It is probably no secret that I have hit a blogging slump in the past couple months.  I go through them just like any other blogger.  It is really hard to find content that is interesting enough to write about every day when you life is relatively normal and probably not that interesting to others anyway.  And periodically, I get tired of trying to find the nuances to write about and I take a little break.  Usually it’s a couple of days.  Maybe a week.  After some really difficult times (like the death of my dad), it was maybe up to two weeks.  But this time, I can’t seem to shake it.

Blogging is a strange beast.  When you first begin, you have to blog your brains out on a regular basis to grow your audience.  It is no wonder that most blogs never take on a large, consistent following when you understand how much work goes into what appears to be a very simple task.  But anyone who blogs knows that it is daunting at best, draining at worst, and just darn overwhelming on a regular basis.  Deciding what useless information will be the most appealing to a wide audience, taking the time to find the right words to articulate your thoughts, and then having enough pictures on hand to document the story is not something that just comes together quickly.  I’d say it takes me about an hour a post, at least.   And when you start to add in multiple blog pages within one blog, and multiple posts a day…  well, it can become un-fun really quickly.

I have been blessed with a loyal and ever-growing readership in the past few years.  To some, this is great because it means more pageviews (and, therefore, more money if you’re making money off your blog, like me).  But to me, I see more readership as an incentive because the pressure to blog every day is taken away.  In the past two years, it hasn’t mattered if I blog once a day, every day, or once every week, my readership numbers stay the same.  For that, I am so very, very grateful to you all.  Thank you for coming back, whether I am here or not.  It is wonderful to know how loyal my imaginary friends are.  It makes my heart happy.

Still, though, even with the pressure of the everyday obligation gone, I try to blog at least three or four times a week.  And normally, that’s okay with me.  I look forward to blogging because writing is very cathartic to me.  It is cleansing and helps me organize my thoughts and feelings.  Sometimes, I write entire blog posts about things I didn’t even know were on my mind.  That is a wonderful thing.

But lately, blogging has become more chore-like than ever before.  For the first time in the five years (or is it six?) that I have been blogging, it has weighed on me like a responsibility.  Another ball to juggle.  Another task to check off.  And when it becomes a job, the feeling goes out of it.

For the past month, I have tossed around the idea of stopping.  Maybe it was time.  My kids are growing up and taking more of my waking hours now (as they rightly should).  My job is taking on several more responsibilities that take more of my time and attention.  Chris and I are making slightly more money this year, and we might be able to finagle a way to live without the money my blog produces for our family.  It just seemed like this might be the right time to stop.

As I am prone to do, I began praying over my blog.  Every day for the past two weeks, I have prayed for guidance and direction about my blog.  What does it do?  Is it serving a purpose?  What is the point?  I sometimes pour my heart out and get very little response for posts considering how many people are reading.  And that’s fine.  This isn’t about you all, and you have been nothing but supportive of me in our imaginary shared world.  But what was the point of me taking all this time and attention and spreading the guts of our family out on the imaginary table for people to poke, prod, and judge?  And so I prayed that if there was a purpose, that God would show it to me and give me the perseverance to carry on.  Or, if there wasn’t a purpose anymore, or if the blog had run it’s course, I prayed that he would give me the strength to gracefully walk away.

And then came the flood of emails.  I get reader emails every day, and I love them.  I don’t have time to respond to many of them (sooooo sorry!!!!!!), but I read them all and love receiving them.  But this week, the emails have been insane, and I know they have been heaven sent.  Filling my inbox to the brim with kindness and love and warmth and community and sisterhood and encouragement and peace and strength and all those good things that really good people bring into your life.  It wasn’t so important what those emails said.  What was important was that it reminded me that I am connected to people through this blog.  And that doesn’t mean that I have any more influence over anyone than any of you have.  It just means I have this amazing opportunity to speak to others, to reach others, to give words to others.  What a gift.  What a blessing.  What a responsibility!

If blogging has taught me anything, it is that we all share a voice.  Sometimes, it just so happens that there’s just one person with the actual megaphone in front of them, but really, we’re all saying something similar.  I hear what you say to me.  You hear what I say to you.  And even when we disagree, it is usually a matter of semantics because we all want the same things.  We want to be good wives and husbands, good moms and dads, good friends, good citizens, good people.  We want to serve something higher than ourselves, and reach for things beyond our grasp.  And if I have the privilege of holding the megaphone for a while, then much how richer is my life?

My blog will continue, but with some changes coming over the next few months.  Changes that will help me manage this giant megaphone so that it doesn’t drown out other areas of my life, and changes that I am hoping you all will enjoy, too.  But whether it stays the same or changes or grows or fades away, it is my blessing to be here with you, and I am grateful that you’ve invited me into your imaginary lives.

So, I have a parenting issue going on right now.  It is complex.  It is complicated.  It is multifaceted.  It is perplexing.  Such is the social life of an almost four-year-old.

(sigh)

Bean has two “best friends.”  One is a legit bestie.  He talks about her at home, we hang out with her family, Bean might be in love with her.  Her name is Elle and she is lovely.  The two of them fight like an old married couple, but it is all very normal, healthy behavior for their age.

And then there is this other kid.

I am fairly certain that Bean is only this dude’s friend because he is being forced to be his friend.  True, Bean likes to hang out with him.  But from the interactions I have seen, it is more of a “I’m-smiling-because-you-scare-me” kind of friendship.  The kid himself is always in Bean’s face, always talking/yelling/screeching in Bean’s face, always putting his hands on Bean’s face.  He is just one of those face-talkers.  Well, face-yellers.  And it drives Bean crazy.  I know this because when I am around the two of them, Bean will give me these pleading looks like, “Make him stop, please!”

Now, those are personality traits in a child, and I know more than to judge or throw my mom weight around because of something like that.  In the grand scheme of things, those are annoyances and not behavior issues.

But then he crossed the line.

A few weeks ago, we were at a birthday party for one of the kids’ classmates.  The other kid was there and so was his mom, and Bean was hanging out with him pretty much all day.  This was the first time I had really gotten to see them interact, and it was the first time I noticed this annoying in-Bean’s-face behavior.  It was driving me nuts, and I could tell it was bothering Bean, too.  But I had never seen them interact for a long period of time before, so I sort of stood back in case this was normal behavior.  I was just keeping my eye on things.

I happened to be talking to the kid’s mom for a minute, and when I turned back around, this kid had his hands around Bean’s neck and was shaking Bean.  Bean, of course, was crying.

…And that’s when I almost beat that kid up.

I try to be a very polite person who respects other parents and gives the a chance to intervene when their child is misbehaving.  But you put your hands around my kid’s neck and we’re going to have some words.

I pushed about 15 kids out of my way in about 15 seconds, and very quickly pulled the kid’s hands off of Bean.  Then, as I pulled Bean into my arms to comfort him (he was pretty freaked), I said very nicely, but firmly to the other child, “Michael doesn’t like it when you put your hands around his neck.”

That Monday after the birthday party, I mentioned what happened to Bean’s teachers.  I had this terrible fear that they would be on some corner of a playground somewhere and that kid would accidentally strangle Bean. I told the teacher that I would appreciate it if they would watch for any kind of aggressive or overly zealous behavior from that kid directed towards Michael.  Even if the kid wasn’t intending to be aggressive in a mean way, I still didn’t want Bean to feel overpowered or uncomfortable – no matter what someone’s intention are.

Weeks have gone by since that birthday party, and Bean has continued to talk about his “best fwend.”  He never says anything bad about this child, and seems to really enjoy hanging out with him.  But last night we went to science night at the kids’ daycare, and this other kid was there with his mom.  I couldn’t help but notice that the kid was still all over Bean.  He had his hands all over his face, was kissing his face, and was pushing all these toys and things into his face whenever Bean would try to move on to something else or talk to someone else.

Bean gave me that look again that said, “Help me!” and then I think I made a mistake.  I smiled at Bean and said, “It’s okay, Buddy.”  And I didn’t do anything about it.

All night I have been thinking about what I said.  The truth is that it is NOT alright for a child to be all over Bean.  It is NOT alright for Bean to have to put up with behavior that bothers him.  It is NOT alright to pretend that something is okay when it clearly is something Bean is uncomfortable with.  I don’t want to be the parent who is overly protective or overly involved in my kids friendships.  But more importantly than that, I don’t want to be the parent who teaches my children to endure what they are uncomfortable with for the sake of being polite.  Because, God forbid, this was a situation where something was inappropriate and uncomfortable, I don’t want Bean to grow up thinking he has to be “okay” with anything that makes him uncomfortable.

This afternoon, I talked to Bean’s teachers again and said that Michael was feeling a bit overwhelmed by this enthusiastic child and he was uncomfortable with someone’s hands in his face or someone kissing his face or shoving toys in his face.  I asked that the teachers remind the kids to keep their hands to themselves, and to keep an eye on Bean and this kid to make sure that even though Bean might SAY he was okay, that they help him keep a comfortable distance from any child if he wanted some space.

Then, I came home and talked to Bean.  I told him that last night when I said that it was okay for that kid to put his hands all over Bean’s face, I was wrong.  And that it wasn’t okay.  I explained that when someone is doing something that we don’t like, it is okay to say, “Stop doing that!  I don’t like it!” And then we practiced that a few times, which Bean thought was hysterical.  Then we talked about how he should tell his teacher if someone kept bothering him after he asked them to stop, and we practiced talking to the teacher.  He came in from our chat and walked right up to Chris and announced, “Dad, I don’t have to let people bother me.  I can tell them to stop doing that because I don’t like it!”

I’m a pretty laid back person, I think.  It takes a lot to rattle me, and I try not to rattle other people.  But as a parent, I am learning.  I’m learning to speak up for my child and to say, “Hey, this bothers me. Stop doing that.  I don’t like it.”  I need to learn to say that so I can empower my child to say it, too.  My mom told me one time that being polite doesn’t mean you have to be passive.  You don’t have to sit there while something goes on that you don’t agree with or that really bothers you.  As a parent, I can speak up.  And in speaking up, my children learn to speak up for themselves.  Isn’t that what we want?  We want our children to grow up knowing they have a voice.  A voice to speak out, a voice to share, a voice to encourage, but also a voice to set boundaries and to hold their own when they need.

Then again, if I just beat up every kid that bothers him, Bean won’t really need a voice at all.

But I guess that isn’t the point…

So, a few weeks ago, I was sitting in my kitchen, enjoying a few glasses of wine, and flipping through my school calendar.  Suddenly, I realized that 8th grade day was coming up soon.  Our school does a big 8th grade celebration day at the end of every year.  All 8th grade students and teachers get to skip classes all day and participate in a lot of really fun activities.  There is free time outside, where you can knock teachers into the dunk tanks, play basketball, dance to music on the blacktop, throw water balloons at people, or just hang out.

(Though, this year the dunk tank was not quite so “dunk” or “tank.” Not sure what happened there. But it was still pretty terrible for the teachers and pretty funny for the students, so I guess that’s a win.)

Then, we come inside for a game show in the gym.  That is a lot of fun.  Then we head to lunch, and after lunch there is the 8th grade talent show.

And that’s when it hit me – WE SHOULD DANCE IN THE TALENT SHOW!  I drank a few more glasses of wine while I came up with my plan, and by 11:00 that night, I was ready to go.  And slightly drunk.

I went to school the next day and immediately recruited one of my favorite teachers who is young, fun, and (most importantly in this situation) a leader.  I figured if I got her to agree, the rest would follow.  AND THEY DID!  All in all, I recruited 12 teachers to dance with me.  And not just any dance.  We were going to learn Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” dance.

So, we began to have rehearsals after and before school for the two weeks leading up to the talent show.  It was hysterical!  I loved it!

By the day of the talent show, three of our dancers had dropped out (wimps…you know who you are…). That left nine of us. And we were ready! Or, at least THEY were. Somehow, I was voted to stand in the front because this was my idea. But that was a terrible idea because I didn’t know the dance very well, and because when I get nervous, I turn into a 2nd grader.

EXHIBIT A:

My nervous default is to just dance. “When it doubt, dance it out,” I tell my students. And this was no exception. What a fun place to work! What an awesome job to have! What amazing people to work with! I’m a lucky girl.

This is the view from the yard up to the house. You can see that you come out the back door, and then step down three very large, gradual steps to a large platform.

That large area will eventually get railing around it, and will hold our grill. There is also room for a little cafe table with two chairs up there, too.

You then come down a flight of large, gradual stairs to the main deck level. I love these stairs. I think I’m going to put lots of potted plants on them near the house. Wouldn’t that be cute with bright colored flower pots?

You can also see in that picture above that the built-in bench seating begins on one of those stairs and wraps around the ground-level of the deck. The bench seating will line the back wall of the house (it isn’t quite finished yet), and will have storage underneath for our pool toys and things. Not to mention, it gives us so much more room to seat people.

One of the things I am most excited about is this little area next to the steps. It is unfinished right now, but Chris will finish it this weekend. It was this odd area of space that we couldn’t figure out what to do with. Finally, we decided to use this as the place where the kids’ splash table will live now. I love this because it means that whenever we want to use the splash table, we don’t have to trek out into the backyard. We can just come out on the deck and the kids can go to town while I lounge around. I think we will use the splash table so much more if it is easily accessible. We have also talked about putting an umbrella over this area so the kids are playing in the shade. Still working through that idea, though.

The front of the deck still needs to be finished and made all pretty-like, but you get the idea. I am super happy with how it is coming along. And let me tell you, I have new respect for Chris and his crafty mind. Building a custom deck like this is crazy complex, mostly because there are so many stairs! He came up with this really complicated build plan, and his amazingly kind friends have really just made it happen. I am so grateful!

We celebrated that there was an actual deck to sit on Saturday night with hamburgers and beer. We broke the deck in with lots of laughs, good conversation, and great friends. It has officially been christened, and we are ready for summer!

…just as soon as we get some handrails.

A few weeks ago, Almay sent me a few products to review for them. This could not have come at a better time for me for the following reasons: A) I always switch makeup when the seasons change. My skin changes as I am outside more in the spring/summer months, so my makeup has to change, too. B) I have recently run out of my department store brand makeup, and have been contemplating using makeup that doesn’t require me to hoof it to the mall, but I was worried I would sacrifice quality.

Turns out, Almay settled both those concerns. The makeup they sent me had me a little nervous. Normally, I used a pressed powder instead of foundation make up because I find foundation to be a little too thick and “made up” looking. But what they sent was a mousse-based foundation, and it was exactly like a mousse that you eat or put in your hair (never confused those two kinds, by the way…) – it was light and airy, and provided a nice medium coverage. Perfect for when you want to look dressed up, but not made up. It went on smoothly, and didn’t feel thick or made up all day. In fact, I asked Chris after I was all done up if I looked any different, and he studied my face for a while and then said, “What am I supposed to be looking for because nothing looks different to me.” And that’s when my bank account cried out, “Hallelujah!” because Almay is considerably more affordable than what I was paying and, apparently, does just what my old stuff did.

What I loved most about this mousse foundation was that it was gray when I opened it! I stared at it and thought, “Did they send me a messed up product?” I’m embarrassed to even admit this, but I actually dug my finger down all the way to the bottom of the pot to see if there was color on the bottom! I was sure mine was defective. But it turns out that this particular foundation adjusts to your skin tone when it is put on. I have always been skeptical of make up that claims to do this, but it actually did it! I smeared it gray on my face, and by the time I started gently rubbing it around, it had taken on my own skin tone. It went on light and thin, though, and really just evened out my skin tone instead of covering my skin heavily. You could even see my freckles, which is my true test of a good makeup product. If it covers my freckles, then it’s too thick.

Almay also sent me this beautiful bronzer. I don’t know about you, but I prefer a bronzer to a blush because of the natural coverage. It just looks more “sun-kissed” than “sun-burned” to me. And as a natural redhead, I definitely know the difference! What I liked about the bronzer especially was that it stayed on all day. I checked on it at lunch and when I got home, and it still looked great. Major points for me because I have my hands on my face all day, either pushing hair out of my way or resting my chin in my hand. I’m a face-toucher, but this bronzer didn’t seem to mind at all. I liked this bronzer better than the one I currently buy because it is also a “smart shade” product, so it adapts itself to your coloring. I was really impressed with it. It looked so natural, even in daylight.

Now that I am sufficiently made up, it’s time to go find my husband and demand a date night. I never feel better on a date than when I’m wearing something new that makes me feel pretty, and it was Almay for the win this time

Check out Almay’s website for more information about their products and don’t forget to like Almay on Facebook!

So, what’s your go-to date night look?  Answer this question below, and each comment will automatically be entered to win a $100 Visa gift card!

No duplicate comments.

You may receive (2) total entries by selecting from the following entry methods:

1. Leave a comment in response to the sweepstakes prompt on this post
2. Tweet (public message) about this promotion; including exactly the following unique term in your tweet message: “#SweepstakesEntry”; and leave the URL to that tweet in a comment on this post
3. Blog about this promotion, including a disclosure that you are receiving a sweepstakes entry in exchange for writing the blog post, and leave the URL to that post in a comment on this post
4. For those with no Twitter or blog, read the official rules to learn about an alternate form of entry.

This giveaway is open to US Residents age 18 or older. Winners will be selected via random draw, and will be notified by e-mail. You have 72 hours to get back to me, otherwise a new winner will be selected.

The Official Rules are available here.

This sweepstakes runs from 5/16/13-6/16/13.

Be sure to visit the Almay brand page on BlogHer.com where you can read other bloggers’ reviews and find more chances to win!

First, I changed the type of pool bag I have.  I used to carry the traditional fabric oversized beach bag, but I never found one I liked.  They were never big enough to hold all my towels, and even the vinyl ones had to be hung out to dry if they got wet.  And they ALWAYS got wet.  This year I am using a large plastic tote from Old Tyme Pottery.  If you don’t have an OTP near you, then I feel sorry for you, but I’m sure you can find something comparable or even the same from Walmart or Target (though I haven’t seen them at my Target).  At OTP, this giant doozey of a tote cost $4.99.  That’s right.  A pool bag for less than $5! I also like this bag because it is lightweight and because it has a flat bottom, so it never spills over in my car.

This year, I decided to keep my pool bag packed and ready to go all the time. Rather than having to pack a pool bag every single day or rather than having to drag a thousand things outside every time we wanted to go out to the pool, I keep my pool bag packed and ready. Here are the things I always have in my pool bag:

1. Hats for the kids to keep the sun off of their face.  For wee little ones, you can get hats with UV protection, like Bean has here.  But I keep them pretty covered with sunblock, so I opted this year to get Gracie a cowgirl hat instead.

2. Sunglasses for each of the kids. I try to get the kind with UV protection.

3. All kinds of suntan lotion. I have a little of the WaterBabies left, but I’m not crazy about that brand because it never seems to stay on for long and it goes on pretty thick. What I use religiously on the kids is Coppertone Kids Broad Spectrum 50. It sprays the best! You don’t have to rub it in, and it isn’t greasy. I have Banana Boat SPF 15 tanning oil for me, but I use the kids stuff on my face.

4. Goggles. These are new for the kids this year, and so far they love them. In fact, I can’t get them to take them off long enough to even take a picture of them! They use these in the pool, but still like to have them handy at the splash park, mostly because they are still a novelty, I think.

5. Crocs for the kids. These are the BEST summer shoes. They are durable beyond belief, and I love them because they can get wet and never look any different. They don’t shrivel up like those cheap flip flops, do. Plus, they are easier for my kids to wear because they don’t like things between their toes. I also like them because they can be worn with bathing suits in place of flip flops, or even with shorts and t-shirts for playing. Bean has even worn his with khaki shorts and a polo to church. They are a little pricey, but we get one pair at the beginning of the summer and they has until fall. I buy them about half a size too big and use the strap on the back for the first part of the summer. Then when their feet grow into them a little bit, you can flip the flap up and make them backless. This gets me almost two sizes worth of wear out of them.

6. (Not pictured) An extra swim diaper for Gracie, just in case she has an accident in hers while we are out and needs to change.

7. Bubbles. Inevitably, when we are at the splash park, one of my kids wants to stay and one wants to leave. I’ve learned to keep bubbles handy for the one who wants to leave. I can usually convince them to hang out for 15 or 20 minutes longer with bubbles while the other one plays. Plus, bubbles are much easier to use when you’re around water because the kids can spill them and it isn’t the end of the world. They also help make friends when we are out because everyone loves bubbles!

Because this bag stays packed with all our essentials all the time, I can simply toss in beach towels and a snack and we are on our way. For the snack, I keep juice boxes frozen in our freezer, and toss those in with a bag of Goldfish. By the time we have been outside for a while, the juice boxes have melted and they are nice and cold. And the Goldfish we just eat straight out of the bag. I used to pack individual snacks in little Tupperware containers, but that got to be such a time drain. Now, we eat out of the bag. Just. Like. Animals.

The key to keeping it packed and ready to go is cleaning it out when we get home. But since everything stays in the bag, there really isn’t much to do when we get home. I take out the towels and hang them out to dry, clean out any remnants of a snack if we’ve had one while we were out, and then toss any wet clothes we might have collected that day into the dirty clothes hamper. It takes about two minutes. Then, I put the refreshed bag back in our front closet and it’s ready to go for our next outing.

Keeping a pool bag packed has saved us so much time, and a lot of stress, too. It is no longer such an ordeal to go anywhere. In fact, one afternoon after school this week we came home and the kids asked to go to the splash park. All we had to do was put on bathing suits and grab our bag, and we were out the door. Even a school night can become a splash park day now because we have streamlined our system.

Oh, wait!

Do you hear that?

What’s that noise?

IT’S SUMMERTIME KNOCKING ON MY DOOR!

I turned 30 in December. I was actually really excited about it. I figured not much would change. Truthfully, we had been living beyond our years for quite a while, and I figured by turning 30 I was really just catching up with the 30-something lifestyle we had. And that has been true. Not much around me has changed since I turned 30. My life is largely the same as it was when I was 29. Lately, though, I’ve noticed small changes in myself. Little things that always make me stop and think, “Well, I AM 30…”

Superficially, I’ve noticed that I am 30 in my appearance. For the first time in my life, I am wearing my hair straight every single day. My whole life I have believed that because I had thick, naturally curly hair, it was impossible to do anything with it. Plus, I am pretty lazy. So, I just washed my hair and let it naturally dry. And get frizzy. And big. But a few months ago, my sister introduced me to Moroccan oil for my hair and my life has never been the same. I can now wash and straighten my hair every other day, rub a little Moroccan oil in it, and – voila! – it stays straight and smooth for days! I think it makes me look older, and bit more put together than my crazy curly hair did. I always looked a bit like a college kid who had slept past her alarm, and now I think it is a bit more polished. And that makes me feel 30 years old.

I am also noticing what other 30-something women are wearing around me and, for the first time in my life, I am not put off by it. My shorts have become a smidge longer. My shirts have become a tad looser. My shoes have become a bit more practical. Personally, I still think I look young and even cute on some days. It’s not that I have ever dressed inappropriately (except for that one time in college that I wore jeans to a meeting when everyone else was in a suit…), but I’m just not in my 20′s anymore. My clothing has a different purpose and different needs. I don’t need short shorts. I need shorts that I can get on the floor and play with my kids in. I don’t need a tank top that shows off my tan. I need a shirt that won’t bunch up or hang open when I bend over a stroller. I don’t need shoes that make my legs look longer. I need shoes that will hold up throughout a day of teaching, and afternoon of chasing my kids, and an evening of running around the neighborhood. I used to think to have those kinds of functional clothes, I had to give up the cuteness and instead had to look frumpy. But that’s not true. I can still look cute. It’s just in way more comfortable and age-appropriate clothes.

Another thing that turning 30 has done for me is opened up the “who the heck cares” side of my brain. I love to sing and dance, but I am equally as bad at both. But who the heck cares? I now sing and dance all day long in my classroom. I sing and dance while I run. I sing and dance when I’m driving my car. If I feel the need, I sing and dance no matter who’s around to see. Same goes for how often I blog. This one I have struggled with because I do loves me some blogging. But I’ve been blogging on almost a daily basis – often more than one post a night – for over five years. And who the heck cares if I don’t get a post up one night? Or two? Or even seven? The world isn’t going to end without my daily rantings. I was doing things like turning down plans with friends because I knew I hadn’t blogged the night before, so I needed to blog that night. Or I would spend almost every evening with my face in a computer screen while Chris sat by himself watching TV. Now, I sit with him and we read or talk or watch TV together. And who the heck cares? I blog and you all graciously keep coming back. And, oh how glad I am that you are here, imaginary friends! But I am willing to bet that the universe will continue if I slack up on my blogging.

Along the same lines, I am cutting myself some slack in areas where I have always been really hard on myself, and I’m learning to say no. The other day, I sat in a meeting where they were looking for a volunteer to do something really simple and I literally had to BITE MY TONGUE – for real – to keep from speaking out. But I didn’t, and I left that meeting feeling really good about that. I am learning that just because I CAN do something doesn’t always means I SHOULD do something. Taking on something new may seem easy and small, but when I take on 50 easy and small tasks, I am suddenly overwhelmed and I don’t do anything well. Same thing with birthday parties from Bean’s class at school. He gets a ton of invitations to birthday parties these days, and you would think, “Well, it’s just a birthday party…” But one birthday party means buying one present, figuring out which parent is going to stay home with Gracie and which is going to go with Bean, and then giving up at least the afternoon. And every once in a while that isn’t so terrible, but do it every weekend and it can become draining very quickly. So, now we only RSVP to parties of kids that Bean talks about at home a lot. And I don’t feel guilty about that. I mean, I AM 30, you know…

I don’t know if these things are tied to being in my 30′s now or not. Maybe it is just a shift in perspective I’ve had lately. Or maybe I’ve reach some kind of limit on my self expectations and so I’m finally giving myself permission to lower them. Whatever it is, it has given me some real peace of mind. I’m sleeping better, laughing more, and feeling good.

My Grandma is in her 80′s and is still a world traveling, charity volunteering, card playing, department store shopping, cake baking machine. We all have a hard time keeping up with her pace, and she is forever telling us, “You’re only as old as you feel.” If she is right (and she usually is), then I am loving the feeling of 30.

Once a year, I want a picture with my kids.  Just once.  Just with the kids.  On Mother’s Day, when we’re all dressed up for church and looking pretty, I always ask Chris to take just one picture of me with the kiddos.

Following is what happened after I made that request this year:

Okay, here we go…

No, wait. Bean has powdered doughnut all over his face.

Okay, let’s try again without any doughnuts in the picture.

Gracie really wanted her doughnut.

Bean sees a lizard. And he has managed to get his doughnut back.

And now we’ve lost Bean to the lizard hunt.

So, for the third year in a row, I have a beautiful Mother’s Day picture…

…with my husband.

Well, friends.  I hope you had as lovely a Mother’s Day weekend as I did.  Whether you celebrated with your mom, gave thanks for being a mom, grieved the loss of a mom, were hoping to be a mom, or simply spent time thinking about the mom-like women in your life, I hope your day was full of warm, fond thoughts and surrounded by the people who mean the most to you.  I know mine was.

We went to early church, like always.  I love how my church celebrates Mother’s Day.  It is a day that celebrates women in general, and it is lovely.  About a month before Mother’s Day, they have photographers all over the church campus.  They are at church services, Sunday School, Bible studies, and any kind of event the church is having, and they take pictures of mothers and women.  Then, when you get to church on Mother’s Day, they have strung ribbon all down the hallways and in the courtyard in our church and attached all those pictures to them.  So, you spend the morning with a cup of coffee, walking through the church grounds, looking at pictures of mothers and women from our congregation.  It is really beautiful, and makes you so thankful to be part of that community and surrounded by those women.

After church, we met Sarah and her family up at our favorite breakfast place for brunch.  It was Sarah’s first Mother’s Day, and I was so glad we were able to spend it together.  We’ve been best friends since we were in 6th grade.  I think we’ve shared just about every major milestone in our lives together, and this one was by far one of my favorites.

After lunch, we headed home and in about 3.6 seconds, we were all in our bathing suits and out in the pool. This was our first weekend in the pool this year, and it was wonderful! I absolutely love summer, and being in the pool every day is one of the best parts.

That afternoon, we all took a big, long nap, and when we woke up the whole family came grocery shopping with me. Chris reasoned that if I had to do household stuff on Mother’s Day, then they would all do it with me. Normally, I would rather get a good swift kick in the shin before we all went together, but somehow Mother’s Day made it better…

I’m thankful this Mother’s Day that I get to be Michael and Gracie’s momma. I’m thankful for the sweet husband who made me their momma. I’m thankful for my own mother who taught me how to be a momma. I’m thankful for all those women in my life who have taught, shaped, and molded me as any momma would.

Motherhood is a funny business, and the more experience I have with it, the more convinced I am that motherhood is not just about our children. It is about living a life for someone else. Motherhood is about being willing, even when we don’t feel we are able. It is about serving, even when we don’t know quite how to serve.  It is about saying yes when everyone else avoids the question.  It is about stepping up to the plate, and swinging the bat.  It is about showing up.  Motherhood is about healing wounds with love, feeding bellies with food, and filling hearts with kindness.  It is caring without reason, cause, justification, or reward.

No, motherhood isn’t all about our children. It is something that is inside of us that calls us to live a life we do not deserve; a life we are not worthy to live.

Such is the joy of motherhood.

“As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” 

Joshua 24:15  

But tonight, as I sit in my living room after a fulfilling day at my job, which I am fortunate enough to get to go back to tomorrow, I am reminded of a student who amazed me last week.

You aren’t supposed to have favorites as a teacher.  I love all my students.  Really.  I love them.  But there are some that I just connect with more than others.  Students that I understand, and even some that I admire.  Like Adrian.  Adrian is a smaller Hispanic kid.  Funny, smart, quick as anything, and still humble and respectful.  He’s one of those kids who knows just how far he can push a teacher until that’s enough, and then he reins it in and gives me a break.  I love kids like Adrian.

So, last week, Adrian comes up to me in the hallway before class started.

“Mrs. Brown,” he said, smiling so much that I thought he might hurt himself.  “I need your help.”

“Sure.  Whatcha need?” I replied.

“I need you to stop Meghan when she comes into class so I can ask her to the 8th grade dance.”

I tried not to get overly excited here because the key to staying cool to a middle schooler is to act like nothing impresses you.  So, I laughed and coolly said, “Meghan, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said blushing.

“That’s cool,” I said, yawning just to prove that I was cool enough to not care too much.  “I like Meghan.”

“Yeah,” he said blushing a little more.  “I do, too.”

About that time, Meghan starts getting close to my classroom, and Adrian started giggling this silly, stupid, middle-school girl giggle.

“Dude,” I whispered.  “Pull it together!”

“Oh, right,” he said, wiping the smile off his face and instantly looking calmer and happy-go-lucky like his normal self.

“Hey, Meghan, ” I said as she neared my door.  “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Meghan (a super fun, confident girl herself) got that panicked look all students get when a teacher asks to talk to them.  But before she could get too nervous, Adrian jumped in.

“No!” he shouted, taking Meghan by the shoulders and turning her so that she faced him.  “You have to face me.  I’m the one whose talking.”  And then he started that silly giggle again, and I shot him a warning look with my eyes that said, “Get it together, man!”  He pulled himself up tall…well, as tall as short Adrian could muster… and he said, “Meghan, will you go to the 8th grade dance with me?”

I sat in my chair by the door pretending not to watch, but smiling like a big fool myself.  This is the stuff childhood memories are made of, and I was witnessing one right this minute.

Meghan nervously turned to see if I was watching, and I continued picking my fingernails and being very interested in my cuticles.  Finally, she turned back to Adrian and said, “Ummm… No?”

It really was more of a question than a statement.  You could tell she didn’t want to say no, but that her middle school girl brain just calculated Adrian’s coolness factor against every other person ever in existence in the Universe, and made a snap judgment.  “Not cool enough.  Must say no.”

Meghan hightailed it into the classroom, where you could hear the entire class buzzing with the excitement of a fresh rejection.  Middle schoolers smell blood and congregate faster than any other species on earth, if you didn’t know.

Adrian stood there next to me for a minute.

“Sorry, buddy,” I said, kind of laughing, pushing on his shoulder good-naturedly.  “She was probably just nervous.”

He stood there for a split second longer, and then did the most amazing act of bravery I may have ever seen.  He threw open my classroom door, walked into the room with his arms stretched out above his head, and announced, “WELL, GUYS!  SHE SAID NO!  NOW, WHO WANTS TO BE MY DATE?”

Resilience.  I’m surrounded by people with inspirational amount of resilience.  My mom, being chief among them.  And Adrian coming in a mighty close second.  People who take a minute to say, “Gosh, that really SUCKED.”  And then, without fail, in the most horrific situations, pick themselves up and move forward.  It’s the reason my mom is leaving for a month in Europe this week for a vacation just because she can.  It’s the reason Adrian has gone on to find SEVERAL dates for the 8th grade dance.  And it’s the reason my friend, Gary, went home this morning and instantly began sending out resumes.

Resilience.  The ability to face the unfaceable, embrace the unimaginable, and regroup the unplanned.  Of all the superpowers, that’s a pretty damn good one to have.