Snuggly Cuddles / Loss Awareness week

I am currently reading through all my past blog posts, in order to edit them into some kind of book format, which is kind of exciting. It's been a trip down memory lane. I started the blog when I just had the four boys, hence the name, 'One Pink Toothbrush'. (Now there is every shade of pink imaginable in our household, with glitter and unicorns attached). It's been good to remember the crazy, messy, boisterous, energetic stories from the past. 

One story I found, took me by surprise a little, as it's one I never posted. Just wasn't the right time, right place, right anything. But it's Baby Loss Awareness week, and so maybe it will bring someone comfort this week, or at least a place to acknowledge her own loss.
I didn't get to meet the latest baby in this one, but I did go on to have another, and for her, 
I am truly grateful.

I find myself 6 weeks pregnant and I decided at precisely 1:09am that tonight was the night that my other baby, (the 17month old) would not have night time feeds anymore. Good decision Mumma Bear. Solid! You can do this. I do love our night time feeds though... Everyone tells you how little sleep you'll get with a baby, or a subsequent baby, or a subsequent subsequent baby. People do love a doom & gloom moment to share; maybe it's to warn you, to prep you, but nothing quite prepares your mind or body for it anyway. But people should also share those golden moments, in the sleep deprivation haze, those little golden moments, where it's quiet and you get to snuggle them, and it's just you and them.

Every night between 1 and 3am, my baby girl makes that sad little whimper. I stir and mechanically wander downstairs. I wash up a bottle I find on the sofa, (she's 5th kid in, that changes things). I pour milk in the bottle, I microwave it, I drink out of it and I zombie walk back up to her room. I pick her up, and her dummy, and her other dummy, and her Woof Woof and her Bunny and anything else she sleepily points at. Off we all go and sit on the edge of my bed, having a cuddly feed. 

Some days, I try to make my eyes focus enough to read scripture. Most other days, I try to make my eyes focus enough to read status updates. It only takes a few minutes, then it's dummy in, hoist her onto my shoulder, gather her paraphernalia in my arms, carry her back into her room, lay her down in her cot, and she peacefully goes off to sleep, content and happy. And with a smug sense of maternal achievement, I do the same.

But tonight, I realised... well I've known for a while... that she really probably shouldn't still be having a bottle of milk, in the middle of the night, every single night, at her age. I've used the 'teething' excuse, the 'having a cold' excuse, the 'hungry' excuse, and the 'unsettled' excuse for long enough now. When the reality is, I just like our snuggly sleepy cuddles. And that's ok. Afterall, she is my last baby. But I do seem to be 6 weeks pregnant, with this latest last baby.... But it has made me realise that in a few months time, I really only want to be doing night time feeds for one of my babies, not multiple.

So I decided at 1:09am that I would go cold turkey with her. I have offered her water and various dummies. I have cuddled Woof Woof into her. I have covered her up and said 'Goodnight'. She is of course, screaming the house down. That was 27minutes ago. Now she's doing the guilt whimper; the "I thought you loved me" whimper, the "I miss my mummy" whimper. Oh she's good! I'm sitting here holding her water and a bottle of milk, wondering when I will cave in and pick her and woof woof and bunny up and put the whole house back to its peaceful state with our snugly cuddle. 

Do I let her cry it out or do I go and give her the one thing which will make us both feel better? Tears or sleep? Screams or sleep? Awake or sleep? My instinct says, "go for the sleep option, you might never sleep again". But then I know the day will come when either I'm feeding both babies in the middle of the night or just one. I can hear another child stirring, which is one of my other excuses for keeping up the night feeds. No mum wants more than one child awake at any given time during the night. 

Maybe I'll pray, one of those incoherent slurry prayers, where only God knows what I'm saying. I'll ask God for guilt free snugly cuddles or the grace I need to see this through.

An hour and a half in, since we started 'Operation no sleep tonight'. Look at me, holding out! She's going with the cute "mama" guilt ploy. She sounds so cute. I have picked her up and offered her the water again. We repeated the screaming phase, as soon as she realised there was no warm milk on offer. She's so fickle. The husband rolled over and said something which sounded like 'Well Done'. I asked him if I should just give her the milk and he said he didn't know, which has thrown me. That's so unlike him. He's usually the best at this bit, quite focused when it comes to letting them cry it out, but tonight he wants sleep too. He's been doing this for years. Yes we know it wont take long really, once we break their night milk habits...but tonight has already taken years and it's only 3am. I take his 'Well Done' as 'Keep going', and I hold out. She's whimpering now. 
My cute baby girl. Maybe she's teething or she's got a cold or she's hungry....

Morning did come round, as did the dark circles under my eyes. My baby girl loved me just as much the next day, and loved her morning milk even more. It took three nights, that's all. Three nights for her to realise she wasn't starving hungry, and could actually sleep through. Three nights for me to realise that 17 months was quite a long time to be getting up for our snuggly cuddles. I shall enjoy my relatively undisturbed sleep, until the heartburn and wees of Baby number six comes into play.

The little one in this blog post didn't make it. I don't know why. I don't think there's always reasons for these moments, or understanding. I remember the heartache and the physical pain. I remember sharing tears with the husband, and with my mum over the phone. 

I remember the box of 'loss' leaflets, propping open the door in the waiting room. I remember thinking that was insensitive. I remember the scan and not much being said. What was there to say? I remember feeling that she was a girl. I remember being fine. And I remember remembering. I am comforted to know that she went straight to meet her Father in Heaven; bypassed this world and got to be cuddled by the one who loves her more than I ever could. She never had tears, never had to whimper, just went straight to where there is no pain, no battle-ground milk feeds and always peace. I'll meet her one day and enjoy a snuggly cuddle I'm sure. 

"The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit".

Psalm 34v17-18

#success

What does it look like, for a mum to succeed?

Maybe it’s looking like you’re never in need.

What does it look like, for a mum to succeed?

Is it accepting that help is what you do indeed need?

We look to the left, we look to the right,

Maybe I'm doing it wrong, and that mum is right?!

Or I’m the one nailing it, I judge, ‘what is she doing’?

She’s different to me, that shouldn’t be my undoing.

Maybe she’s thinking the same of herself.

Maybe she’s judging my health or my wealth.

Maybe you see a mum at the cafe,

She looks altogether, and her kids seem happy.

Who knows inside, if she’s feeling crappy.

And despairing of the imminent change of that nappy.

She does it that way, and I do it this…

Organised or spontaneously, we got through some kind of list

But we all end the day with our little ones kissed.

Some bits we got right, and some we just missed.

She had time to walk, she didn’t have time to breath

She had to book an appointment, she had to leave

She went for organic, with a spoon made of Bamboo

She sent a kid to school with only one shoe

Motherhood, it comes naturally to her,

Whereas for that mum, it's all just a blur.

She's got loads of kids, and her only one.

She's quite strict, whereas she's creative and fun.

She stays at home, and she works elsewhere,

Both mums here, are equal in care

Their little ones know that mum is trying

Their little ones maybe have seen mum crying

Crying with laughter because the kids are just funny

Crying with mental health struggles or money

Crying because its a lot to hold onto

Crying in relief because a cry was just due

She home schools, while she battles on the phone, 

She talks it out with anyone, whereas she does it alone

She speaks to a school, bangs her head on a wall

While she makes it up and feels like a fool.

They’re both in need of peace and rest

They’re both just trying to do their best

The problem with success is we look to the side,

To see if we’re better or worse, that’s our guide

Yet our eyes should be lifted, our hearts set above,

To see success was already achieved in love.

Christ is seated, He has sat down. It’s done.

A concept not known well of, to the busy mum.

What would it look like to just stop and sit?

Is anything actually finished? Is this really it?

But Christ is seated because what He came here to do,

He has indeed done, for me and for you.

Our life is hidden with Him, so what does it matter?

Why do we get bogged down with the matter?

God's grace is sufficient, His mercy is new

His faithfulness is unchanging, His goodness pursues you!

We need to have each other's backs

Us mums, we need to give where there is lack

An encouraging word, a nod, a smile,

A gift, or wine, even babysit for a while.

We need to look at our load through a new lens,

Reject some lies here and there and then,

Set our minds on Christ. Who are we, in Him?

Which should cause us to glow brightly, not be so dim

Dim with the lights out, cos we’re heavy and tired

Or dim cos we’re taking the glory from where it should be wired

It’s not about us, how well we are doing

It’s all for Him, that’s what we’re pursuing.

The Mother simply has a lot to do,

And questioning her actions isn’t anything new

Questioning our own worth is thrown in there too

Not forgetting to wonder, Help. What do I actually do?

How do I do it? What does he need?

Will she turn out alright; a hopeful plead...

How long does it take you to learn to read?

Have I done enough? Did I succeed?

Yet our biggest mistake is not what they ate

Not what we said, or if they got to school late.

It’s doing all the matter, in our own strength

While holding our maker way out at arm’s length.

Not abiding in Christ, Not abiding in Him

Not reading His word and hearing Him sing

And not stopping to listen to what He has to say

He says, “Fear not, this is the Lord’s day”.

“I am with you, to the ends of the Earth”.

“I never forget sparrows”, I know your worth.

“I am sat at my Father’s right hand”.

I’ve got you, and your beloved all in hand.

"My grace is sufficient, My mercy is new

My faithfulness is unchanging, My

goodness pursues you!

"Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God". Colossians 3v1-3

Passport Control

Yesterday I lost my passport, well technically that's not true. Yesterday I realised I didn't know where my passport was, so it may well have been lost before yesterday, but I was blissfully unaware of this fact. I'm hoping the husband doesn't read this blog post, because of course he has a designated place for the passports, and when they're finished with, you're meant to put them back in that same place. 

This is called a system, and the system prevents stress and error. This does sound like a wise way of doing life. Then you would know where things were, the next time you needed them; a life skill I've yet to learn in 41 years. My poor husband.

I had used my passport as a form of ID, and instead of returning it back to the designated place, I kept it loosely secure in my bag, with the wipes and various McDonalds toys. That same bag came camping with me, to a recent Youth camp with 7000 people. At this point, you could say that the passport's safety was a little out of control. I was pretty convinced that when we had returned, I had tipped the contents of the bag onto the kitchen table, in search of some pound coins at the bottom of the bag, which ideally should be kept in the my purse...

So I looked on the kitchen table and I looked on the trolley (the unofficial designated holding area for when the table needs clearing) and all there was, was a couple of Snoopy McDonalds toys, an empty purse and a packet of wipes. (We're out of the nappy stage, but no parent is ever out of the wet wipe stage).

So the panic started to set in. "No, no no no no....where are you?" I looked in the bag, I looked on the table, I looked on the trolley. I looked in the bag. I looked on the table. I looked on the trolley. I remembered that quote, "the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results". So I looked in the bag again. I looked on the table again. I looked on the trolley again. I rubbed my head a lot. "No, no no no no". I repeated this cycle for quite a while. 

I remembered one bag which wasn't yet unpacked from the Youth camp. I ran upstairs and emptied the Calpol, the plasters, the wasp spray, the suncream, the wipes...nothing. 

The tears started to form. And the "please help me" prayers started. Quite frantic mumbling. Then the crazy kicked in; I looked in my wardrobe which of course it wouldn't be in. I looked in the bin, which of course it wouldn't be in. I looked in my sock drawer, which of course it wouldn't be in. I looked on the windowsill, which of course it wouldn't be on. I looked in my make up drawer, which of course it wouldn't be in. And there it was. I must have put it there to keep it safe!! (System error)

I cuddled that passport and cried. "Thank you, thank you, thank you", followed by the realisation that I hadn't chatted with God for a while. I had prayed for other people, but I hadn't chatted with Him, and now I was only calling on Him because I needed His help.  He's totally fine with me needing His help. He's the great Helper, Rescuer, Restorer, Saviour. It's only with His help that I can be saved for eternity and not live in the guilt and shame of my wrong doing. But He wants even more for me than that. Even more than that life-saving Help. He wants me to live abundantly, in relationship with Him. And that requires more than just the 'Help me' prayers, even if they are my most consistent prayers.

I said sorry, and with the relief of the passport being found, I found relief in admitting that I had felt a bit lost lately too. Sometimes you have to get to the point of realising something is helplessly lost, in order to realise it needs to be found. Not spending time with the one who loves me the most, the one who understands me the most, the one who cares for me the most, is always going to have an effect on me. Sometimes that effect isn't seen or felt straight away, which gives me the false impression that I'm doing fine on my own, that I know where I am, blissfully unaware of the drift... but actually it just means I'm getting lost, and that's not blissful at all.

My passport is back with all the other passports. It's safe. It's home. The system error has been rectified. And I am reminded again that my errors have all been forgiven. I am secure, safe and easily found in my Father's house, in His presence, in His company, in His love. That is my designated place. 

"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; 

I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand".

Isaiah 41v10

"For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”
Luke 19v10

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

My daughter came home last week, and told me how I am killing all the sea turtles. I think she meant 'universally as people', but it came across as an accusation. For the record, I have never intentionally hurt a turtle. She explained that some turtles eat Jelly Fish, and if they find a carrier bag in the sea, they think it's a Jelly Fish, they eat it and then they get poorly and die! She spoke to me about all the plastic in the sea, and how there will be more plastic than fish soon! She had even learnt a song about it all. 

She had a school trip to the Sea Life Centre and got to see a turtle up close, which just added to her passion and accusation. Incidentally, I instagrammed a photo of the 13 plastic toothbrushes in use in our house, including some pink toothbrushes of course, with a question as to how many people actually lived here, and a friend of mine messaged me to tell me I was a turtle killer too. Mmm.... a recurring theme to the week! 

No one wants the title of turtle killer. I'm not Shredder!

So, I decided to listen to my daughter, not just listen to her, but actively show her that I was listening, that she had a voice, and that she can help to make changes. 

And of course, I used it as a teaching point, like most moments in life. 

I explained to her that in Genesis, Adam and Eve were commissioned to look after the Earth, and that she was fulfilling that commission, by wanting to take care of the sea and the turtles.

"The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it". Genesis 2v15

I ordered some Bamboo toothbrushes on line, and when they came, I explained to the whole family that we were making some changes, starting with toothbrushes, because of something their sister is passionate about. I had another hurdle to get over, because she was concerned that I was taking the Bamboo away from the pandas! But we swerved that one, with an explanation about sustainable growth! 

I spoke to the family about the following verse;

"Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity". 1 Timothy4v12

Now actually this verse is about being an example to other Christians in how you act and speak, even if you're younger than the people you're being an example to. So I made that point, whilst practically using my daughter's new found education, and passion as an example about being an example. She had indeed found her own teaching point to bring to us. She also told me I shouldn't drive my car, I shouldn't buy one-use plastic water bottles, and I should put as much as I can in the black bin. I can only imagine she will find some more things to educate me on this week. Part of me is of course proud of her, and the other part of me wants to hide from her as she finds more teaching points to bring us. 

Maybe I'll build myself a a little house from the contents of the black bin!

Interview with Sally Lloyd-Jones (Jesus StoryBook Bible Author)

Over the years, The Jesus Story Book Bible has been read many times in our house. It has helped my children to have a better grasp of God’s word; understanding that God’s unbreakable, never stopping, never giving up love for them is forever. It has helped them see where they fit into God’s story, rather than where God fits into their story. It has encouraged them, by explaining that Jesus is on a rescue mission to save everyone who will respond to His offer of love, and it has made them see that every story in the Bible points to Jesus. It has also been one of the tools which has helped lead some of my children to have a personal relationship with Jesus.

And as a mother, just for me, The Jesus Storybook has blessed me greatly. The early years of motherhood are just exhausting, and sometimes reading the Bible feels hard. There have been many times, when reading the JSBB to my own kids, that I have been touched by God’s message of love for me. When I haven’t had much in the tank, when I haven’t had anything else to give out, I have felt joy and peace that I am part of God’s story, rather than trying to fit Him into mine.

Recently, I have set myself the challenge of recreating the stories as edible ones. Some have been hilarious, and some have turned out quite nicely, with a couple made by a much more creative friend. I want to keep engaging my children in God’s word, so food seemed the next natural choice.

I recently interviewed Sally Lloyd-Jones the author of The Jesus Storybook Bible, about the book itself. Please have a read….

I'd love to know when and how you became a Christian?

When I was four; my dad shared the story with me.

How did you come to write The Jesus Storybook Bible?
I wanted children to know what I didn’t know as a child - that the Bible isn’t a book of rules I’m supposed to be keeping, in order for God to love me. I knew I wasn’t keeping those rules so I had this idea that God wasn’t very pleased with me. I want children to know that the Bible isn’t mainly about them and what they’re supposed to be doing. It’s about God and what He has done. It’s the story of how God loves his children and comes to rescue them.

Did you know it would be such a big hit?
None of us knew it would be the hit that it is. I am so grateful. I’m also very clear who the author of the book’s success is.

How many copies have been sold, and in how many languages?

3 million copies, and in 46 languages.

What’s the newest language?

It’s just out in Arabic and Icelandic—and Khmer is just about to be translated.

Why do you think it has been such a such a success,
(apart from of course, that "all scripture is God-breathed". 2Tim3v16)

I wonder if part of the reason is that it’s written in the lyrical language of a father’s love for His children, and we are all children of God. It breaks through the walls we as adults have up, and ambushes us. Also it captures in one sitting, the entire plot line of the Bible.

How did you get it from Bible to Storybook in such a beautiful way?

You have to do the hard work of understanding the theology so you can make it simple, distil it. Also you have to always write what is true. Another thing, if you have a choice choose what moves you. The story had to move me first before I could write it in a way that would move the reader. “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.” (Robert Frost)

Do you have a favourite story from The Jesus Storybook Bible?

When you ask children to choose their favourites, they say they’re all their favourites, so I’m going with that. But when I read to children and ask them if they have any requests, they often choose ‘The day the sun couldn’t shine: the story of the crucifixion’. Children know what they’re talking about. They cut to the chase. They know that’s the crux of the matter; the heart of the whole story. We have so much to learn from children!

And for my own ego, which edible story from my Instagram account did you enjoy the most?

THE CRICKETS! Haha! That was one of your best I have to say!!!

You’re best known for creating The Jesus Storybook Bible, do you ever get fed up of that?

No I’m so grateful. It’s a huge honor and blessing. At the same time, I also want people to know about my other books, because they are filled with His love too. And children need all kinds of stories. Because stories are powerful.

What are you currently working on?

A picture book, a devotional, and a novel for middle graders.

What blessings have come your way, as a result of writing?

Too many to say, but one of the blessings is meeting children. And also adults, as I travel all over the world to speak about the power of story and the dignity of children.

You went to the States for a year, and you’re still there, many tears later. Do you think you'll stay in the States forever?

I don’t know the answer to that question. I’m here as long as God has me here.

Do you miss anything about England?

Lots of things; family, friends, the countryside, London, the tea, the walks, the footpaths, English country gardens, and the National Trust properties. I do get back there a lot.

Do you have any advice for writers?

Three quick things; Write the story that only you can write. Read BIRD BY BIRD by Anne Lamott. And if you’re really serious about writing for children, learn the business and one of the best ways to do that is to join Scbwi.org

And any advice for knackered mums?

Show up. Even if it’s for 5 minutes a day. Keep showing up.

Rock And Roll

We had a lovely holiday in Mevagissy, Cornwall over the Easter break. There were six adults and twelve children. We ate lots of nice food; pasties, ice cream, G&Ts. We searched for crabs and Easter eggs. We met new people. We watched Cbeebies and films. We watched the waves splashing up to our house in a storm. We discovered half a porpoise, from said storm. A couple of adventurous lads attempted a cold night in a tent. Some of us went in the sea; paddle boarding, body boarding, and kayaking. We went for hikes and walks. 

One of the walks was to Chapel Point. It was extremely windy, and a little on the cold side. One of those 'good for the soul walks', or at least that's what we kept saying to the kids, who ranged from running freely, walking half-heartedly, to asking for piggy backs, or being fast asleep. I remember as a kid asking what the point of walks were; you just walk to a place, and then walk home again! But as an adult, I see the benefit of the fresh air, the beauty of nature, the breathtaking views, the chats and wonderings, the legwork and the 'just because' element. 

As we left for the return walk, my eldest daughter (6) and my friend's eldest daughter (7) decided they wanted to carry a huge rock back with them the 1.3miles. They took a liking to the rock, because it looked like a massive piece of discarded chewing gum, and that was a good enough reason to carry it home. They took it in turns carrying the rock individually, or attempting to carry it together. At the top of the hill, it was suggested to them that they could indeed leave it at the top, as they had done well to carry it that far. The girls thought about it, but decided that they were up for the challenge, and said they were even enjoying the challenge. So on they carried it, slowly but surely.

I knew it was a blog post waiting to happen, but couldn't decide what angle I'd look at it from. I discussed it with the girls as we walked, and they reminded me about Moses striking a rock and water coming out of it. Good point and not the first one I would have thought of. Eventually the three of us caught up with the others who had waited for us. We were apparently taking a long time. Rocks are heavy after all. 

We had a group discussion on rock based imagery; God is the unchangeable rock, if we were to stand on that rock, we would have a solid support under us. The reason we're not to fear or dismay is because of the supporting, unchanging support empowering us to fulfil that command; God is with us, He is for us, helping us, strengthening us and upholding us. What a rock He is! Building a house on that rock would be a more secure foundation than building a house on the sand. The girls liked that one, a solid Sunday School moment. Jesus carries our burdens for us, that's a good one that we often forget, and we try to take them back, to carry those burdens ourselves.

My friend Yohaan, suggested that the girls carrying the rock was like the time and effort we waste on useless things that hold us back from reaching our destination. A very valid point, and not my usual lighthearted style, but poignant to remember indeed. The time and effort I waste on my phone definitely holds me back, and yesterday I had a realisation that I probably put more time and effort into more sleep, than into praying, so that needs to change.

But I think I liked the girls' sheer determination. They made a decision right at the beginning, and when it was tough, they didn't waver from the decision they had made. They persevered, when the easier option was to give up. When the Bible talks about perseverance, the word hope often follows. As Christians, we persevere in the tough times because we have hope. Whether we feel hopeful or not, does not change the fact and the truth that we do have hope. We have hope because of what Jesus has done for us, and because of what the Holy Spirit is continuing to do in, through and for us. 

God made a decision at the beginning of creation, a decision to rescue this world from sin, a decision which would cause Him His greatest heartache and His greatest Joy at the same time; to give up His beloved son in the place of sinners, in my place. He never wavered from that decision, and I'm grateful for what that means for me, and for my kids, and for anyone who wants to put their trust in Him, who wants to put their trust in the Rock of Ages.

"And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us". Romans 5v2-5