Parenting

How We Love Being Rested {vlog}

sleep

We have four children therefore we are always tired. (I wonder if the amount of possible sleep lessens with each kid or if we were to keep adding a few if it wouldn’t really make much of a difference) It’s always so easy to understand why I have a hard time loving my life when I have gotten a great stretch of sleep: duh? I’m exhausted!

Today I really enjoyed a nice lazy morning with the hubby hub hubs. {I even got him in on the vlog – and yes I did pay up for the bribe right after I turned off the camera}

Wow. This morning was so nice. I was happy all day long not just because I was rested but because I started my morning doing the one thing that I love and miss: SLEEPING. I cannot ever get enough sleep. I truthfully would live my life to the fullest and be the most happy and productive if I could get 12 hours a night preferably between the hours of midnight and noon. (It’s my life goal to someday live up to the scripture about being early to bed and early to rise)

It’s always nice to sleep cuddled up with the hubby and he is the BEST about letting me tuck my right knee up into his right ribcage (I sleep on the tummy and he sleeps on his back) and warm my toes in between his massive calf muscles.  In the winter LG serves as the best electric blanket ever. He’s hotter than Jacob the warewolf, but truthfully I actually sleep better without him in the bed. He snores sometimes (o.k. 80% of the time) and I love LOVE love having the whole bed to stretch out in and taking all the blankets for myself.

So in my optimal world I guess I would just require 10 hours of sleep with an hour before and after the actual sleeping for cuddling time with my man. (or whatever else the cuddling may or may not lead to)

Aren’t Fred and George Weasley from Harry Potter the best characters of all time. I want twin boys and I want to name them Fred and George. No joke. Talk about not getting any sleep.

I guess I am just a tramp in a bike helmet

Still learning over here.
This morning’s installment in the learn to love being a mom project:
I guess I am just a tramp in a bike helmet.
Do give me a moment to explain.

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Yesterday I couldn’t force myself out on my run. I had a list of things to be done and couldn’t shake them. Still aware of how much happier I am when I get some exercise (which is easiest to do while Caroline is at pre-school) I jumped on my bike. I had gone an hour earlier in the car to try and pick up a gift certificate for teacher appreciation day and the establishment wasn’t open. I wouldn’t have enough time to run there and back but I could certainly do it on my bike in time to do the preK pick up.

As I rode home as fast as I could with the secured gift certificate in my bike basket and my headphones blaring the Glee Pandora station (it’s a happy place – appropriately titled Glee) I had to risk being squashed by the speeding traffic or plow through some malfunctioning sprinklers watering the sidewalk. I plowed through the sprinklers. As I emerged out from under the water cruising about 10 miles an hour I got an extreme sense of euphoria. I can’t even explain it. All I knew is that in that moment

I WAS FREE.

As I pondered how I wanted to feel that way all of the time, I realized why motherhood is so hard on me: there is very little freedom in motherhood. In fact, it is the most all-consuming job ever known to mankind. No wonder I feel so trapped: I am a free spirit. I just want to be free. Other “not as conscientious” mothers may neglect their children in search of their own freedom. Not just  OTHER moms, all of us moms probably do that from time to time, I know I do. I know many moms who are always out for their own entertainment to the detriment of their children. I don’t want to be that kind of mom, and so I remain in a conundrum between being a good mom and having my greatest desire of freedom.

I will be exploring solutions on how I can achieve these two important elements in my life simultaneously. One way I do know works is to involve my kids in the free experiences. My favorite memories are when I am being free WITH my family: bike rides, camping trips, Disneyland, ocean visits, silly string fights, mud slinging, dancing in the rain, star gazing, and hiking. I guess that is why I am such a playful mom.

Note to self: PLAY more. PLAY always. It will make you happy.

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Oh yeah, the tramp reference. All morning long while thinking of this post I have been singing to myself.

She loves the free fresh wind in her hair. Life without care.

LG is going to like this.

What do I need?

urinetown

Wow, it’s been a really difficult 7 days. LG and I had a little bit of a tiff on our date on Friday night. We don’t really fight anymore, just disagree.

He is gone two nights a week. One for his church calling then basketball and one for a weekly meeting. As we were waiting in line to see the worst musical ever written, I laid my concern out there. “LG, I need a night off during the week. You are gone two nights and I am really overwhelmed at home. It’s just really hard to do what I do 12 hours a day. Not having work this past week has made me even more cranky. This week has been emotionally overtaxing when I haven’t any chance at all to escape motherhood.” LG responded like he does often on the defense, “Alice, it’s not like I am having fun those two nights.” And then, “I get it, I really do.”

I kind of came unglued. “No, you DON’T get it. You go to work every day and then you come home and eat dinner, whereas two nights a week, you then leave. Yes, you took care of stuff after work for the past 2 months while I was at work, and you know how hard and long those days were, but you DON’T GET IT.  You don’t do all the laundry and cook all the meals. You don’t get what it is like to be a mom home day after day, baby after baby, toddler after toddler. Your hubby pursues all his academic/professional dreams and you are home with kids. The days turn into weeks, the weeks turn into years, and one day you wake up and think ‘what have I accomplished? Anything at all?”

I guess you could say I’m having a midlife crisis. I really am. On the way home LG poured out his heart to me, “Alice, I’m sorry. I don’t get it. I do get that you are miserable to be around lately and I can’t fix it for you. Take a night of the week. Take all the time you want. Just figure out what you need.” Yeah, he’s a jewel.

Except I stayed stuck in his first defensive reply and didn’t feel supported or justified in my one night of the week.

But, really it’s not about the night of the week. It’s about me getting what I need. And I don’t know what the heck I need.

Yesterday

I struggled yesterday. It was kind of the opposite of the Beatles song where “all my troubles seem so far away”. I was hating life. I just didn’t want to be here at home. I didn’t want to be at the mercy of my family for another day. I could blame it on my anti-depressant still kicking back in or my lack of sleep, but what it really boils down to is that I was lacking the light. I had burned it out with my negativity and selfishness. I didn’t start my day out with the family or with my God in study and prayer, but stayed in bed letting LG take care of getting the girls out the door. Then when Caroline insisted on my attention just a half an hour later my resentment began and just seemed to grow throughout the day.

I put a little ditty out on facebook asking friends for advice on how they are happy at home: I got all kinds of advice, none of which was anything new that I don’t know already.  When my first attempt for help on facebook didn’t work, I called a good friend and begged to know the trick to being happy. Surprisingly she said she had no idea. I was so validated by both my friend on the phone and another honest friend on facebook who told me she struggles too. I realized that I didn’t need advice, but validation and support. The validation I had received from two of my many friends (interesting how so many dished out advice instead of encouragement) was wonderful, but I knew what I really needed was the same from my higher power. I needed to chase out the darkness with light.

iron At about 3 o’clock while watching Abigail nap on the couch, I had this overwhelming want for the same. Even though I knew I wasn’t really tired, I just wanted to escape.

I thought of all the friends’ earlier advice about taking time for myself and knew that although that advice was good, it wasn’t a long-term solution to finding peace and joy being home.

I went to my room and got down on my knees. I prayed to God, “I’m really struggling today God, show me the better way.”

I can’t explain it, but I got up from that prayer with an increased desire to serve my family. I decided I would iron LG’s work shirts. Because I quit my job we don’t have enough money this week for dry cleaning. Ironing is my most detested household chores. LG needed work shirts for training this week and I could be a help to him or ignore it and make him do it himself. I was shocked at how the ironing didn’t seem to be so dreadful. With each of the five shirts I felt an increased sense of happiness and love. I was choosing this for myself and God was there to do his magic. My resentment disintegrated with every puff of steam.

While ironing I pondered on the verse, “Come unto me all ye who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” I wasn’t angry that I couldn’t afford to dry clean, but I was noticeably supported and enabled.

Wow. I didn’t know it could be that easy.

I then decided to serve my kids. I normally would try to avoid Caroline by doing the soccer carpool while leaving her home with her other two sisters. Instead I took her with me and we played at the park while waiting for the after-soccer commute. She was noticeably more delightful. (Caroline can be super high maintenance) She happily played and even let me sit and read for a bit.

I smiled while watching her interact with another boy on the playground saying, “Hey kid, come and get me.” As she adventured around the cement curbing, it took me back to when I was a kid and would do the same. From where I sat, I turned around to see Abigail out at the front in her soccer drills, and I swelled with pride. I marveled, “So this is what they call joy in my posterity.”  Thanks be to God.

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As the evening came to a close I was actually excited to spend an hour on folding the basket-full of socks that have been ignored for about a month. I turned on a movie which touched my heart and vowed to fold socks weekly and take some TV time for myself – it was actually a break. As I walked back to my room for bed I checked in on each of the girls. As I saw them sleeping comfortably I felt a full measure of joy at just the thought that they are all mine. By the time I got to my room, I felt compelled to my knees to thank God for my beautiful blessings. I haven’t felt like that in a long time, and I certainly don’t feel like that enough when it comes to my kids.

Yesterday, God made all the difference in my life. He literally took me from a dark place where I didn’t want to be to the place where “all my troubles seemed so far away”.