Sugar & Spice & All Things Nice

I'm a mum to boys and a mum to girls. Some of it is exactly the same, and some is different. One of the differences has to be just simply the smell. Sure all nappies smell the same, and each sticker-giving deposit in the potty. But apart from that, boys seem to have a certain whiff about them which I'm sure girls don't have. Maybe I'm just biased. After all, us girls smell of sugar and spice, and all things nice. It's hard to pinpoint the origin of the 'boy smell', maybe it's a combination of things. The boys have cans of Lynx which they spray around their rooms, which beautifully adds to the freshness. 

Another difference is that the girls in my house watch me. They watch me put deodorant on. They watch me moisturise. They watch me put make up on. They watch me put my earrings in. The boys do not notice these things. That may be a stereotype, but that's literally the truth in my house. They watch me re-fill the snack drawer! This week, one of my daughters watched me put some perfume on, and she asked if she could have some. I told her to spray her neck and her wrists, rub them together and then smell them. She said it was a pretty smell. 

I told her there was perfume in the Bible, and my daughter looked quizzically at me. 

"A woman in that town who lived a sinful life learned that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, so she came there with an alabaster jar of perfume. As she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them". 

I explained, as best I could to a four year old, that when this lady poured perfume on Jesus, she was actually worshipping him. My daughter thought that worship was just singing, and even as an adult I sometimes still get caught up in this thinking. I explained that worship was actually how we live our lives, and that any choice we make which is a God choice, is worship. 

Whether or not she fully understood, doesn't actually matter, because I have all her days in my house to speak into her life. I asked her who she could be kind to today, and I said that being kind to people was like spraying perfume on them. Kindness is a godly choice and therefore it was worship to Him, especially if she was kind to people who didn't deserve it. 
At this point, she chose a sibling she could be kind to. Obviously the 'not deserving it' bit struck a chord with her.

It was a great visual throughout the day, for her to be reminded of. And a nicer tactic for me to use, rather than the normal, 'stop winding your brother up'. She continued to smell the perfume on her wrists. The only problem was that the visual stuck with me. Any time I was a bit snappy with the kids or grumbly towards the husband, I just had a little nudge as to whether I was spraying perfume on the people in my house, or indeed throwing a whole other smell at them; whether I was bringing worship to God with my actions, or in fact not.

Mmm...tricky with this training malarkey, because the little people in my life, don't just watch me put perfume on, they watch to see if I live a life of pleasing aroma to God; a life of worship.

Piles

Earlier this week, my mum and dad came down for a visit. This usually means they arrive around lunchtime, and dad will quickly say, “I could die of thirst here”, which is sarcastic code for ‘make me a cup of tea’. I let him off, partly because I'm pretty used to it now, and also because him and mum take me and their granddaughters out for lunch. We went out for cake, and then down to the beach, where it’s customary to throw pebbles in the sea.

I found myself finding a few small, smooth pebbles to bring home. A couple of days later, I read my friend’s blog which happened to mention two men building a ‘pile of stones’ as a witness to their agreement. Of course the stones, weren’t actually a ‘witness’, they didn’t have Googly Eyes on them, as funny as that would be. But they were symbolic of remembering something. A symbol of something known between them, and seen by God.

I decided to put my new little pile of stones on the kitchen windowsill, to remind me in the midst of my busy life that they were symbolic of what is seen and known between me and God, and because they looked kind of cute. As I took a picture of them, I was struck by what was in the background of the picture; all the other ‘stuff’ on my windowsill and then I took another picture of the windowsill in its own little place in my kitchen. And my brain went into overdrive.

There it all was, my life as a mum, captured in one shot: Piles!

There was a box of plasters, a bottle of Calpol, a Basil plant, a home-made money box in the shape of a heart, a small screw driver for battery replacement, Superglue, a thank you card, Sunflower seeds growing in a 4year old’s painted pot, a home-made lady bird, a small plastic thing which looked important enough to not throw away, a plate of painted pebbles, stained Cricket whites, breakfast bowls, a Minion mug, a dish cloth, antibacterial hand wash, pink paint and a paintbrush. Oh and a giant lemon vase filled with shot glasses, a candle, a sticky man, a dummy, a stretchy exercise band and a home-made candle.

I think I’m quite a visual person, and that helps me teach my kids, about God and what His Bible means for us. The Bible itself often has imagery for us to paint a picture in our minds, although we do need someone who has studied it, to help us get to the writer’s meaning.

From my windowsill, I could teach my little people that God binds up the broken hearted, that he came to heal the sick, that he cares about our money, that he does have the ability to fix our problems, although he may instead work on our heart. Also, that we need replenishing, that God sticks close by us haha, that it’s good to be grateful, lots of things about how He grows us, and creativity. I could teach into the sin & stains in our life, and how Jesus’ death has made us white as snow. Maybe how God feeds us and that we need to feed those who are hungry. Also that Jesus is the light of the world, that He brings us comfort, that there is power in the Spirit. About how we should exercise our giftings and look after our bodies. I would have to stretch the imagery, or use Google as a companion, to bring a teaching point out of the Basil, maybe something about flavour. And as for the Minion, my little people would just keep saying "bottom" and we wouldn't get much further than that.

The home-made stuff is a reminder for me, of how they and I were lovingly made and formed by God, and that what I teach them in this household is what they are made of as they grow up and live their own lives.

“And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise”. Deuteronomy 6v6-7

I’m sure the husband would rather I just tidy it all up, and chuck all the home-made stuff in the bin. Maybe I could take this symbolism even further and give him a really good reason as to why the Tupperware drawer looks like a Bric a Brac table at a Jumble sale.

It's Gone Viral

Every so often, something goes viral. In my house at the moment, it's Chicken Pox. Someone gets it, then it spirals until everyone gets it. There's just no stopping it. 
My daughter was pleased that she caught it from her best friend, so they could be Chicken Pox twins. (That's a real thing, for sure). Then there's the Internet.... People tweet something, someone else shares it on social media, it's talked about, people Youtube it, it's re-shared and it's an instant hit. The best one recently was of course, Professor Robert E Kelly. He was interrupted by his children while he was live on air, in a BBC interview about South Korean politics. 

Everything about the video is brilliant; the sassy way the little girl walks into the room, followed by the expert navigating of a baby in a walker, and then of course the dramatic entrance from the mum....Ninja Mum who had one job, one massive job; 'entertain two kids while dad has his important interview, and do not let them enter the spare bedroom where he is trying to look professional'. 
And it doesn't end there...then comes the scuffle of mum, sassy girl and baby walker leaving the room, in a panicked, crying, flustered, bumpy way, followed by mum's final reach from the ground to close the door.

Hahaha I loved it! I watched it numerous times, feeling dad's embarrassment, and mum's sheer panic. I love how dad takes a breath and closes his eyes, knowing there's nothing he can do, and I love the physical comedy from mum. Why do I love it so much? Because it is so real, and I just feel for them. I presume most parents can relate to them. It's messy. It's not as it should be. It's an honest look into parenting. I feel that the video should be shown to every NCT class...'This is you, trying to get on with your life...and this will be your reality'. 
I think it would do wonders for new parents and their expectations.

Parenting is wonderful. It is a true blessing. But it's hard work. And it interferes with your life. It challenges your heart, your wants, your needs. It tests your patience like nothing else. It makes you question who you are. It makes you realise how selfish you are. At the same time, it makes you realise how you'd give up anything for the little people in your life. It can be painful, embarrassing, confusing, stressful, repetitive and sooooo tiring.

Sometimes you have to stop and remember the wonderful blessing that it is.

The thing about this video is that it is just a 40 second snapshot. Whereas, parenting is a life long deal. The current magnitude of this viral hit, is actually a blink in the timeline of this couple's parenting. Yes it will be a well told one. 'Remember that time dad went viral on the internet?'. But the thing about parenting, is that we hopefully have hours and hours, weeks, months and years. This could be daunting, or it could be encouraging. 

If we got it wrong in the last 5 minutes, we can make it right in the next 5 minutes. If we said things we regret last week, we can say sorry and aim to use words which build up this week. If we felt stressed about that problem last month, we can look at the month ahead with new hope even if the problem hasn't changed. If we're tired and covered in Calamine lotion today, maybe next week it'll all scab over! If the kids interrupted dad on that important BBC interview yesterday, we can laugh about it today. Sometimes our kids may well be interrupting our life, our priorities for the day. But our parenting of them has to be a top priority. We have to let them swing open the door of our lives, and walk confidently in.

There is a passage in the Bible, which talks about there being a "time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;" Ecclesiastes 3v3-4

This is so encouraging for parenting. I sometimes feel like I've got the hang of something to do with my kids, and then they change or it doesn't work with the next child, or it's as if I never had a hang of it at all. And then there will be a huge problem that I have no idea how to handle, but the season changes and I can cope with it better or the child responds well. Or maybe a friend brings perspective, or God's word brings new hope. It's all a mystery this parenting malarkey. But surely we're in it for the long haul, so we go again tomorrow. We accept the fleeting bits as fleeting, and we accept the long haul bits as they are, while showing and receiving God's grace along the way. He after all, is the perfect parent. We're not, and that's OK. 

We can walk into our Father's presence, with all the sass in the world, confidently approaching His throne of Grace and equally we can scramble into His presence in a complete panic. We take time to weep about it all, time to laugh about it all, and we ask God to help us find His strength, His mercy, and His guidance for tomorrow or at least for the next two minutes. 




4 

True Colour

Last Saturday, I took all the kids to see Trolls. My older two just love their little siblings so much, they couldn't bear to be away from them. Mmm, or they just love the cinema, popcorn and sweets, so they were happy to come along. 

It was a great movie and one we will probably buy or rent now it's out on DVD. The four year old obviously loved Pink haired poppy, who was full of sparkle and joy, and musical harmony. What's not to love? She scrap booked with glitter. Needless to say, the songs have been sung daily since, with older brothers joining in. It's like Frozen all over again. You can't quite admit that it was a good film, but you sing along...

One of the things I liked about Poppy was how positive and joyful she was. She always looked for the silver lining, somewhat naively at times, but she believed the best of people, and when she got beat down, she had a higher perspective, and she sung about it. On the way home, I told my kids how Biblical it was. They raised their eyes from the back of the van, I'm sure. 

God doesn't ask us to be positive all the time. In fact, He encourages us to cry out to Him, to be real with Him, even if that means we're angry. But He does ask us to bear with one another, which means He must realise we have a tendency to bug each other. And He does ask us to "Rejoice always", and to "think about whatever is true, honourable, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, just and worthy of praise". Poppy fills her mind with the best thoughts about the other trolls and the circumstances she finds herself in. 

During one comical scene where she pretty much nearly gets eaten by every imaginable creature, she is looking pretty rough and beaten, and she is trying to still sing and still have a smile on her face. Sometimes we do that. Someone might ask us how we are doing, and we put a brave smile on and usually say we're fine, rather than be honest with our struggles. If we are to 'bear one another's burdens', we could probably do better at letting them know what our burdens actually are.

The best bit for me, as it was probably written to be, was just after Poppy loses all her colour and the desire to sing, because she has accepted sadness and defeat. At this point she is encouraged by a friend, who understands her. He gets her to lift her gaze, from the darkness inside, and reminds her of the true colour she has within her. It's a lovely moment of friendship. Helped even more by the voice of Justin Timberlake.

Recently a friend at church, who is very different to me, in loudness and chattiness, gently encouraged me to be who I am meant to be. She literally lifted my gaze, and spoke such truth to me that it honestly returned my colour. 

"Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing". 
1 Thessalonians 5v11

As with singing 'Let it Go', when arguments happen in our house, we now seem to be singing 'True Colour' to one another. Sometimes I watch one of my kids lose their colour, and as their mum, I want their colour to return brighter than ever, so of course I encourage them. I try to get them to see God's purpose for their life, to lift their gaze. I may even sing to them, (which sometimes tips them over the edge). But sometimes I just have to hand them over to God and ask His colour to shine brightly in their hearts. His truth. His love, His joy to make the difference.

How can you encourage your children today? Have you told them what makes them full of colour? What about a friend? A spouse? A work colleague? Or even a complete stranger?Don't wait until they lose their colour to encourage them, go sing at them, and throw glitter at them. (I cannot be held responsible for the throwing of glitter at random strangers).

Half-Term Thank You Notes

Thank you Asda,

 for reducing the big bottle of gin at the start of half term.

Thank you friends,

 who invited my children over for playdates.

Thank you more,

to those who offered sleepovers. 

Thank you Kingsmill,

for two loaves of bread for £1.50

Thank you Asda,

for rolling back the family bottle of nit cream.

Thank you Movies for Juniors at Cineworld,

for making it affordable to take 

all 6 kids to the cinema.

Thank you sister in law,

for an excuse to eat Chinese take away.

Thank you Netflix,

for running endless episodes of 

Alvin & The Chipmunks.

Thank posh hotels,

for Sweet Potato fries while blog writing.

Thank you son,

for turning 13, and making me proud.

Thank you husband,

for love and support, 

mixed in with complete humorous despair.

Thank you friends,

for making me laugh 

and asking the tough questions. 

Thank you couple at church,

for paying for my boys' sock restock.

Thank you Asda bakery,

for providing 12 doughnuts for £2.50.

Thank you friend with 5 kids,

for helping us demolish them.

Thank you eBay,

for taking saved pocket money 

as payment for Lego minifigures.

Thank you Ashton Kutcher,

for wanting to put an end to sex trafficking.

Thank you Mod Pizza,

for a reasonable night out for a family of eight.

Thank you Lemsip,

for being a comfort to many.

Thank you cashier at Asda,

for wishing me 'Good Luck' as I shopped with 4.

Thank you WhatsApp,

for sending me newborn baby photos this week.

Thank you mother in law,

for sharing your 60th over 

Afternoon Tea.

Thank you reduced aisle at Asda,

for providing interesting meals and 

cheap cereal.

Thank you Facebook, 

for wasting hours of my life and for friendship connections.

Thank you Brick x Brick man,

for providing safe 

Youtube Lego videos.

Thank you safe 

Youtube Lego videos,

for providing me peace and quiet.

Thank you other mums,

for sharing your wins and losses, and making me feel normal.

Thank you melted cheese on anything,

for making dinner a moan-free, everything-eaten experience.

Thank you inspirational people,

for making me want to dream bigger.

Thank you dishwasher,

for your support and faithfulness.

Thank you Lego Batman,

for Butt jokes which made me lol.

Thank you husband,

for spreadsheets and budgets 

which enable us to save.

Thank you babysitters,

who keep coming back!

Thank you uncles,

for treating the teenager 

and shaping him.

Thank you kids, 

for not arguing with each other when you are asleep.

Thank you children,

for praying for me after I shouted at you.

Thank you creatives,

for drawing all over your Bibles.

Thank you kids,

for playing in the garden long enough for me to do a Bible study.

Thank you Double-Glazing,

for allowing me to not hear my kids in the garden.

Thank you Bible study,

for reminding me that my worth to God

never changes.

Thank you God,

that I cannot add to my worth, 

or take away from it.

Thank you Father,

for all of the above, for your abundant blessings.

"Give thanks in all circumstances,

for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus".

1 Thessalonians 5v18

Caffeine & Prosecco

Sometimes as a mum, you simply rock. 

A couple of weeks ago, I vocally expressed my annoyance at the cup rolling, cup flicking and cup spinning at the dinner table. In an attempt to make my point, I dramatically threw a plastic cup away from the dinner table, and asked if it was okay to do such a thing? 
But the cup landed upright in a box at the other end of the kitchen. And to four bottle-flipping boys, this was an epic mum moment. I completely failed to make my point, but the kids thought I was cool. And a win is a win. I'll take that.

Sometimes as a mum, you completely suck.
Maybe the nagging of four young men; the husband has to tell me when they've glazed over. They just need simple sentences, not a monologue which includes my feelings. Or maybe when the whole street hears me shout the infamous, "stop shouting at each other". Or maybe when I'm on my phone too much. It's a varied list, which always brings out the Mummy Guilt.

Sometimes as a mum, you just survive.

The hero that is Bear Grylls, he might teach you how to survive in the wild. But that's nothing compared to the sheer grit of Mother Survival.  Bear shows you how to drink your own wee if you're desperately dehydrated, but the sleep-deprived mother would probably drink it too, if it had even a shot of Caffeine (or Prosecco) in it. 

Bear teaches you coping mechanisms for strenuous circumstances, like when you're stuck out in the wild, on your own, with no-one nearby. Wait a minute, that doesn't sound strenuous, that sounds delightful. Just me and nature. Alone. In the quiet. Well yeah I could survive that. In fact sometimes I try and get myself stuck at Asda on my own for a little while, or I try to get stuck in the van on my own for a little while. Or just in the loo on my own... Haha that's not even a real thing!

Bear wants to come and survive dinner-time at my house. Now that's a strenuous circumstance; six or more kids at the table, the extroverts downloading about their day, fighting for an attentive ear, the quieter ones communicating via specific eye movements which you daren't miss, the spilling of water and the throwing (and landing) of cups and cutlery at each other, with the prospect of Homework and chores looming. You couldn't just light a fire in those kind of conditions, it'd send them wild(er).

Or what about surviving the post breakfast table; the bit just before the school run, when school shoes are handed to you with huge holes in the toe. And the PE kit which can't be found, and apparently it hasn't been found for weeks, but this is the morning it is needed. Oh and the homework that wasn't done which needs to be, or it was done, but now it lives in an unknown world full of PE kits. Meanwhile a philosophical question may be thrown your way, or one about sex, or Noah, or advice might be needed on a friendship issue, or sudden tears just because....and usually the milk hasn't got a lid on it, but it's out of your reach...a mum spots that kind of danger a mile off.


And Bear could take a tip out of any mother's advice book if he needed concrete for some reason. Look no further than 'dried on Weetabix'.

There's the survival technique needed for the mental torture of a fully dressed child, being back to naked again. Why? What possible reason do they have? And they think you actually want to hear their reason....
Or surviving the unknown; the child who puts their finger in your face, with a brown sticky substance on it. And you know you should just wipe it, but a mum doesn't, a mum sniffs it. She always sniffs it, even though she should know better. The sniff is to see what level of intervention is needed. Does it need a lick, a wipe, or antibacterial gel? And what if the wet wipe packet is empty? That one empty packet can sometimes be the tipping point for even the most seasoned of mothers. And the wisest of children will walk away at this moment....walk far away.

For nearly 13 years I have been mothering now. That's just over 4700 days. 113880 hours. And like I said, some days/hours I rock, some days/hours I suck and some days/hours I just survive. And that's okay. A favourite Bible verse in our house is 1 Corinthians 10v31, "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God". Or maybe I could paraphrase it, 'whether you rock, or suck or survive, do it all for the glory of God'. 

When I rock, I'm to give God thanks that He helped me rock. When I suck, I'm to say sorry and ask for God's and my kids' forgiveness. And when I'm just surviving, I'm to ask God to sustain me. 

To quote Bear Grylls, "I do not want to reach the end of my life in a perfectly preserved body. I want to come flying in sideways, covered in scars, beaten up and screaming: Yahoo! What a ride!"
That sounds a lot like motherhood to me...

When four of them have finally gone off to school, I venture upstairs with a toddling companion, to see what survival techniques are needed up there. A most relied upon and tested method is closing the door to whichever room I've come across, and slowly breathing in through the nose, out from the mouth. A technique I learnt in labour, but with less Gas & Air, more Caffeine and Prosecco.

(NB This blog post was started on November 10th 2016. That is what 'surviving' looks like for a blogging mum).

From One Princess to Another

A year ago today I blogged about a letter I sent to my second favourite Royal - Princess Catherine. I asked her if she wanted to be interviewed for the ol' Pink Toothbrush, and I think as much as she wanted to, protocol caused her to decline my offer. Apparently, "it would be unfair to single out a few (replies)". Personally, I don't think it would be unfair, (for me anyway) and in our house we don't even do fair! But as much as The Duchess of Cambridge probably wants to be my BFF, she has to be seen to love everyone equally. And I respect her for that, nearly as much as I respect her immaculate hair and outfit choices.

In my letter I asked her what colour her toothbrush was, as well as what it's like to raise a Royal, because not many of my other friends are having that kind of experience. We may be raising many things, but an heir to the throne isn't one of them. Can you imagine the pressure? It's hard enough getting them to sit still, fully clothed, in a restaurant, let alone meet diplomats from another country. There was a recent picture of dear old Kate, giving little George what looked like 'one of those chats'. Oh, how I felt for the woman. I've given that look, the 'gritted teeth, make everything look totally under control look'. And it just made me love her a little bit more. We are with you Katherine. Cue dramatic music and Katniss Evergreen salute!

The thing with us mums, is that in some way or another we're all the same. Maybe completely different stories, backgrounds, views, parenting styles etc, but there's a certain something that unites us on our mothering journey. And I don't just mean that completely knackered look we have, or the wine we may consume, or the dried-on, unknown substance we wear on our sleeve. I mean something of depth and significance. 
We are raising, nurturing, training the next generation. How they deal with life, and what it throws their way, how they deal with each other is largely down to what we put in. That's an intimidating thought, but also one of excitement and challenge. Some days, I'm happy if mine are just fed and the majority of them are clothed, but there are other days where I want to input so much more. Where I know I have truth to stand them in, mercy to show them and unconditional love for them to relish in.

I actually disagree with my own earlier point. I said I didn't know of anyone raising a Royal. You see, If I am loved by the King of Kings, if He says I can called Him 'Father', then that makes me His daughter, and that makes not only myself an heir to the throne, but my kids must be too. 

Romans 8v14-17 spells it out for us..."For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons (and daughters) of God.  For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him."

Not everything in that verse is easy to understand, but the gist says that we are not slaves, living a life of fear, but we are God's kids. That's how He loves me, and it's also how He loves my children too, and that love is also available to my mum friends who don't even know of God and His abounding love. I don't always feel like an heir to God's throne. Some days I feel like I'm not even worthy to clean the throne, let alone be the one who gets to approach it. But those are the days where I need to fall on the truth that I am indeed a daughter of the King, rather than wait for my feelings to catch up. 
So unfortunately no,  I haven't got Princess Catherine's inside view on raising an heir to the throne. But I have got my own view, the Bible's view on raising an heir to a throne that will last forever. And it's not easy. But thankfully my Heavenly Father never has to grit His teeth with me, and He is actually completely in control.