Mocha Moments

There was a moment last week, where the 'other pink toothbrush', had decided to start the day early. Maybe she wanted to check out the sun rise. Maybe she wanted some mummy time. Maybe she thought that I simply sleep too much. So she was up early, which meant she was a little grumpy as the morning wore on. Grumpy babies aren't always easy for us mums. A lot of the time, she just potters around while the four blue ones entertain her. But on this day, she wasn't pottering, she was sticking. Sticking like a grumpy, pink magnet on my hip for the whole morning, needing constant carrying.

Morning times in this household don't always ooze with calm and ease. Sometimes I'm organised and I do the lunches the night before, but the other four days of the school week, I don't. I wish I did. I wish I was that mum. We all know a version of her; 'The organised mum'. She's a wonder to behold. She's dressed in clean clothes, with washed hair. She probably got up early to pray and no doubt she's wearing matching underwear. She always knows if there is bread in the bread bin and fruit in the fruit bowl. 'Time' and 'Patience' are her best friends. I do love her. I'm happy not to be her however. I have other gifts and I'll roll with them. And I can wash my hair another day.

After the constant reminder of "teeth, shoes, jumper, teeth, shoes, jumper", I breathed a sigh of relief as we finally bundled out of the front door. I knew that my grumpy little red head would rest her eyes as we walked to school. And therefore I had a plan. I would drop the blue ones off to their various classrooms, and then I would pop over to The Hub; (a community cafe next door to the school), and I would drink a Cherry Mocha. Mmm... And as she slept for an hour, I would breathe, and think and write in my prayer journal, and take the time to connect with God. That is what I needed after my busy morning.

So we walked to school; they swung on branches, ran ahead, dragged on the buggy, hid behind the same wall that they hide behind every single day. They stopped to talk to a cat. I shouted out to avoid the dog poo. They shoved their brothers, which made them laugh. They shoved their brothers, which made them cry. They were all dropped off and I headed to The Hub. The pink bundle was still and quiet, so I ordered my Mocha, sat down and got my notebook out and breathed.

But then she looked at me, spat her dummy out, arched her back and carried on her grumpiness. Grrrrrr!!!! She had not followed the plan. And now I couldn't talk to God with my free, spare hour. As grumpy as I was starting to feel, I knew I had a window. I knew I had a ham sandwich in my bag, and therefore I had about three minutes to breath, think and write as she ate it. Not quite the planned hour, but I wrote in my journal and I felt God remind me that the 'hour planned' wasn't my real life, and that He had plenty of time for me, all the time, right in the middle of my real life. 

 

He reminded me that He had been there, ready to listen in the dark, cold hours of the morning. He had been there on the crazy that is the school run, and He was with me now. But the 'now' bit, the quiet bit, wasn't necessarily the bit where I needed His presence the most. I needed to come to Him when they couldn't find their shoes, when they couldn't find their teeth (it's another story) and when the pink one needed carrying. I need Him to carry me, right in the middle of it all, as well as enjoy Him in the Mocha moments. 

"...And Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age".
Matthew 28v20

Status Update

I love a bargain. I always have a scout round the reduced aisle and see what I can make a meal out of. My mother has taught me well. I particularly love when it's cereal - perfectly fine just in a dented box. The husband always knows when I serve him something expensive, that I'm secretly proud of myself, for spending very little on the product. Sure it may have an extra fizz to it, or smell a little whiffy, but hey it was cheap, so bring on the Great Asda bake off.

I recently found fish and mash potato sea shapes on offer in the frozen aisle. IN THE FROZEN AISLE! I mean, that doesn't even need cooking on the day of purchase. Such a result for this mum and her budget. I may have emptied the little section of 50p bargains. Those and some ice lollies for 25p. Therefore my little treasures have had a few 'sea shape meals' over the last couple of weeks. I got to five meals before one of the boys asked why this was all they eat now.

I decided to ramp up the meal on my last use of the sea shapes, with an actual seaside scene. I washed and Dettol-ed some buckets, spades and the kitchen table. I made some couscous sandcastles. I covered the table in dry couscous and added sweetcorn and pasta for a sand effect. Finally, I tipped the sea shapes on top. Voila! I called the boys in and they just starred for a moment, before getting a spade and digging in. They're not shocked by me anymore, it seems.

 

This was definitely one of those good mummy moments. You know, the kind of moments where you're happy to whip the phone out and take a picture of what's happening, and post it for the world to see. I often do that, (I hope I'm not the only one) I share the things that show the positive, happy moments that I have with my kids. And I'm thankful that there are many. I do think it's good to celebrate these things with other mums. I love seeing what other mums have done with their kids, because there was a moment captured, a moment enjoyed, a moment to smile about with that mum. But the reality is, that a lot of my life as a mum, is either mundane or difficult and usually not worth a public share or a 'like'.

The thing is, I don't tell my virtual friends when I'm stressed, angry or sad, I tell my real ones. This can however, lead to a one-sided view of my life on social media, which isn't always healthy. (Although neither is grumbling for the world to see). But I did think about what my updates would look like if I showed all aspects of my life. I'd be taking photos of a child running off, a red tantrummed face or two, definitely a weekly fighting picture, some naked bottoms, a playground strop, a child gagging on their dinner, and for last week, I'd have to add a status which said, "Today I shouted at my children and as they burst out crying, I had a go at them for that too, then I stormed out and slammed doors." #mummylosestheplot  #mummycallsdaddy #mummysayssorry



 When it comes to relating to God, I mustn't treat Him as one of my Facebook friends. I must be real and honest with Him; sharing my good mummy moments with Him, but also the sin in my life, the hidden stuff which I would never want to post about. He is much more personal with me. He doesn't just 'like' or 'dislike' something I do or say. He knows that all my words, actions and even social posts either give Him glory or grieve His heart. He is passionate and wants an intimate relationship with me. He is happy to share couscous sandcastles with me, but if this is all I share with Him, then I am missing out on some of the best parts of my relationship with Him.
In 1 John 1 it says that, "If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us."

 

iBroke

A couple of years ago a friend generously bought me an iPad for my birthday. She wanted to read more about the 'ol pink toothbrush, and therefore she said I needed to write more. I'll never forget the husband's face as I unwrapped it, and he was quick to appreciate the "what's mine is yours" part of married life. My iPad has been a wonderful source of entertainment for the family. The boys have found village building games, battle games, and running quickly games. Games with birds dressed as Star Wars characters and games with clans who clash. They're all the same game but with different characters as far as this mum can see. We've added some maths games and a copy of Warhorse, because boys do seem to love combining the technical side of life with learning. And then there's the husband's 'Garage Band', where he can live out his youth by pretending he's in a band called No Direction or Undecided or something similar. He plays every instrument in the band; such talent.

The iPad has also been a great training tool. We've used it to teach about time wasting, priorities and idols. As well as the classic lesson "Screens do not mean you can ignore your family". The iPad is regularly used to teach selflessness, rather than taking turns. We tend not to go for 'fair' in this house. Instead we remind the little people about Jesus' selfless love, and how the cross wasn't fair, but tipped heavily in our favour. However, the iPad's biggest training ground was for me and the husband.

As the family arrived home in the car, one of the boys asked if they could carry the iPad in. The husband explained that they could, but they were to hold it tightly and not run with it. As we walked towards the house, we saw said child running with the iPad, tripping with the iPad, and dropping the iPad.

We scrunched up our eyes, hoping to turn back time, but we both knew. We just knew, as we watched the iPad slide along the concrete. That beautiful smooth screen was now shattered into a hundred tiny pieces. A spontaneous double yell of  "Get to your room" was heard all down the street, as we silently entered the house. The husband was due to go out, but he couldn't leave the child up in his room, wondering if he had a future.

So after a calming down period, the husband went upstairs and spoke to the child in question. The child was very remorseful, very apologetic and knew that he had done wrong. Of course, it was the disobedience which needed addressing. The iPad's demise was a consequence of disobedience. The husband dealt with the incident, while I nursed the poorly iPad in the kitchen. When the husband came back downstairs, he explained to me that our son was still alive and that he had not simply said sorry to his dad, but that he had truly repented. His dad forgave him. The boy had hugged him, smiled and walked away.

We both realised that we were miffed at how freely our son had walked away. We wanted him to be more guilt ridden, to have his tail between his legs, to dwell more on his sin, for it to affect him longer. God spoke to us in that moment. The iPad was still broken, and there would be a cost to fix it. But the sin had been dealt with, the boy had said sorry and his father had forgiven him. And that's really how it is with us. Our sin and its consequences have caused us to be broken, and it cost Jesus His life to fix it. But when we come to Him truly repentant, He is quick to forgive, and we can walk away guilt free, secure in the father's unconditional love.

It's taken a while to blog about this one, because it just seemed so unfair that our boy was so free from the incident after he'd been forgiven. But we tend not to go for 'fair' in this house. Instead, as well as reminding the little people, we remind the big people about Jesus' selfless love, and how the cross wasn't fair, but tipped heavily in our favour.

"God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." 2 Corinthians 5v21

All Day Long

Wow my last post was a month ago, what's that about? Ah yes, it was August. A time for laying in, staying in pyjamas, lazy DVD days, doing 'whatever we please whenever we please' days and generally just chilling out. Plus of course, the actual reality of 6 weeks with all 5 kids, all day, every day, from sun rise to sun set, every minute of every hour...

It's a funny mix, the summer holidays. I love not being in a routine. I'm never late anywhere, because there is no where to be. I love just letting the kids play and eat freely, while still being in my pyjamas, (and if possible, still under a duvet). I love playing with them and seeing them and hearing them, and just them being around me all day long. But the other side to it, is that I see them and hear them all day long. They're around me all day long. Like ALL day long. They need food all day long, they need entertaining all day long, they need a mediator, an arts and crafts specialist, a Lego builder, a trainer, a bottom wiper, a chef, an activities coordinator, a law enforcement officer, a tone changer, a friend, a listener, a perspective changer, a teacher, a hugger... all day long.
In a nutshell, they need me all day long.

They don't seem to get the 'August memo', that us mums can just take a break. No more uniforms to wash, book bags to go through, newsletters to read, lunch boxes to empty, reading books to slowly and painfully sit through. No more Chip or Biff or Kipper! No more homework or school runs or time restraints. Just a nice relaxing month or so off....

Older, wiser mums say things like 'it goes so quickly' and 'you can't get that time back' and 'they're only little for a short time'. Us younger, 'not so wise yet' mums think August itself is the slowest month in history and the little ones have been little forever, and life as we know it, will never change. We will learn I'm sure, and we in time will hear ourselves imparting that same wisdom to mums who can't quite take it on board yet..

 It seems you can't quite take the month off from the privilege of being a mum. There they are every day, all day long. They come with their wants and needs and delights and conversations. With their questions and heartaches, and curiosity and repetitiveness. With their joys and disappointments. With their squabbles and achievements. With their grazes and in this house, with their woodlice. And yes they need me all day long. It's what I'm here for.  


Of course, there's the realisation that I need my Heavenly Father all day long too. I need Him all the time, every day. He doesn't tire of me or take time off from loving me. He loves seeing me and hearing me all day long. He loves just being around me. He's waiting to hear my questions, my heartaches, my disappointments, my joys and my squabbles. He'd be totally engaged if I wanted to show Him a woodlouse. And He's also ready and waiting to give me the strength and grace I need to do this mothering malarky all day long, every day, from sun rise to sun set, every minute of every hour...

"I can do all this through him who gives me strength."
Philippians 4v13

"The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.
 He fulfils the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cry and saves them."
Psalm 145v18-19

4am

Sometimes it's 4am and you find yourself awake. Awake, giving out Calpol to the one who hurt his arm and knee in two spectacular falls today, and a midnight treat combination of Calpol, milk and cuddles for the littlest snuffly one. And yes you're tired and yes you're working out how many minutes you've got left on your pillow before either the sun comes up or the sons get up, but you're also very grateful.

Right now, that's me. I'm grateful. Grateful that my house is full of sleeping children. And grateful that my bed holds a sleeping husband. Grateful that I have a bed, and grateful that my tummy is full (although a midnight cereal treat for myself might just add to the gratefulness). Grateful for this big messy house. And grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who would bless me with all these things.

It's not even been one of those days where you view the world through rose-tinted glasses; the days where everything goes well - when there's healthy food in the house, love in the house, creative activities or even self initiating homework in the house and of course peace and harmony in the house. (I've heard these days exist). It's been a day of all the usual joys of motherhood; tantrums, discipline, poo seeping through vests, Calpol, grazed elbows, baby eating unknown items, only one child bathed, wiping bottoms, tears, laughter, discipline, eating dry cereal, hurtful words, hugs, iPad arguments, woodlice, dinosaurs, superheros, mum doing well, and mum doing badly moments. It's been hard work today, relentless heart training and tone correcting (mine as well as theirs). And a game of Snakes & Ladders which I genuinely thought would never end and would have rather given the kids money than carry on playing!

But for some reason, at 4am, I'm just simply so grateful. I'm mindful of my friends who would love to be up at this time, cuddling pink bundles or comforting wounded blue ones. I'm mindful of my friends who would love to have a sleeping, slightly snoring spouse, in their bed, taking far too much of the duvet. And I'm mindful of my friends who are going through life and don't know what it is to have God's love and His complete, wonderful forgiveness. I'm mindful of my friends who haven't found a friend in Jesus and haven't been blown away by what He did for them on the cross.

"Rejoice always,  pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus". 1 Thessalonians 5v16-18

Heavenly Father, thank you. Thank you that I know your love and forgiveness. Thank you for your son and all He did for me, by dying on the cross. Thank you for the husband. Thank you for one, two, three, four and five. Just thank you x

School Report; Could Try Harder

Drawing near to the end of term, not only brings on severe cases of End-of-Term-Itis, it also brings the delight that is 'Non-Competitive Sport's Day', teacher present buying and of course school reports. Sport's day; I just won't comment on, apart from to say that I jolly well cheered hard for my son as he didn't compete against anyone. Teacher present buying; I sent the kids into school as spies on a mission. They had to find out what their teachers and teaching assistants liked, but in a more subtle way than "What do you want my mum to buy you?" Restaurant vouchers, clothes vouchers, posh chocolate and alcohol seemed to cover everyone. 

And then there's the school reports and final chats with the teachers. You kind of want to stroke the teachers, say 'Well Done' to them, get them a duvet and let them sit in a darkened room somewhere. But instead you ask them to explain what the numbers and letters mean and how well your child has done and what they could improve on. You have to be able to read 'Teacher Code', when analysing the reports. Knowing my dear boys, I add my own interpretations when I read "lively and outgoing", "a great sense of humour" and "contributes well with regard to Christianity and sharing his own experiences".

There are joys too, when I read 'personable', 'shows respect', 'polite', and 'team player', as I know that some of that is down to training. You know, the every day stuff that you train and train and train and train, until eventually it shows up on a school report or even better 'out in public'. They need to work harder at some things, especially the dull old details of spelling and punctuation, and a little less silliness here and there. There's always ways for them to improve their learning and there's things to congratulate them on.

I asked the boys to do me a school report; how well I've done this term as a mum. A brave and stupid task. I didn't bribe them with snacks as they answered. But I was in a relatively stable emotional state as I listened at the door. Apparently I'm doing well at 'serving my husband and children, making meals, disaplining (Okay, so the teacher may be right about the spelling) and being a mum'. I can live with that. But apparently I do need to 'shout less and work on my gentleness, and self-control'. Ha ha how perceptive these little people are. Can't keep much from them. A fair assessment I'd say.

We had a good chat about the reports. I explained that I was just as interested in the character bits as much as the results and grading. Got to love working on the 'heart stuff'. And we spoke about God's view of us; how we were His enemies; evil sinners who were far away from Him. And how He loved us when we were like that, and how Jesus' death on the cross meant that we can now be His adopted sons and daughters and come close to Him.

We chatted too, about how perfect our Heavenly Father is compared to us. He doesn't need to work on His self-control or silliness. He doesn't shout at us and I reckon His spelling is outstanding too. There is always going to be heart stuff for God to work on in us. He wants us to be more like Jesus and live more of a life of worship to Him. One day we will all have to stand before Him as He reads every detail of our report to us. Gulp! And then He will accept us in or turn us away, based on whether we accepted Jesus' and lived for Him, or not. It's good to ask Him what areas He'd like us to glorify Him in more. Thankfully though, He never writes 'Could Try Harder' over us. Instead in His grace, He writes over our reports, in blood-red letters, 'Accepted', 'Redeemed', 'Restored' and 'Forgiven'. That's surely one to frame and tell everyone about!

"Blessed are those
whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered."
Romans 4v7                                        

"A person may think their own ways are right,
but the Lord weighs the heart.

 To do what is right and just is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice." Proverbs 21v2-3

End-of-Term-Itis

Looking at my latest blog entry, I see that it was quite some time ago. I could happily sit here and tell you that's it's because I've been busy with life; the kids, the husband, the friends, the church etc. I could say I've been so busy loving all the above people that I couldn't possibly prise myself away from the fun and training and imparting, in order to write. But that would be what we call a lie.

Two of the boys have come down heavily with a dose of  end-of-term-itis; they're not just tired, they are beyond tired. And they are hot and sweaty and grubby and tearful and cross and fed up and overwhelmed and over emotional, and I totally get where they are coming from! I can relate to this terrible disease. It's one that really knocks you down, and vitamins don't shift it, just long periods of sleep, which is hard to come by these days. When a mum is suffering with end-of-term-itis, and she comes into contact with two little people suffering from it too, it's not a pretty sight. So my parenting game plan has been on the defensive; 'react to what they're doing and just try to survive the match'. Somewhere over the last few weeks, I have forgotten that my job is to love them and train them, and I have re written my job description as 'Just get through 'til bedtime'. I've been scared to parent them, knowing that they are just going to kick off and walk away from me or they're going to burst out crying. Or I am.

Now I know that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. But knowing it and living in the truth of it are two different things. I haven't been coming to Him in the kind of way which seeks Him, and spends time with Him and reads His word, or even just falls on Him humbly, sincerely asking for help. For some reason, I have decided that I can tackle this end-of-term-itis without God's help. Tackling anything with a strong burst of pride, is never going to cure anything. I just know I can't do the parenting, the wife-ing and the serving, without walking closely with Jesus. And I can't blog either. I can't write about grace when Im not living in it.

Last Tuesday, I had one of those 'sob-in-your-breakfast-bowl-I-can't-do-this-anymore' moments in front of the family. They graciously prayed for me, and then the husband left for Berlin for a few days. (Ha ha ha...silently rock in a darkened room). It was then that end-of-term-itis was either going to wipe this whole family out, and the husband was going to come home to a mess, or this mum was going to ask God to coach her, and change the parenting game plan to being on the offensive; 'plan beforehand and win this match', which mainly involved prayer, and water balloons. And of course, He did coach me. But more importantly I remembered that He also substituted Himself for me, and that it is by His grace I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Psalm 145 has been my friend during end-of-term-itis. Remembering what my coach is like, has helped me play the parenting game much better. 

 "The Lord is gracious and full of compassion, Slow to anger and great in mercy. The Lord is good to all, and His tender mercies are over all His works. The Lord upholds all who fall, and raises up all who are bowed down." Psalm 145v8,9,14