For the Overwhelmed Mom of Multiples

Hey there, Mama. Are you tired? Did you spend your day kind of wondering how to get your Littles under control? Do you yo-yo back and forth between feeling like Supermom and a total failure? Do you stare at those little faces looking up at you and wonder how someone so beautiful, so innocent, so small could cause you to feel more overwhelmed and underprepared than you did the morning of taking the SATs?

Seriously. I get you. I am you. 

I am an overwhelmed mom.
I forget doctor’s appointments, I walk into rooms and stand there, completely forgetting why I am there, and I take long showers just to find ten minutes of peace. I lose my cool over the whining, and I cry over spilled milk. And you know what I have come to realize…
I am overwhelmed but don’t have to be.

That’s right.

I don’t have to be. I don’t have to feel this way.

How do I know this?

Well, it’s a little something…a BIG something called perspective. It really does change everything.

Lately, I have felt so frazzled and just all over the place, mentally, emotionally… My mothering of these precious people has suffered greatly, because of exhaustion and impatience. Every two seconds (and I am NOT exaggerating) it’s “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” Their “Mommy-Do” List is longer than my “Honey-Do” List! Really. And it’s annoying sometimes, you know?

I found myself snapping at one of my kids not too long ago. I can’t remember what it was over. I know that they were doing something that I just found irritating. Like being too silly at an inopportune time or something like that. Totally not a big deal, but I caught myself making it a big deal. That’s when this thought occurred to me…

 

“Kristi, remember when it was just Ava? Would this behavior have annoyed you?”

And you guessed it, that answer was a blaring “No.”

It didn’t even take a lot of pondering. It was not that big of a deal. Even the biggest of deals wouldn’t have ruffled my feathers when it was just one child. So, it hit me…

They aren’t the problem. They are just being silly, funny, goofy, lively KIDS. You, my dear, are the one looking at it differently…negatively.

Yes, multiplying your children will definitely shorten your nerves and attention span, BUT, the root of the issue is worth recognizing and addressing. At least it has been for me. Just like I mentioned in a previous post regarding birth order and parenting, I believe that taking a minute to imagine the scenario you’re facing under different circumstances can possibly change everything, and change it for the better.  Sometimes, as parents, our perspectives stink just as badly as that pile of poopy diapers in the corner.  (Mine are actually piling up in the girls’ bathroom, but that’s beside the point…)

It really does work. Making a conscious effort to remove the behavior from the rest of the context of your day and your life and see it for what it really is can be such a reality check.

I know that reactions/responses are sometimes at the mercy of our schedules and other children, but when we have the chance to slow down and approach something a little differently during the day, I say, let’s try it!

For example:

Your firstborn asks if she can help you bake cookies. Of course! How sweet! Some mommy-daughter bonding time.

Your second of four asks the same question. Maybe next time, honey. Mommy has so much to do right now.

Maybe I am in a hurry, and my response is innocent, but I still could see myself having involved Ava at that age in some way or another, and I most-likely would have initiated the involvement in the first place.

That may be a poor example, but I hope that I am conveying my heart correctly here. Honestly speaking…children are time-consuming, and since our days just slip by so quickly, it may be so easy to brush them off and avoid certain activities altogether. Throw in sleepless nights, tending to infants, potty-training toddlers, cleaning up after pre-schoolers, and it’s really no wonder that we snap at the 25th “Mommy!!!” when it used to take 150 times to even remotely drive us buggy.

Truth be told, our subsequent children are growing up with a drastically different dynamic present than their oldest sibling experienced, and it’s our responsibility, as their mamas and papas, not to rob them of the joys of being little, simply because the plate is full and what’s left of the brain is overflowing.

At this point in my journey, as a mother to four, there are simply more of them and less of me. Oh, how it shows. Often. But my new mission in 2015 is to make each little person in my care feel like the ONLY person in my world while I am interacting with them, even if it’s just for that two whole seconds when they’re asking me for their fourth breakfast of the morning or the (what seems like forever) 25 minutes it takes for me to watch as they show me how they can put a 18-piece puzzle together.

I am more and more convinced every day that mothering is the most involved “job” on earth, and yes, it can be so overwhelming, but…my new motto serves to remind me…it doesn’t have to be.

So, when you feel overwhelmed today, take these steps:

1 – Stop.  Stop what you are doing and thinking.
2 – Reflect upon happier/easier times of focusing on one person.  Ask yourself, “Would this behavior/situation have made me frazzled then?”
3 – If the answer is “no”, redirect your own thoughts and responses so that you leave the little one feeling loved and yourself feeling like Mom of the Year.  (Or at least Mom of the Moment. 😉 ) *If the answer is “yes”, then by all means proceed in acting like a ninny.
4 – Give that little stinker a big squeeze, because you probably need it more than they do!

You’re not alone in this thing, mama.  I’m just one gray hair away…

And…if you just scrubbed poo off of your toddler’s bedroom carpet, like I just did, then you are really not alone.  We may be tired.  We may be cranky at times, but we’ve got this!  It’s in the bag.  Like the poo… xo

Need a few more laughs?
Check out these posts next.  I think they’ll make you feel better!

Confessions of a Mother of Multiples
Motherhood
I Owe Them JOY
I’ll Find It…Go to Bed
That Took For-everrrr
It’s a Mom’s Life

One of my most popular posts and another perspective changer:
Bedtime Lessons the Change Everything

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facing reality: time to tackle the toys

I don’t know about you, but everyday is a struggle around here when it comes to the mess. Mess of laundry… dishes… clutter… TOYS. With kids 5, 3.5, and 21 months, toys have to be the worst by far, and, while I am trying desperately to teach my girls to clean up after themselves, it feels more like a daily battle than a healthy process. Most of the time, we end up in yelling, tears, and threats. 

“If you don’t pick up those (600) dolls, they are going… in the trash… to another child who doesn’t have any toys… on top of the refrigerator… in the basement…!!!” 

“You have 15 minutes to clean this room, and whatever is left on the floor is going away for a week!” 

And the list goes on. Crazy enough…we actually follow through with our threats, and they STILL don’t care!  They have “Clean Up Toys” on their chore charts. Guess which space is NEVER filled with a magnet? That one.

It seems simple enough, and I feel as though I have tried everything. I talked with them about it.  I have shown them how to do it and where everything belongs.  I have cleaned with them on a consistent basis.  I have tried to keep things simple and organized in the playroom.  {You can see a post about the playroom here.} 

The only thing I haven’t done, which I would like to do in the near future, is label each bin with pictures, like Abby, of Just a Girl and Her Blog, has done. {See that post here.}  A great and talented friend of mine can easily make them. {You can visit her Facebook page here.} I simply haven’t yet, b/c I can’t seem to commit to locations, contents, and some bins have endured more than others and need replaced. {We have these ones from Ikea.}

Here are a few snap shots of the “Battle Zone” and what it typically looks like through the day:

At first, I thought, “If I could just properly organize it all, it won’t be so bad, and it will stay where it needs to stay.  The girls will learn that everything has a place, and they’ll actually put it there!”

Reality was – I was always cleaning up myself and stashing things that were either too messy or dangerous in the few high places that we have in there.  It wasn’t how I had intended for an organized play/work space to function.

We had a really old bookcase in the basement.  It was left in the garage by the previous owners.  They had used it to house paint cans, oily stuff, etc.  It was a mess.  We cleaned it up as well as we could and moved it into the basement for the storage of shoes and random things.  Hubby wants to finish the basement in the near future, so we talked about trashing it.  I saw a glimmer of hope for it, though, and begged him to let me keep it.  He wasn’t fully on-board, but we sanded and painted it.  He reinforced some of the weaker spots along the bottom (since it’s basically 30-year-old plywood), and he moved it into the playroom for me.  

Here are a few shots of that:

This was never my original plan for this space {you can find that here in this post}, but money, time, and necessity kind of forced my hand.  Eventually, I’m sure that this room will evolve yet again, but for now, this was my only solution.  I picked up a few little bins at the Dollar Store and packed it up while the kids slept.  I was even able to create an “Eden-friendly” zone.  The girls loved it and were so delighted by it the following morning.

They’ve done a decent job of keeping things on the shelf, but it still looks like a tornado ripped through there for the majority of the day, and I am still going in every night to clean up and reorganize.  It’s just not working as well as I had hoped.

So, long story short, I have had it. It seems like I’m not alone either. I have read at least three posts in the past month from other bloggers regarding how toys have bogged them down, and not just them…their kids too! Their common solution: Get rid of it. Period.

My husband and I have talked about that option for years now. We even intended to carry out the:  “For every toy that comes in, one goes out” rule.  Honestly, it never happened consistently.  We simply have too much. The kids have too much. We know it, but yet we haven’t done anything about it. 

Here is why I believe that is happening:

1) Love.  You want your kids to have it all. You love them, and you are grateful for the ability to provide them with things that make them happy, make them smile, and honestly, the high you get when gifting them with something new and longed-for is hard to give up.

2) Guilt.  You know how much something cost. Either you or your friends or your family members dropped a pretty penny on x,y,z, and you see dollar signs when you consider donating it or throwing it away. You avoid it altogether, b/c, in a sense, you feel your hands are tied and you’re just stuck with the item until it breaks or your babes outgrow it. This is why we currently own 4 of those Disney riding/push toys that play delightfully obnoxious music.

3) Sentiment.  Grandpa and Grandma So-n-So bought that. And that. And that. And those too. As a matter of fact, they probably bought 85% of the stuff your children own. It’s hard when you attach a piece of someone you love to an object, isn’t it? “We can’t donate that book…Auntie wrote her a letter in it.” “We can’t throw away that doll. Yes, I know, its arm fell off two years ago, but Grammy brought it over for her 2nd birthday.” You feelin’ me?

4) Laziness / Procrastination. Guilty! It takes time, effort, and some serious willpower to clean out your kids’ toys. Most of the time, I don’t know where to start, I don’t want to complete it halfway, or I’m too tired to explain, rationalize and argue a toy out of the house. “But Mooommmm…I played with that yesterday!!!” (Yesterday being 32 months ago.)

5) Denial. “My kids don’t have that much, really. I mean two bins of baby dolls aren’t excessive. All of the play food fits well in that tub. Yes, a six year old could take a nap in it easily too, but that’s beside the point.”  The truth is: There.Is.Too.Much.

This morning, I read this post, “Fewer Things. More Peace.” by one of my favorite bloggers, Sarah Mae (she was a guest writer for another blog: BecomingMinimalist).  And like I had mentioned previously, it hit me that I have been reading a lot of these kinds of posts lately.  Many of us are feeling overwhelmed by the mess that seems to naturally overtake our homes.  I finally came to the firm decision that it’s time to take action.  I don’t know if we’ll get down to 20 toys, but I am certain that we can trim a great deal if we just set our minds to it and press through.  I may even start setting a timer once a week, taking the girls into the playroom or their bedrooms and saying, “Ok, we’re going to spend just ten minutes looking for five things that we don’t need anymore and that would make another child smile.”  Something like that…

A bonus find… Sarah Mae’s book, 31 Days to Clean – Having a Martha House the Mary Way is just $0.99 today!  I have read the Foreword and Intro and I am already excited to dig deeper into the book.  It just makes so much sense – to create a warm, inviting space, but I just need some practical direction from a fellow mom who’s “been there.”  You can find it by clicking the Amazon link below (aff. link). 

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Dear Baby

**The following post is one of my first published works.  It can be found in the paperback, New Life Within:  Real Babies.  Real Moms.  Real Stories.  It was such an honor to be approached for this project, and even more so to be one of just two proofreaders selected to assist the editor prior to printing.  Thank you in advance for reading.  Hope it blesses you.


Dear Baby,

How could I have known how you were going to change my life?

I used to spend hours in front of a mirror; I’d brush my hair, my long, thick hair. I’d paint my nails, and lotion my legs after a long, hot bath. I knew every freckle, every scratch, every detail of myself. After all, who else did I have to pay attention to every day and night? Then, you came into my world, and I have traded those tendencies for a new form of pampering. You. I would trade every beauty tool, every manicure, bubble bath…anything…to spend my time running tired fingers through your feather-soft curls, scrubbing your teeny, little toes as you splash me wildly with lukewarm bath water, massaging lavender-scented baby cream all over your sweet, soft skin. I have memorized every inch of your God-painted canvas. I know that you have a second piggy on that pudgy little foot that bends slightly to the left, and I could draw that little, round birthmark with my eyes closed. You are precious to me. How could I have ever known just how precious to me you would be?

I sang to you in the car every morning on the drive to work. Before I knew if you were a girl or boy, and you were a wriggling little bean in an ever-expanding bump, I’d sing. It was my time to be loud – to be quiet. I’d sing to you, for you, at you. Sometimes I would sing to you a praise song at the top of my voice, and other times, I’d whisper you a lullaby. How would I have ever known that those car ride serenades would seem so small in comparison to the songs to come? As I cradled your newborn body in my arms each night, singing over your tininess…I would melt inside at the awesome revelation that God says He sings over me too. Just as I sang over you, He sings over us. (Zephaniah 3:17) That alone would have been enough to make motherhood amazing, but then, you got a little bigger, and one night, you decided to sing my song to you right back to me. How could I have ever known that your voice would make such an imprint on my soul? That the soundtrack of my happiness would come from your lips?

Your innocence is the light in my world.  Your laughter, my favorite sound.  I thought I was creative, until I heard you playing make-believe and realized that your imagination is genius.  You read my eyes and know me.  You heard my heart beating from the inside, and somehow, I think you always will.

You call me “Mommy.” I call you “tangible joy.” You call me “Mother.” I call you “Baby.” You call me ‘Mama.” I call you “Angel.”

No one on earth loves me like you do. No one on earth needs me like you do. No one on earth sees me like you do. I say ‘earth’, because I know where your love for me comes from. It comes from the same heart that has gifted me with my love for you. God. I have loved you with an everlasting love. You love, because I first loved you. (Jeremiah 31:3 and 1 John 4:19)

Dear Baby, I don’t know what life has in store for you and me, but if what has been is any indicator as to what is coming…I know it will be nothing short of Heaven.

saturday pin-it party and affirmations for mamas!

welcome to the weekly pin-it party!  

featured from last week:
“one-line affirmations for moms” from katie of pick any two.
these are seriously good, and each is a line that i could and should say to myself daily.  pin-it for later, or head there now for an instant reality-check and breathe a big sigh of relief.  you’ve got this, mama.

participating in the party is so easy!
here’s what to do:

1. follow the co-hosts on pinterest (links below)

paula from beauty through imperfection

becky from your modern family

gabrielle from MamaGab

me! kristi from klover house


2. pin our “pin-it party” picture. (one of these)

3. add as many of your great pins as you want!  remember to get your pins from pinterest & not from your blog page. it will make it easier to re-pin a pin instead of a post.

4. hop around and re-pin other pins from this page- lets share the love!

5. adding your link gives us permission to use an image from the pin (or post connected to the pin) to feature on next week’s pin-it party. because of this we ask that you only link up images from your own site, and images that you have taken, created or have legal rights to.

thanks!!!! REMEMBER: when it asks for your NAME, you can put your PIN NAME or your BLOG NAME. essentially, it’s your pin’s title.

***PLEASE NOTE*** if the post that your pin leads to contains any offensive or derogatory wording (e.g. profanity), i will not be able to feature your pin, no matter how great the article or how terrific the idea. the use of those terms simply doesn’t align with my personal convictions, and what we, at klover house, aim to promote. thank you in advance for understanding!

join the klover house family on facebook, pinterest, and twitter!
  

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Respect for the “Solo” Mama and 5 Things that Keep This One Sane…

I must say… I have such a new level of respect for the “solo” mama.  I’m not going to go as far as to say “single”, because I know you can be married and still spend the majority of your time parenting alone.  And by “alone”, you know what I mean, right?  Like, physically the only adult in the picture, hands-on.

My husband has been traveling more this year than I ever thought he would.  The weeks are long, and the nights are longer.  With three little ones under the age of five and being almost six months pregnant, I am well out of steam by 10am Monday morning.  That makes for a looong week when the hubs is off daddy-duty, friends.

five
I thank God for my mom popping in a couple of times here and there on those weeks to drop something off for our business (Eden Gray Clothing) or to bring lunch or dinner on a whim.  She babysits full-time for my brother, so I can’t steal her away for long, but if it weren’t for her little visits, I would surely unravel by Friday.

This last trip of his, I found myself thinking a lot about single moms and military mamas or wives of other men that spend more than the tolerable time (for a wife) at the workplace – doctors, fellow travelers, etc.  some of us women spend a lot of time parenting alone, and it’s hard!

My hat goes off to you, mamas!  God bless you with a visitor, a nap, a phone call from a friend, a surprise meal…
God bless you with sanity!

And on that note…here are some things that I have gotten into the habit of doing to keep my sanity with these little, needy, beautiful, dear souls entrusted to me when the days are extra long and tiring…

1 – Say “I love you.” A lot.  Especially when you want to throw them outside but can’t (because it’s raining or freezing or dark… haha).
My husband has called me in total frustration in the past, “Where are you?!  How much longer?!  Are you almost home?!  I can’t take any more of this!  You were made for this!  God gave you more patience than me!”,  and the list goes on.  Ever get those same calls or texts while you were simply making a grocery run?  haha  Yep.  Made for this.  Well, maybe that’s it, because I’d like to believe that I am “made for” this mothering thing, but I admit that I lose my cool with the kids just like Dad does.  I get tired and frustrated too.  The whining…the tattling…the constant requests…it can be like nails on a chalkboard at times, but… I still adore them, and telling them out loud does something to my soul.  It resets my nerves and gets my focus back on track.

I first noticed it when my second was a newborn.  I remember she was up, miserable, crying incessantly one night.  I had a bad cold, and she was nearly brand-new.  It was late, like 3am, and I wanted so badly to just lay her down in her crib, shut the door and go to bed.  I didn’t.  Instead, I remember standing in our living room, holding her unhappy self in my arms and just saying over and over, “I love you.  I love you.  I love you.”  I’d kiss her forehead and say it, and you know what, it’s when I feel the least “together” that the “I love you” wants to flow out of me the most.  It has become my grounding mechanism.  Whispering “I love you” to your child when aggravated is like a soothing force over a weary mind.

2 – Touch them.
Now, not in the spanking sense that you may want to gravitate towards when they are acting up, but rather, get down on one knee if you can, and touch their arm, their hands, their face…  make a connection with your eyes and your hands.

I just used this method today.  My child was acting up badly.  She shoved her little sister right in front of me and was sent immediately to “time out”.  “Time out” was going poorly too.  She was standing on the chair, jumping out of the chair, touching things on the table beside her that she wasn’t allowed to be touching, sticking her tongue out.  She was acting rotten to put it plainly.  All of that bought her extra time of course, which was explained to her over her 11 minute stay in isolation (normally 5, because she’s just seven weeks shy of her 5th birthday).

My frustrated self wanted to scream, wanted to demand that she go and take a nap… but, I also could realize that she was acting this way for a few possible reasons:  she’s tired after school and refuses to fall asleep for naptime after lunch, she was up several times throughout the night and went to bed later than usual, she was feeling unhappy/grumpy about something that happened at school, and she was arguing with her sister (who was still trying to mock her from the other room)…  So, after her ‘time out’, I called her sister over, dropped to my knees and took them both by the hand.

My physical touch helped to hold their undivided attention.  I didn’t have to squeeze or hold them in place, I just held their hands and told them to listen to my words and look at my eyes.  I kept my expectations brief and simple:

“Mommy has to finish some work, and I have to clean up the house.  I need you to play quietly (because the baby was sleeping) and nicely together, or you will have to go to your bedroom.  No fighting.  No yelling.  No walking or jumping on the couch.  Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

That was over an hour ago, and I haven’t had to yell at them or break up one argument since.  A soft but firm tone and a gentle touch that says, “I love you, but I mean business” seems to go far most of the time.

3 – Keep the house straightened up.
I know – you want to smack me, right?  Yeah.  I get it.  I can’t stand cleaning up this house every day.  I think of how much simpler it was when we were selling our last home and 85% of our belongings were boxed up and out-of-sight.  Life was so less cluttered and so was my mind!  Now, these little tornadoes are just that…tornadoes.  All.day.long.

I am tempted to just let it go…let it be.  After all, you can only do so much, right?  Especially when you are the only parent at home for an extended time, but I have learned the hard way that when I “let it go”, I pay with my sanity.  The mountain on the kitchen island…the random piles of laundry…the dishes calling my name…the sea of crumbs on the floor…  they take my anxiety level from bad to oh-my-gosh-help-me-get-out-of-this-nightmare-worse.  Seriously.  When you are tired and stressed, the last thing you need is to also feel like you are living in an episode of “Hoarders”.

So, I adopted the motto:  A clean home is a calm home.

I fail at keeping the place looking top-notch, and I never accomplish as much as I wish that I could, but I force myself to clean something before carting myself off to the couch or the bed.  I may not tackle every area, but generally tidying up the house each evening does wonders for my soul come morning.

4 – Read to them
Nothing calms my nerves more than sitting down on the couch with my favorite blondies snuggled beside me and a book in my lap.  When they are super tired (and I am super tired), they will happily sit at my side for an hour at times.  Just sit there.  No fussing, no whining, no fighting.  A few times, I have gotten lucky and our story time has led to a late afternoon movie and a couch nap!  Seriously though, if your babes are tired, but fight sleep like mine, have a story time with them and enjoy the chance to sit quietly together while they calm down and you recharge.

5 – Play with them / get silly   
My kids just want my attention (don’t all kids want that from their parents 24/7?).

When I am flying solo or having a lousy day, sometimes, I just stop whatever it is that I am doing and play with them.  A lot of their play time is with one another.  I try to play, but they leave me in their dust!  (I am pregnant, remember? lol) But even if my body could keep up, often my imagination can’t!  I have noticed that on the rough days, just being there – on the floor, in the same room – they will calm down, and everyone (especially me) starts to smile a little more. It resets the mood of the day.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that when I am about to lose my mind, if I actually let my grumpy guard down and succumb to the madness – SING a song that they love in a goofy voice, act out the scene of a favorite movie, talk to them with an English accent, anything remotely goofy… my mood improves immediately.  Life gets better immediately!  Yes, the mess is still surrounding me.  Yes, dinner is still needing to be prepared.  Yes, the garbage still needs taken out.  But, I am soooo much calmer and ready to tackle my tasks and mother appropriately when the “reset” button is hit.  Bringing out my inner “fun mom” helps tremendously.

So those are a few of the ways that I maintain my sanity as an overworked, overtired, pregnant mama of little people.  How about you?  What are your go-to methods / sanity-saving practices?  I would love to hear about them!

mom

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Update: Since writing this article, we have added to our crew! Our fourth daughter was born in 2015, and, while my husband has a new job that requires less travel, I feel the need to reread this post and follow my advice daily! Four kiddos, six and under, is exhausting!

Remember, keep your love on, keep your perspective in check, drop the perfection, and just breathe.

You’ve got this, Mama. I know you do. xoxo

kloverhouse

join the ‘silly mommy club’ and check out the party too!

hello, friends, and happy saturday! if this is your first time joining us, welcome! glad to have you, and i am sure that you will find many great things here!

question for you – if you are a parent, do you struggle with keeping yourself peppy and fun throughout the day?  do you get sucked into the vortex of seriousness and wish you could just stop and smile more, laugh even?  well, here is a great post written by a mama who knows what it takes to keep your sanity and really enjoy life with your little ones at the same time!  when you feel as though you are about to snap and all you want to do is curl up on the couch for some ‘me-time’, remember this post, ‘5 crazy ways to join the silly mommies club’, from cassandra of raising up stones, and just decide to roll with it!  jump head-first into the silliness and let the giggles and smiles radiating from your babies breathe life back into your sails.  i am thankful to cassandra for sharing her most honorable name with us and for inspiring me personally to lay down my adult hat more often and let my kids see the lighter side of mommy.  to pin it for reading later, click {here}.

ok, your turn to pin!

participating in the party is so easy!
here’s what to do:

1. follow the co-hosts on pinterest (links below)

paula from beauty through imperfection

becky from your modern family

gabrielle from MamaGab

me! kristi from klover house


2. pin our “pin-it party” picture. (one of these)

3. add as many of your great pins as you want!  remember to get your pins from pinterest & not from your blog page. it will make it easier to re-pin a pin instead of a post.

4. hop around and re-pin other pins from this page- lets share the love!

5. adding your link gives us permission to use an image from the pin (or post connected to the pin) to feature on next week’s pin-it party. because of this we ask that you only link up images from your own site, and images that you have taken, created or have legal rights to.

thanks!!!! REMEMBER: when it asks for your NAME, you can put your PIN NAME or your BLOG NAME. essentially, it’s your pin’s title.

***PLEASE NOTE*** if the post that your pin leads to contains any offensive or derogatory wording (e.g. profanity), i will not be able to feature your pin, no matter how great the article or how terrific the idea. the use of those terms simply doesn’t align with my personal convictions, and what we, at klover house, aim to promote. thank you in advance for understanding!

join the klover house family on facebook, pinterest, and twitter!
  

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pin-it party and two fabulous features!

good morning and happy saturday, pin-it party friends! if this is your first time joining us, welcome! glad to have you, and i am sure that you will find many great things here!

i found several pins from last week to be especially relevant to the things that i am dealing with as a mama of three very sweet, spirited, and strong-willed blondies.  :)  the subject of one pin in particular lines up perfectly with a book that i recently read that i have found to be both helpful and challenging.  it’s all about buckle-down parenting.  no more excuses and using parenting techniques that get straight to the point.  the pin is this one, stop counting to 3 & start teaching responsibility, from stacy of huddlenet.com.

the book that i read is this one (affiliate link):
Have a New Kid by Friday, by Dr. Kevin Leman

another great pin, that i plan on revisiting closer to our vacation is this one, storytelling cubes travel set, from frog in a pocket.  i love this idea, and i already have the cubes!  i think, since my children are small, i will mod podge pictures of family members on the cubes along with pictures showing different activities, so that our stories will be silly, like “eden grace is riding a motorcycle with a piggy to the playground.”  funny pictures will make for silly stories!  thank you for the inspiration, anik!

ok, your turn to pin!

participating in the party is so easy!
here’s what to do:

1. follow the co-hosts on pinterest (links below)

paula from beauty through imperfection

becky from your modern family

gabrielle from MamaGab

me! kristi from klover house


2. pin our “pin-it party” picture. (one of these)

3. add as many of your great pins as you want!  remember to get your pins from pinterest & not from your blog page. it will make it easier to re-pin a pin instead of a post.

4. hop around and re-pin other pins from this page- lets share the love!

5. adding your link gives us permission to use an image from the pin (or post connected to the pin) to feature on next week’s pin-it party. because of this we ask that you only link up images from your own site, and images that you have taken, created or have legal rights to.

thanks!!!! REMEMBER: when it asks for your NAME, you can put your PIN NAME or your BLOG NAME. essentially, it’s your pin’s title.

***PLEASE NOTE*** if the post that your pin leads to contains any offensive or derogatory wording (e.g. profanity), i will not be able to feature your pin, no matter how great the article or how terrific the idea. the use of those terms simply doesn’t align with my personal convictions, and what we, at klover house, aim to promote. thank you in advance for understanding!

join the klover house family on facebook, pinterest, and twitter!
  

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evicting the naptime monster!

i made a decision regarding the dreaded nap recently. naps are still necessary. the end!

seriously though, they are! 

i’d have to do some digging to figure out when exactly naps were abandoned in our household, but i’d like to say that it was roughly about the time that eden was born (so about a year ago). i used to pride myself on my schedules and my ability to commit to them. isla napped from 9 to 11, ava napped from 2 to 5, and isla returned for a nap at 3 until 5. that schedule was glorious and evolved into both of the girls taking late afternoon naps and waking shortly before dinner. it gave me plenty of time to clean up, make dinner, write, shower, catch up on phone calls, e-mails, or even rest myself as a pregnant mama (who was also in the midst of selling a home).

times quickly changed once eden grace arrived, and the overthrow of naptime commenced. i listened hopelessly to friends telling me that their child also gave up naps at 1, 2, 3 years old. i waved my white flag thinking that our days of rest and accomplishing things were in the past.

eden now naps from 11 to 1 each day and the older two, who are almost always up with the sun, are cranking through the day with a tired and dragging mother. it.is.no.fun. now, don’t get me wrong…i put on my happy face, i laugh, play, joke, read, serve meals, run errands, etc. we are not a house full of grumpy zombies, but we do have a fair share of arguing, meltdowns, and stretches of laying listlessly on the floor in front of the television out of sheer exhaustion. however… no.one.surrenders.to.a.nap. unless my kids are in a moving vehicle, no one ever falls asleep!

i fought them and fought them. i tried everything i could think of…quiet time, silent reading time, snuggle together in mommy’s bed… i tried early naps, late naps, even lunch time naps! nothing seemed to be working. i threw in the towel until this week. i made that decision. naps are still necessary, and it’s time for mama to be mama and enforce them. period.

it’s not going to be pretty, and it’s not going to be popular. it is however going to be necessary, and i won’t take “no” for an answer any longer. the kids will see that i mean business and rather than fight it forever, they will adapt, and it will become a part of their daily routine once more.

“family rest time.” that is what i am going to be calling it from now on. as of tomorrow, ava and isla will be sharing a room together, so it may be wild and challenging for a bit, but i am determined to see this through. they need it. i need it.

as i sit here typing, i hear them flipping pages of the books in their beds. all is quiet. eden is still sound asleep, and i am sitting on my bed, enjoying a cup of tea and the great view from my window. for the first time in a while, i am feeling like i’m steering this parenting thing in the better direction. notice, i didn’t say “right direction”, just better – better for my family.

in just a few minutes, i’ll return to their rooms, close their books, and tell them that reading time is over, it is now time for sleep. they’ll probably protest, but like anything else, consistency will be key. chances are, eden will be awake before anyone else falls asleep, and one of the two may not nap at all, but i’ll press on anyway, b/c i’ve got an end-goal in mind.  so, wish us luck! i’ll let you know how things are going after a solid week of being a meanie!  😉

in the meantime…leave a comment telling me about your naptime woes or triumphs!

*update as of 1:30pm:
ava and isla are both asleep!  day #1 was successful!

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perfect love, come cast out fear

i don’t know about you, but i struggle tremendously with fear as a mom. i read a story this week about a freak accident in which a tree fell on a vehicle, taking the lives of two of four sisters. little girls, blondies, happy little souls that were probably looking forward to going home and playing with dolls, riding their bikes, eating ice cream…and just like that, they are gone. my mama-heart breaks just thinking about it. it breaks for that mama, and it breaks in painful empathy. that could just as randomly happen to my girls.

they are going boating tonight with their dad and grandpa for the first time. they are almost three and four and a half. they are still my babies, and i am afraid. i shower and images of isla falling into the lake water cripple me. i see my husband go to grab her, and she slips out of the life jacket b/c she is so tiny, and she’s lost in the muddy water. i’m not even asleep, yet i am plagued with nightmares. i get out of the shower and say to my husband, ‘if one of the girls happens to fall in, make sure you grab their physical bodies, not the jackets.’

my fear is met with chastisement, b/c it shows i don’t trust him as a daddy. but the truth is, i don’t trust anyone, and sadly, i am learning that i don’t even trust God when it comes to my babies.

i am hesitant to even admit those words, but i struggle with something that i call, ‘the Job complex.’ i sing songs that say, ‘nothing else matters, but You, Lord,’ and ‘take it all.’ but, if i am being real here, that’s not the truth. my girls are everything to me. sometimes, i think they are the actual beat of my heart, and if anything were to happen to one of them, it would just stop completely.

i hate living in this fear. i hate being afraid of losing my child. accidents, violence, kidnappings…it’s just too much to bear. God says to cast our cares on Him. He tells me to give Him my heavy load, and take His light one in its place, but what does that really look like? how do i live in freedom as a parent? i don’t think God calls us to be careless, but i know He doesn’t want me to be crippled by fear and control, either. and then there’s that ‘Job complex’ in the mix that wants to taunt me – He could let all that i love be stripped away in an instant. i don’t care that the latter half of Job’s life was more blessed than the first. the whole thing troubles me deeply.

this is one of those conversations that i would love to have with God. i’d love to crawl up next to Him, lay my head down and tearfully share every fear i have with Him. i’d want Him to assure me that He wouldn’t let any of them come to pass, and then, He’d brush His hand over my mind, and every fear would vanish. i would get up and parent in confidence, trusting Him like never before. i’d take Him at His word. i’d believe what He says. i wish He could just tell me that everything would always be okay and that i could finally breathe again.

this morning, as i was about to walk down our stairs, ava unexpectedly shoved me as hard as she could. we had been playing with one another in eden’s room just before, being silly, laughing, tickling, wrestling, hugging and kissing. the silliness was maxed out. so, i know she pushed me out of playfulness, but i had eden on my hip, and i wasn’t ready for the sudden blow. my back contorted violently in my attempt to keep my balance. the whole thing scared me to death. after i got my footing, i whipped around and said frantically, ‘ava! you never push anyone on the stairs. you could have really hurt mommy, even sent me to Jesus!’ shock and regret came over her face and she welled up with tears. we embraced, and she bawled on my chest.

see, Lord? every moment has the potential to be dangerous! and now, i am adding the worry that she will push a little sister on the stairs, or off of the boat, or…or…or… ugh. the list continues and fear is fed once again.

on top of it all, i have to teach them. teach them not to push on the stairs, not to run into the street, not to climb bookshelves and dressers, not to horse around on the boat… how do i teach them, Lord, to be responsible and safe, while leaving fear out of the equation? how do i teach them the seriousness of their choices and to think before they act, without shaming them or making them afraid of everything too?  i don’t want them to be like me, in that respect, God.

perfect love casts out fear.

what does that mean, Lord? what does that look like in my life? how do i find this perfect love and apply it to my whole being?

Father, i am tired of being scared. i am tired of wondering if something terrible is going to happen to the babies that you have gifted me. You gave them to me to care for and love, but i need Your help to do it right and do it well. i have no rest in my spirit. i am constantly on edge. i need Your rest and Your peace as a mother, Lord. Holy Spirit, i need a miracle. i need Your perfect love to come and cast the fear out of my heart. teach me how to pray, Lord, and more importantly, help me to hear Your voice. even if You answered me, i don’t know that i would hear You, so please help me to be quiet enough inside to hear You. thank you, Father for my children. they are so rare, like precious jewels. help me to trust that You love them even more than i do. help me to trust You completely. i give this day to You, Lord, and if i pick it up again, please remind me to keep laying it back down at Your feet. in Jesus’ name, i pray. amen.

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lament

i wish grace lived here.

once again i wake up after the husband and kids, b/c i’m dead-tired, dragging and wishing the day would rewind itself before it even had a chance to start. he’s in the shower, listening to his praise music. must be nice. to shower and spend your mental energy on Jesus in the morning. not this girl. i wake up to isla slamming a cupboard door that she shouldn’t be in, or hitting me over the head with a cup, asking for her morning milk, or ava swinging a remote two millimeters from my eyelid, whining that she wants to watch a show, or eden screaming from her crib, b/c isla already went in and offered her four barbie dolls.

husband emerges, says his hellos and begins to walk downstairs. ‘can you take the baby with you?’ i receive my first eye-roll/scowl/or lecture for the day. great. i just want to shower. oh, get up earlier you say, sir? well, i saw ava at 1am, and 230am (at which point i changed her peed-in pjs and tucked her back into bed). then, i had the pleasure of carrying isla back to bed at 430am, and i was so out of it that i called her ava, and it wasn’t until i was already walking down the hallway, that i noticed her petite body in my arms and realized that it was her this time. but hey, sure, i can get up at 6am and try to beat you to the shower so that eden doesn’t whine at you for more cheerios while you have your quiet time. either that, or i can just stink until 10pm, like i do most days anyway.

i stand firm though, and brush off his disappointment for some time to myself. cut myself shaving. ankles. probably the only bones still visible after growing my babies, and yep, i cut one. so, now i’m greeting the day with a bitter husband, whining children, and a wad of toilet paper stuck to a stinging ankle. doesn’t last long, b/c ava curiously rips it off before i make it past the dining room. baby is in her highchair, alone, a cheerio still left here and there. not happy, of course. hubs is partaking of his devotional time in the living room, alone, and the other two are running around like it’s 1999.

i have a sign in my dining room that reads: ‘let us be silent that we may hear the whisper of God.’ what it should probably read is: ‘let us lay prostrate on the kitchen floor until God actually shows up.’ i don’t feel Him on days like this. i know He’s there, but i can’t feel Him steering us in any shape or form. three tender moments today. three. over 50,000 minutes with my family, and i can count three tender moments.

we have breakfast. i have two loads of laundry going and all three cleaned up and happily dressed before 9:30am. miracle. we play in the backyard, enjoy homemade popsicles, and follow a baby bird around the yard, all before noon. poor bird. lunch and grocery time.

i get the kids in the car, and something starts to happen. the unraveling of a day. they want lunch now. they want to go to target, not sam’s club. they want to listen to the lion king song, not jesus culture. they want; they want; they want. no sam’s club card. nice. hubs has it. call him – no answer. i bet he’s out to lunch. call him again – answers. yep. out to lunch with a buddy at panera bread. oh, you know, the one restaurant he won’t take us to, b/c the portions are too small, the food is over-priced, and he always leaves hungry. yeah, that place. i head to the bank first for grocery money. ‘do the kids want lollipops?’ sure, nice teller-lady! two please. then it hits me that i just asked for punishment during our entire shopping experience. once eden sees those ‘pops’ in her sisters’ mouths and figures out that i don’t have one for her…i’m doomed. no one gets a pop until we get to the store. okay? okay. (at least if i sit her carseat sideways in the ginormous cart, she won’t be able to spy her sisters’ lollipop-sucking profiles.) they begrudgingly agree to my terms. i do a drive-by and grab the sam’s card from hubs, recalling that the last time he met us for lunch, isla was in a highchair. max ‘n erma’s 2012. interrupting his lunch date would be as bad as hijacking his morning quiet time, so i drive off to buy us a much unhealthier option – sonic. ugh. cheeseburgers and french fries it is. we eat in the car and talk about what policemen do. random and typical.

{most ‘recent’ lunch date – 2012}

arrive at sam’s and load girls into the cart as planned. perfect. eden never catches a glimpse of the goods and she is content to smile in the breeze. as i go to grab the handle of the shopping cart, i mistakenly whack ava’s lollipop onto the ground. the parking lot ground. after making her wait for 20 minutes, and lecturing her to keep it concealed…i knock it to the ground. as if my life flashed before my eyes, i whisk it up without hesitating and the ‘oh crap’ moment sets in. now what? there is more than half left on the stick. isla is savoring hers, and it’s my fault it went flying to the ground. the dirty, parking lot ground… the germophobe in me is screaming, ‘noooo!’, but the mama-guilt in me wins by a landslide. as if i was being filmed in slow-mo eating slugs on the nat-geo channel, i put the foul thing in my mouth and ‘wiped it clean’. ugh. oh heaven help me. for chicken and lettuce. i’m doing this for chicken and lettuce. and butter. can’t forget the butter. almost an hour later, what are we leaving with? a lot more, and if it were up to ava…a pretzel and a trampoline would have joined our caravan. (you know that moment in which you start over the initial drop of a roller coaster? this was that part of the day, and it crosses my mind that their sonic kids’ meals were laced with a disobedience powder of sorts.) i’m not paying $11 for butter, so i decide aldi’s is our next and final stop. to say they were ill-behaved would be putting it nicely. i got a sympathy pat on my right shoulder from a stranger – a mom of four. ‘i know what you are going through, honey.’ really? great. my usually kind-hearted and darling daughters are attacking each other, trying to headbutt the baby, sticking their tongues out at me, and shouting, ‘poop and pee’ at the top of their voices. can’t i just believe in aliens for two minutes, b/c these clearly aren’t my children. the ‘lilo and stitch’ dvd is going in the trash can tonight. have to start the reformation somewhere.

i make it to the checkout without buying popsicles or leaving ava in the freezer aisle. i am promising bum spanks once we get to the car (something i have never had to do in a public setting in all four and a half years of being a mom.) people are smirking at us. i am making jokes about ‘waving the white flag’ to onlookers, and isla is growling. eden is crying and has a red mark on her forehead. gee, is it any wonder why daddy never thinks to meet us for lunch? now i’m thinking about that again and how bad i think he stinks and i hope that his ‘pick two’ gave him reflux. i pay for the groceries, which started out as a butter-run and morphed into a fruit and veggie extravaganza, and we go to the car. of course there has to be a woman next to us while i have to follow through with the promise of spanking ava’s bottom. ‘you’re getting this spanking, remember? you didn’t listen to me in the store, and i told you that you were going to get a bum spank if you didn’t stop those x,y,z behaviors.’ cries for mercy break out. the woman is still piddling with something next to the car, and i quickly give a swat to the tushie of a very unhappy four-year-old. what a horrible day, and it’s just 2:30. oh, but it doesn’t end there. oh no…what happens next makes amelia bedilia look like she has it all together.

after putting the kids and the food in the car, i throw the stroller in the back. the box of chickens is sticking out of the van while i put the beast stroller in the right spot. in total haste and embarrassment, i run to the driver’s seat and hit the button for the hatch to close itself. the chicken. hit it again, so it becomes as confused as its operator and stalls. fix the chicken, and push the button to close the hatch again. proceed homeward. hop on highway. where is my phone? the stroller? man. get off of highway. pull over. phone? brand-new, four-day-old iphone…sticking half out from under the rear door! yep. good stuff right there. thank goodness, it still works. get back in the car and drive home.

eden wakes up as i pull into the garage. we all know what 10 minute car naps do to babies. bear. little grizzly. i make dinner for us and friends who just had a baby. that is the only thing going right so far. ava and isla are begging for tv, and, as badly as i want to glue them to the couch and let them sit in front of a movie, i realize that we are heading back out soon and the last thing i need is for them to pass out in front of the tv and pee on my floor. b/c they would. b/c i am having that kind of day. so, no! no movies. okay then, i guess running around and hitting each other is plan b, and i asked for it, right? eden is content, b/c i handed her a bowl of baby-sized white cheddar cheese puffs, and who doesn’t love cheese puffs? they’re all quiet. too quiet. ‘what are you doing?!’ ‘playing duck-duck-goose, mom!’ believable. okay. i finish dinner and begin to wrap up our delivery items. shoes on. dog in crate. no purse to be found and a kid has to poop. oh, for the love! poop then! where is my purse?! i’ll tear the house apart while you poop. no purse. seriously? i came in, put down our bags and haven’t left the kitchen in over two hours, and i manage to lose a purse?! panic hits. it’s gotta be on the highway. it fell off of the stroller and some wanderer picked it up and thought it was his/her lucky day b/c it had twenty-five dollars in it, my only debit and credit cards, a license, and one thousand joann fabric receipts. lucky day.

load up all of the food and the kids back into the car. open garage. frantically search for purse and husband appears. am i that late already?! and talk about timing – i just got these monkeys buckled. of course they don’t want to stay here with dad, they want to go with mommy. of course! i lost my purse. what?!!!?!!!?! yes, sir. i lost it. needless to say, grace still wasn’t showing up. husband speeds off for aldi’s. b/c, for whatever reason, they don’t list their phone number.  another wasted 411 charge.  i head for the highway.  i drive my little route twice. no purse in sight. he goes to aldi’s – no purse. i go to aldis’. ‘oh yes, i remember you – you had all of the kids in the stroller.’ yes, that was me, thanks. no purse.

white flag still waving. children all asleep in the car. i break out in a nervous-sweat, and my pit paste doesn’t want to work when i nervous-sweat. only when i’m nervous.  weird.  and see? i shouldn’t have even bothered with that shower this morning, b/c i smell like b.o. now anyway.

tender moment number one…in the midst of all the chaos and negativity, i get to meet nora. i get to see a few smiling faces that aren’t mad at me b/c i lost my purse, aren’t yelling at me to play a certain song, and aren’t pulling at my burning ankle, crying to be held. for about 10 minutes of this day, i felt the warmth of patience and hope and peace. so nice.  i think grace lives there.

i return to the van and decide to check the highway one more time. i drive like a ninny with my four-ways on, creeping along the berm on a very busy portion of interstate. pull off the exit that i had taken earlier and figure it couldn’t hurt to walk about ten yards or so of the straightest stretch in hopes that it’s there, blending in with the dirt. i pull over, lock the doors, and walk in the rain. now i’m smelly and getting drenched. no luck.  i get back into the car, succumbing to the fact that nearly the entire day has been a wreck, and i may as well write ‘epic fail’ on my forehead.  as i sit down and glance at my phone, i see a missed call and a text from the husband, who has been back at home for some time now.  ‘found it along with an empty bottle of rubbing alcohol , aroma oil, hair spray…’ (and a few other not-so-nice words about the kids not being supervised well enough and responsibility). insert crossed eyes here, b/c i think my brain just decided to braid itself. seriously? duck-duck-goose my rear! those kids were up there for 10 minutes, max! and when i asked twenty times if anyone had seen, touched, played with, taken or hid mommy’s purse…the answer was, ‘no.’ the truth of the situation is that isla had decided to snag my purse from the diaper bag (turns out my subconscious really does work when i’m stressed and frantically going through the motions) and bathe eden’s rocking horse, so she poured an entire bottle of safflower oil on its mane and tail and about a tbsp (all the was left) of rubbing alcohol on its saddle. and they lied about it all with wide eyes and innocent faces.  grace. give them grace. i wish i had some thrown my way too. i’d take a medicine cabinet installation also, please. that’d be helpful. i individually take the girls upstairs and talk with them in the bathroom about safety and poisons and things that they aren’t allowed to touch… deep breath.

i return to the main floor. child one lays on the dining room chair. child two falls back to sleep on the couch. please don’t pee there. husband already ate. i feed the baby. he’s still peeved. the house is a disaster. i played with them this morning. i fed them, clothed them, chased bugs and followed a bird around the yard for an hour just b/c they wanted to. i did two loads of laundry. i made eden take a nap a whole hour earlier, so i wouldn’t screw up this day. i thought i lost my purse, but i didn’t. the kids are all okay, even though we have to throw out a rocking horse. dinner is cooked and waiting for us on the counter. i try. i fail. everyday, i fail at something. i fail him. i fail them. i fail me. i wish grace lived here.

roasted chicken, veggie pasta, greek salad, and the kids want to eat a bowl of feta cheese for dinner. whatever. hubs leaves for class at church. baby is standing in the dishwasher. girls are watching a movie with their feta cheese, and the white flag waves higher. fabric sits untouched on the kitchen island. another day goes by that i don’t get any ‘work’ done. i clean the house. i fold the laundry. the kids won’t have to wear play clothes to bed tonight, b/c i actually got caught up today. finally.  isla walks up to me with three barbies in her arms. ‘thank you so much, mommy, for buying me this doll,’ she says with the most innocent excitement. she is referencing a ballerina that i brought home from a friend’s yard sale a year ago. ‘and thank you for buying me cinderella and thank you for buying me rapunzel too, mommy. thank you so much!’ she kisses me between each sentence, and i experience my tender moment number two.

as i pick up the last of the toys, the garage door sounds. has it been that long already? two hours past the kids’ bedtime. they need baths b/c they are covered in safflower oil and smell like cheese. i brace for the feeling again. fail. ‘no, i didn’t wait for you to put them to bed. i cleaned up the house. i folded the laundry.’ i bathe the baby and he takes over with the other two. i put eden to bed, and go to change ava’s sheets. the crew arrives, dons pjs, and we do our bedtime thing. isla first. i silently wet her blanket with tears as i quietly pray over her. she’s so little. she’s so pure, and i am messing this up royally. i kiss her and walk out, heading for ava. i kneel by her bedside, and she asks me to scratch her hand and then her back. her love language. i lay my head on the edge of her mattress and pray for her too. i feel so unworthy to pray, especially for these kids. i spent most of my day yelling and trying to rein them in. i scratch her back and ask her if i made her feel bad at all during the day. ‘yes.’ when? ‘when you spanked me.’ i figured. i ask her if i made her feel happy at all today. she pauses. she turns her head away and says, as if she is surprising even herself, ‘i don’t know. i don’t know when i was happy today.’ i don’t remind her of the popsicle or the baby bird. i just sit there and say the only thing i know how to say, ‘mommy’s sorry. we’ll try to have a happy day tomorrow.’

she’s nods and asks me to stay and scratch her back a little longer. tender moment number three. she gives me grace, even when i can’t give it to her, her sisters, her dad, or myself. she gives it. grace may not live here, but at least it visits us from time to time.

it’s quiet, the kids are sleeping, my legs and hands ache from a long day of barely standing still or sitting down, but i find myself wanting to be here, listening to audrey assad’s ‘lament’ on repeat, and pouring my own lament out onto this keyboard like telling my story will somehow prevent a bad day from ever happening again.

i’ve probably listened to it twenty times in a row just now, and it’s nearing 2am.  i’ll crawl into bed, hoping for double the tender moments tomorrow and praying that this song is the only thing on repeat.  xo

I’m Mary and I’m Martha all at the same time,
I’m sitting at His feet and yet I’m dying to be recognized,
I am a picture of contentment and I’m dissatisfied,
Why is it easy to work but hard to rest sometimes,
sometimes, sometimes

I’m restless, and I rustle like a thousand tall trees,
I’m twisting and I’m turning in an endless daydream,
You wrestle me at night and I wake in search of You,
but try as I might, I just can’t catch You,
But I want to, ’cause I need You, yes, I need You,
I can’t catch You, but I want to,

How long, how long until I’m home,
’cause I’m so tired, so tired of running,
How long until You come for me
’cause I’m so tired, so tired of running
I’m so tired, so tired of running
How long, how long until I’m home,
I’m so tired, so tired of running
How long until You come for me
’cause I’m so tired, so tired of running (X2)

{i originally shared this song in this post.}

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