So, the love of my life came home today, looked me in the eye, and apologized for being let go from his job. Can you say, "unprepared?" I have to admit that I am still numb from the shock of it all and I am not looking forward to the return of feeling tomorrow. There are so many questions that I don't even know how to begin to answer at this time. We have not told the boys. We actually don't know what to say to them.
I am reminded of this Sunday's sermon, preached by my husband, "Our Daily Bread." In a nutshell, he dealt with trusting the Lord instead of ourselves for our daily provision. I have recently started sharing tips on living our lives as a witness for Christ during the service. Wouldn't you know? The topic this week was releasing everything about yourself and your life to God, just letting go, and allowing Him to love you. The thought is, if you let Him shower you with his amazing love, it can't help but overflow and splash on your circumstances and all those around you. But we have to first let it all go so that we can make room for Him to do that.
So I'm trusting God. I told Him that I felt He could've chosen a less painful way to make us literally put our money where our mouth is, but I know that none of this is a surprise to Him. I'm trusting Him and giving this entire situation to Him and I will allow Him to love me as I learn to really love and depend on Him during all of this.
Please pray for my family. My goal is to bring the joy. To be the soft spot my husband needs to turn to if it gets to be too much. To be the smile my children see when they worry about their well-being.
In addition to my usual posts on my boys, homeschooling, and their crazy antics, I will also talk about the lessons I'm learning as we go through what I prayerfully hope to be a very short time of unemployment for my husband.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Moments in Boyland
After a wonderful family outing to Kita, our favorite local sushi restaurant, we all trampled into the house. The oldest two boys were sent up to their room to change into their pajamas while I put the baby to bed and my husband took care of the dog.
Not even ten seconds after entering their room, Stephen let out an ear-piercing scream and all I heard from Andrew is, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do it!" I swept poor Caden up off the changing table and into my arms, and ran as fast I could, with Chip not too far behind me. Entering the room, I skidded to a halt, quickly assessing the situation: blood pouring out of Stephen's mouth, down his beautiful plaid shirt, and onto the cream carpet. His brother standing there bug-eyed with fear (I don't think he's ever seen that much blood in real life). Blankets and throw pillows on the floor (not sure how that happened in less than ten seconds).
And then, everything came back into focus and the yelling began (I am not a perfect work). In the midst of the chaos, we learned that Andrew and Stephen were playing ninjas or some must-involve-bodily-contact boy game, when Andrew accidentally kicked Stephen in the mouth. Hence the wild-banshee screaming and blood. Lifting a quick prayer to Jesus for my baby's pearly whites, I cleaned him up, rinsed him out, and discovered a tiny gash on his tongue (salt water, store-brand mouthwash, and prayer work wonders). I haven't been that relieved in a long time...
Lessons learned by all:
Andrew: You really should pay attention to the disclaimer, "Do not try this at home"
Stephen: ALWAYS protect the face!
Mom and Dad: It usually looks worse than it really is.
Not even ten seconds after entering their room, Stephen let out an ear-piercing scream and all I heard from Andrew is, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do it!" I swept poor Caden up off the changing table and into my arms, and ran as fast I could, with Chip not too far behind me. Entering the room, I skidded to a halt, quickly assessing the situation: blood pouring out of Stephen's mouth, down his beautiful plaid shirt, and onto the cream carpet. His brother standing there bug-eyed with fear (I don't think he's ever seen that much blood in real life). Blankets and throw pillows on the floor (not sure how that happened in less than ten seconds).
And then, everything came back into focus and the yelling began (I am not a perfect work). In the midst of the chaos, we learned that Andrew and Stephen were playing ninjas or some must-involve-bodily-contact boy game, when Andrew accidentally kicked Stephen in the mouth. Hence the wild-banshee screaming and blood. Lifting a quick prayer to Jesus for my baby's pearly whites, I cleaned him up, rinsed him out, and discovered a tiny gash on his tongue (salt water, store-brand mouthwash, and prayer work wonders). I haven't been that relieved in a long time...
Lessons learned by all:
Andrew: You really should pay attention to the disclaimer, "Do not try this at home"
Stephen: ALWAYS protect the face!
Mom and Dad: It usually looks worse than it really is.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Hello...I'm back!
It has been a while since I lasted posted. I started this blog during a six month hiatus from my life, commonly referred to as bed rest. As I lay there during that time, I started contemplating what life after the arrival of the third Wicks man cub would be like. As I have predicted, it's been hectic, but also one great ride!
Now that I am beginning to get a handle on my schedule and new routine as the mother of three (count them...3!) wild boys, I believe (cross your fingers) that I am ready to return to this blogging thing. Stick around. There's more to come.
Now that I am beginning to get a handle on my schedule and new routine as the mother of three (count them...3!) wild boys, I believe (cross your fingers) that I am ready to return to this blogging thing. Stick around. There's more to come.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
This is My Job
I wasn't raised to live this way. I wasn't raised to make the life decisions that led me to the space and the place in which I now reside. I was not raised to be a stay-at-home mom. I most definitely was not raised to be a (dare I say it?) homeschooling mom.
And yet I am. Much to the chagrin of loved ones, friends, acquaintances, strangers, and even myself at times, I...am...a...homeschooling mom. This has not been easy for me. It is true that I was raised to believe that I could conquer the world. I was raised to believe that I could be anything I wanted to be. However, this did not include staying home and raising "some man's babies."
This has not been an easy decision. I know the broad shoulders on which I stand. I know what my family members, my people, and my gender have endured, and what glass ceilings had to be smashed so that I could enjoy all of these freedoms. I know, because of these struggles, what is owed for these freedoms. I am expected to repay through work as a lawyer, a doctor, a banker, or something else "very important." Let's be real: anything except staying home and teaching my children.
This is my job. There! I said it. I have done it all: stay-at-home mom, work-at-home mom, working mom, and now homeschooling mom. The only mom I have not been is a single mom! Yet, nothing feels more right for me and my family than what I am doing now.
And the pay is outstanding! It may not reap much monetarily, but I can't beat the benefits. First, there are the little boy giggles as they repeatedly try to sneak into my room to tell me good morning. It's seeing all of the firsts for myself. It's the hugs, kisses, and looks of wonder when they learn something new. Most satisfying is being able to help them bring every situation and lesson learned back to God and see how His story is our story every day of our lives. No one could ever pay me enough for this.
So, there....I said it. I am a home school mom...and I am learning to love it.
And yet I am. Much to the chagrin of loved ones, friends, acquaintances, strangers, and even myself at times, I...am...a...homeschooling mom. This has not been easy for me. It is true that I was raised to believe that I could conquer the world. I was raised to believe that I could be anything I wanted to be. However, this did not include staying home and raising "some man's babies."
This has not been an easy decision. I know the broad shoulders on which I stand. I know what my family members, my people, and my gender have endured, and what glass ceilings had to be smashed so that I could enjoy all of these freedoms. I know, because of these struggles, what is owed for these freedoms. I am expected to repay through work as a lawyer, a doctor, a banker, or something else "very important." Let's be real: anything except staying home and teaching my children.
This is my job. There! I said it. I have done it all: stay-at-home mom, work-at-home mom, working mom, and now homeschooling mom. The only mom I have not been is a single mom! Yet, nothing feels more right for me and my family than what I am doing now.
And the pay is outstanding! It may not reap much monetarily, but I can't beat the benefits. First, there are the little boy giggles as they repeatedly try to sneak into my room to tell me good morning. It's seeing all of the firsts for myself. It's the hugs, kisses, and looks of wonder when they learn something new. Most satisfying is being able to help them bring every situation and lesson learned back to God and see how His story is our story every day of our lives. No one could ever pay me enough for this.
So, there....I said it. I am a home school mom...and I am learning to love it.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Baton Passing
When I was growing up, I used to love to sit and listen to the family stories. Sometimes, it was Daddy sharing stories to eat up the miles as we headed home to New Orleans from Mobile. On other occasions, it was Mama, weaving tales of ten children and a small house in rural Louisiana. Stories of family pride, triumph, and hardship were passed down from Grandpa Leo and Grandma Pearl in their kitchen in Mobile.
I was blessed to know nine of my biological grandparents and great-grandparents. As a little girl, I was always aware of the broad shoulders on which I stood. As the child of parents who grew up on the tail end of the Civil Rights Movement, I became aware of my place in this world as a little African American girl growing up in the south. Because our family stories were told without malice, I learned how to love my fellow man while still being proud of my heritage.
I was fortunate to share some of that history with my Andrew (6) tonight after dinner. I don't know how it started, but I told him about the nine grands. Then, I pulled out the family album from the last reunion and we went over the pictures. We looked at Papa Jonah, who took care of his Native American mother deep in the swamps until her death. When he left those swamps, he married my Mama Sweetie (Annie Bell) and they raised their children on a farm. Mama Sweetie lost her eye at the age of nine, picking cotton in the cotton fields. There were other stories of courage and heroism. I saw the light of family pride flare up in my oldest child's eyes as he too became aware of the shoulders on which he stands. There are more stories and I can't wait to continue to pass on the rich oral traditions of my family.
I was blessed to know nine of my biological grandparents and great-grandparents. As a little girl, I was always aware of the broad shoulders on which I stood. As the child of parents who grew up on the tail end of the Civil Rights Movement, I became aware of my place in this world as a little African American girl growing up in the south. Because our family stories were told without malice, I learned how to love my fellow man while still being proud of my heritage.
I was fortunate to share some of that history with my Andrew (6) tonight after dinner. I don't know how it started, but I told him about the nine grands. Then, I pulled out the family album from the last reunion and we went over the pictures. We looked at Papa Jonah, who took care of his Native American mother deep in the swamps until her death. When he left those swamps, he married my Mama Sweetie (Annie Bell) and they raised their children on a farm. Mama Sweetie lost her eye at the age of nine, picking cotton in the cotton fields. There were other stories of courage and heroism. I saw the light of family pride flare up in my oldest child's eyes as he too became aware of the shoulders on which he stands. There are more stories and I can't wait to continue to pass on the rich oral traditions of my family.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Introducing......
The Wicks family! I'm Trina, proud homeschooling mom and wife. I am married to Andrew, a wonderful man of God, and we are raising two little man cubs, Andrew (6) and Stephen (18 mos). We are happy to be homeschoolers. With this blog, I hope to write about the joys and trials of raising, loving, and teaching around all of this testosterone!
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