the valuable lesson it taught the husband. Thirdly, it is a glorified babysitter. It will show countless annoying episodes of Peppa Pig, and totally perfect episodes of Topsy & Tim, literally for as long as I tell it to. 

I guess it's easy to assume it's rubbish now, seeing as it doesn't do what it was maybe designed to do. It's probably monetarily worthless. There are much better models out there. But it's mine, and I'm fond of it...

My mother in law had a wonderful parenting revelation for me recently. I was explaining the attitude you can get back from the kids, along with the burdens and upsets they carry, and how hard that can be. (She parented the husband, so experienced a bit of backchat). He always has to remind me not to take it personally, which I totally do. 
And then she said, "Well of course, you're the dustbin. They're meant to unload all their rubbish into you, so they feel better, and then they don't have to carry it around themselves. You mustn't hold onto that rubbish either. It's not yours to keep".

Well...that revelation of course brought me to tears. It was just such a simple picture of what it can feel like to be a mum; the days when they're sad and you can't fix them, the days when they're mad and you can only try to understand them, the days when you're to blame, even when you're technically not to blame...whether it's a two year old's tantrum, or an older child's outburst, whether it's injustice to one, or heartache for another, this is all offloaded to you the parent, which of course can feel a bit rubbish. 

But like my mum in law wisely suggested, we mustn't keep hold of that rubbish. That wont do us any good whatsoever. We will simply go off! We'll rot. We'll just stink! We need to offload it ourselves. "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light". Matthew 11v28-30

God the Father said these words to us, to encourage us to come to Him, to give our junk to Him, and receive His rest instead. My youngest daughter LOVES the bin lorry. Monday mornings rock her world, as she watches the man take our bin, attach it to his bright green truck and empty the contents into it. They have a weekly wave. It's a very joyous occasion. 

And this is how we should be, with our kids' rubbish, gladly offloading it to The One who can fix their sadness, The One who does understand why they're mad today, The One who took it all and put it on His son's shoulders when He died. Jesus who wasn't at all to blame, not even just a technicality, took it all so that we could live abundantly, so that our kids could live abundantly, even in the midst of their woes.

Sometimes I think I'm a bit rubbish, a bit worthless; there's much better models out there. But when I start thinking like that, I realise I've kept hold of some rubbish. I've started to go off and stink a bit. That's not how I'm designed to be. God is very fond of each one of us. I will look at the bin lorry itself with fondness this week. (Maybe not too fondly, in case I freak out the bin men). But it will be a reminder for me to not keep any rubbish, but to gladly see it carried off, never to be brought back.

Ten Out of Ten

This week me and the husband celebrated fifteen years of marriage. Well let's just say we reached fifteen years of marriage. We didn't exactly celebrate. This photo was taken with a Lemsip in hand for Him and in between frequent visits to the loo for me. We managed a smile, and a laugh. We didn't go in for a kiss. Marriage may be about sharing, but he didn't want what I had! We were in bed for 9pm, for nothing other than hoods up, bed socks on and asleep by 9:30pm. Living the dream. 

Last year, we celebrated in Rome! The husband often asks me what 'number out of ten' do I think our marriage is at, right now? It's a brave question. I mean, if I've cried that day and it was possibly his fault, or he was just vaguely to blame, then that number is going to be low. And if I've had a cup of tea in bed that morning, I might go way high. There's nothing to base my answer on apart from just how I feel in the moment. And he knows that about me. He then asks me, "what would get it to a ten?" This particular time, instead of the answer he may have been expecting like, "text me back in the day/change more nappies", I said "take me to European cities, without the kids". Short and simple. 

So that's what we have been doing, when we can arrange the military operation that is the babysitting of 6 kids. (Thank you to all who have taken part in this operation #grandparents #church #friends #schoolmums. You know I appreciate you). It's now in our budget planning, as is family holidaying.

The husband rarely changes what would make it a 10 for him, (when I'm brave enough to ask the question back). He wants more sex, more respect and more words of affirmation. Repeat.

The first time we went anywhere, was Barcelona, 5 years ago. Love that city, and sad for its recent pain. We realised once more, how wonderfully different God has made us to be. The husband is the 'let's do lots of things and see lots of things and go to lots of places, with a timed schedule' kind of person, and I'm more of the 'Mojito in one hand, on the beach, what's a schedule?' kind of person. Ah Barcelona, the first time I ever swore at my husband. In short, there had been a 'miscommunication' about a market, so I swore at him. Oh I was so angry. We were on hire bikes at the times, so after my first (of still a few) swears at the love of my life, I cycled off in a triumphant huff. Except that I was in a different city, and didn't know my way round, so I had to cycle just far enough in front, to make sure he was still close behind me.  

So Rome was last year. We hired segways and went on a tour of Rome to find out interesting things about the city, which one of us was really interested in. The husband of course, nailed it on his first try and I embarrassingly just went backwards with the tour guide telling me to thrust my hips forward. 

So our fourteenth year seemed more of a celebration than our fifteenth year. But that's what marriage is like; walking the ups and downs with each other, the highs and the lows, the tears and the joy. 

The longer we are married, the more different we realise we are. The husband is ever so focussed, methodical, tidy, good at time keeping, scheduled, ordered, you know the type who like the Tupperware lids to match the Tupperware boxes, with no spares required. And I'm more the 'so there isn't a lid which fits, let's use cling film, and wrap it in a carrier bag' type. I do not understand his ways, although I see the  benefits and he does not understand mine. And as we tell any couple we meet with, it's a different way of doing things not a wrong way. 

Also the longer we are married, the more we have a glimpse of what this 'mystery of marriage' is all about. In short, it's about living selflessly, giving to the other, loving unconditionally, putting them first, leaning into their preference, putting their needs above your own, whilst encouraging them, spurring them on, and forgiving quickly. It is of course an image of the gospel. Jesus came to Earth, to love and to serve, to rescue and to save, to deny Himself in order to put us first. Was it easy? Loving us definitely was, and is. But I don't think dying on a cross, and being separated from His father was easy. It was a sacrifice. It literally took blood, sweat and tears. He didn't just step out of His comfort zone, He stepped out of Heaven, humbled Himself, to put us first. 

And that is what marriage is meant to be a reflection of. Bit of a challenge if you ask me. I get a miffed when the husband doesn't put me first. I hear my kids say what I'm literally thinking, "muuuum he's not being selfless to me". My tantrums just come out a bit differently; a slightly slammed drawer (although ours have that annoying soft close effect), a stoney silence, a raised eyebrow, a huff, a shake of the head. Maybe for some, it's a shout, a swear or a walk out. We see our kids tantrums for what they are, but ignore our own because they're usually a bit more civilised than rolling on the floor screaming. (For some of us anyway).

I said earlier that marriage was about sharing. I don't actually believe that. Marriage isn't about give & take or being fair, or 50:50. It's actually about loving the other person with a gospel love. And that takes hard work, a lot of forgiving, and a daily reliance on God to help. Sometimes marriage requires other people to speak into it. We've had to meet with another couple before, when we're not able to see past hurt or bickering. It's humbling but well worth it for the strengthening of our marriage, and for the benefit of our kids, and ultimately strong marriages are a blessing to the church, and the community.

I can now see when the husband secretly wants to throttle me, but chooses love instead. And hopefully he can see when I'm putting him first, albeit through teeth. We haven't nailed or perfected marriage. Maybe ten out of ten happens after 60years or something, but we do enjoy marriage immensely, and laugh at each other a lot. So here's to the next fifteen... 

"This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church. However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband".