Life Change Challenge

So here's the deal.  I am tired of knowing what I need to do to take my life to the next level and not doing it.  It's almost embarrassing because they really are just very basic things.  So, I'm making one small lifestyle change each week in order to become the type of wife, mother, and daughter of the King that I keep saying I want to be.

Here are the changes I've made so far:

Week 1:
I got the boys back on a sleep schedule so that I could get enough sleep.  They have always been on a great schedule, but I made a rookie mistake and allowed them to stay up late when family came to visit from Minnesota.  It has been unbelievably difficult to get them back on track.

If I didn't know better, I would say it was a conspiracy.  Seriously.  Every night, without fail, at least one of them will stay up in their beds until at least 11.  Yet, they still wake up at the crack of dawn.  Who does that? Children who are plotting against their parents for household domination.  That's who.

Week 2:
I trained the boys to stay in their rooms until I come get them in the mornings.  This means I am no longer risking personal bodily injury if I hear the two year old and four year old wandering around while I'm trying to take my shower.  I also spared myself from the (ahem!) creative breakfast concoctions my 9 year old likes to sneak down to the kitchen to prepare for me.  The boy gets very creative with cold foods.  See conspiracy theory above.  A dramatic decrease in stress levels is an added bonus. 
 
Now, I'm rolling into Week 3.
This week, I am focusing on going to bed no later than 10 and waking up no later than 6:30.  This is huge, because I have not made my personal sleep needs a priority in over nine years.   I am a third generation night owl and it has been very hard to switch over my sleep patterns with the increased responsibilities of motherhood.  How many of you know that little ones do not care if Mommy stayed up until 3:00 in the morning because she's convinced herself that she is most productive in the middle of the night? Yeah...I told myself that lie, too.  I believe that this one change is going to be the catalyst for effective change in the overall quality of my life.  It has to be! 

I want to get the basics down so that hopefully I can put those on autopilot and focus on the other more creative pursuits I would like to add on to my life. I have this really bad habit of jumping ahead of myself,  because routine becomes mundane and I just don't think boring is a good look for me.  However, mediocre womanhood  is not a good look either.  I didn't see that in the fall collections on the runways this season.

So, I'm hoping you will join me every Monday when I report on how I'm coming along and reveal my new life change.  Since I'm posting this weekend, I will wait until next Monday to post my next personal challenge.  If you would like, it would be helpful and encouraging to me if you joined me in this challenge by posting your own weekly challenges in the comments section or on my facebook page.  I can do this alone, but accountability is always nice.  So, who's in?

So This is Love

Your birthday closes out our family's birthday season, yet your birth forever changed my life and the landscape of our family.  Two became one and then created another with the help of the Creator's hand.  Out of time and space came you and who I was ceased to be because I became Mother.  My world wobbled on its axis as love's geysers erupted, threatening  to overwhelm me.  For the first time, I understood how truly amazing God's love is.  I said to myself, "This is love."

I loved you so much, I didn't even think about my hair!

And I will die for that love.  Fight for that love.  I live for the love of you and your brothers.

This love I have for you has taught me much and God has used this mothering journey to mold and shape me into someone my younger self could not have ever fathomed.

You taught me how to fight.
I was a people pleaser before you.  Quick to let others tell me what to think, to conform, and fall in line.  Then, you came along and it was in fighting for you that I learned to fight for myself.  You entered this world with five little thumbs and required major reconstructive surgery on both hands at eight months old.

Surgery day.  Polydactyly and Syndactyly of thumbs

Your list of acronyms is daunting, but with God, I learned to scale walls and fight in the trenches to get the interventions you needed.  I learned to fight with Him, to realize that with God nothing is impossible.  Like Joshua, I have learned to ask the Lord to hold the sun still so that I could have more time to fight and gain victory.  Son, with God, no fight is impossible to win.

You've shown me what unconditional love is.
The early years of your life were stressful at best in our household as two young selfish kids learned how to die to self through the hard work of surrendering to God's desire for two to become one flesh.  It wasn't very cute, son. Nor was it conducive to nurturing your young tender heart. Son of my heart, Mommy is sorry.

Baby, my mothering has not been perfect.  Sometimes I yelled when I should have cuddled.  Sometimes I hid in my closet because while I rejoiced in that overwhelming love I had for you, I also feared it.  I feared being overwhelmed by my love for you.  Feared losing me in you.

My Son Number 1

Yet, I will never forget the night you turned to me on your twin bed, and in your little three year old voice, asked, "You my fwend, Mommy?"

In that moment, I could forgive myself for my imperfect parenting.  Yes, son.  I am your friend.  I thank you for showing me the power of your resilient love. 

You taught me how to release belly laughs from way down deep in my soul.   
I love your infectious laugh.  It defines and characterizes you in a way that nothing else can.  I was a broken girl who grew into an insecure young woman who shrank at the very thought of failure.  You've taught me to relax and  not take life so seriously.

My superhero

You are energy.  You are passion, in love with God's creation and with God Himself.  You laugh through life, son.  And the whole world can't help but laugh along in your presence.

Son Number 1, I could go on, but I border on being indulgent with the attention span of my readers.  You see, there's this rule that says posts should try to stay within 500 to 600 words.  But, son of my womb, know this.  My love for you reaches beyond words, beyond time, beyond worlds, and beyond space. 

Man Cub 1, Age 9

And I will die for that love.

Fight for that love.

I live for the love of you and your brothers.

Happy Birthday, Son Number 1.

And There She Was

Hello.  It's me.  No, not the woman who has been putting her best face forward in an attempt to find my voice and win an audience with you.  This is me.  Unguarded and ready to be a little more open.  Transparent.  Nude face, if you will.  See my blemishes?

Well, you will soon.  God and I have been wrestling lately, and frankly, I am tired of the fight.  He wants more of me.  On this blog.  Up close and personal.  With you.  Exposed so that He may get the glory because it is all testimony anyway.  All of it.  My so called life.

And, truthfully, I did not want to.  On the blogosphere, where you toss it out and it never comes back?  Where people leave ugly judgmental comments about minute fragments of time in your life?

I have my reasons to hide. 

Protecting my family's privacy.

Protecting myself.  

Wanting to win friends and keep the ones I have.

People pleasing.

Staying on the boat headed to Status Quo with all of the others who say the waters are too dangerous, too choppy.  There are sharks in that water waiting to eat you alive.  

I have things to hide.

The private self that is not so pretty.

My less than perfect daily moments that make me cringe at the evidence of my flawed humanity.

Tears, so many tears.

And thoughts.  Oh, thoughts that aren't so holy or lovable.

Triumphs wrought through gut-wrenching pain.

The stuff of life. 

God wants me to expose all of this....for Him?  He wants me to surrender all of this...to Him?  To give up control of my public image, my brand, if you will, and give it all...to Him?  He wants me to trust...Him?


When the wrestling match was over, and I lay utterly still in surrender, He spoke into my heart through the words of my husband as we hashed this out together at the breakfast table.

As sunlight poured onto my empty plate, my husband said, "Trina, it's time to live.  Don't worry about me.  Don't worry about what others think.  It's time to live, babe.  Live by the Spirit and don't hold back."

And, I knew.  Just as I picked up that empty plate, carefully carried it to the sink, and washed it, Jesus picked me up one day and lovingly washed me through the power of His saving grace. 

My life is not my own.  Yes, I have things to hide, but God does not get the glory when I hide all that He has held me through from the eyes of those who need to see.  We all need to see others in their state of crumpled humanity and the amazing God who loved us all enough to send His son to die on Calvary's cross for our sins.

So, I don't know exactly where this blog is headed, and truthfully, I do not care.  I trust Him.  I trust the One who has patiently waited for me to come to grips with the fact that He will keep me from falling and present me faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy.  Please stick around and keep me in your prayers. 

Here I am, Lord.  Send me.  

Now unto Him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy, 
To the only wise God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen
Jude 1:24 KJV

For the Good Times

It all started with a can of paint.  Daffodil yellow to be exact.  It lit up the room with sunshine, sun for my son to be.

Along came a crib, changing table, rocking chair, and accessories.

A nursery.  Place of refuge for my wee ones.  Three little boy blues...

Man Cub 1

Seasons came and went. Years went by.  Babies were loved and lost. Welcomed, nurtured, hoped for, prayed over, loved.

Man Cub 2

They found quiet shelter in that nursery.  Whispers of God's love from my heart poured into little ears. 

Man Cub 3

Well, times change.  A season has come to a definite end and a new season has begun.  Gone is my Baby Welcoming Season and in it's place is the Season of Raising Real Men.

I said goodbye the other day.  Packed up little baby clothes to give away, smelling their sweet scent for the last time.  Preserving those I just could not stand to part with. 

Down came the crib and changing table.  They are helping another mother build shelter for her little ones. 

In its place, the beginnings of a big kid room, a boy cave for my oldest... full-sized bed, locker-style night stand, plaid quilt.

A full circle.

He has returned to his first room, but gone are the rounded cheeks, fresh baby smell, and sweet baby toes.  Now resides a man cub, who emulates his father and craves to find shelter and privacy from little brothers who can't seem to stay out of his treasures.

I said goodbye the other day.  To days that shall only live in my memories.  I said hello to a new season.  Bittersweet, yet highly anticipated.

Thanks for the memories.  Thanks for the good times.

Sunlight on Sweet Face

Photo Credit: Raising Man Cubs (All Rights Reserved)

Adventures in Cake Baking

Our story begins with a starry-eyed twenty-two year old newlywed.  Yeah, it's me.  A sweet church lady asked me to bake a pound cake for a church social.  With a silent gulp, I agreed.  I'm sure my eyes were round saucers.

Well, I'm not sure what happened, but that pound cake did not rise and was as dry as a brick.  With shame, I walked into the church social with a store-bought pound cake.  I didn't even bother to try to pretend that I made it.  I just handed over the bag.

Fast forward to Andrew's second or third birthday.  By this time, I'd conquered cooking and thought I was ready to tackle cake baking.  I planned to keep it simple and baked a beautiful yellow cake with store bought chocolate icing.  Poor guests.  Little did they know that eating that cake would buy them a one way ticket to Choke City!

I resigned myself to store-bought birthday cakes.  

Now, fast forward to Caden's first birthday party. Inspired by my classmate's beautiful fondant creations, I  thought I would give baking birthday cakes one more shot.  Caden is my last baby, so I knew I would never get to celebrate a first birthday again.  I decided to play for all the marbles!

Photo Credit: Raising Man Cubs (All Rights Reserved)

Okay, I cheated.  I used a box cake.  But, I did do all of the fondant work on my own with the help of tutorials.

Well, not to be overlooked, Stephen immediately put in his order for a horse cake.  I got a little excited and gave him the whole farm.

Photo Credit: Raising Man Cubs (All Rights Reserved)

This year, my baby turned two, but at a really bad time for creative cake baking.  It was Easter weekend and we had way too much going on.  So, I kept it sweet and simple and focused on learning how to make chocolate butter frosting from scratch.  I have to admit, homemade icing tastes so much better than anything off the supermarket shelves.  I'm sold!

Photo Credit: Raising Man Cubs (All Rights Reserved)

The soon to be 4 year old is back on the horse cake kick.  I'm praying he changes his mind...

Life's Little Badges

Yesterday, my neighbor called me over and told me he wanted to talk to me about my eight year old.

Gulp.

Enter the sinking feeling in the pit of every mom's stomach, followed by the thought, "Lord, what did he do, now? Straight face.  Just keep a straight face and handle him when you get back across the street and safely behind closed doors." 

Thankfully, my neighbor did not keep me in suspense for long, but went right into a replay of a conversation he overheard my boy having with his friend.  It went something like this.

Friend:  Come on.  Let's go around the corner.

Son: No.

Friend:  Why not?  Come on.  Let's go.

Son:  No.  My mom told me I can't go around there, so I'm staying right here.

Friend:  Fine.  I've been their friend longer than I've been yours anyway.

Son:  That's okay.  I'll make new friends.

Photo Credit: Raising Man Cubs (all rights reserved)

Strike up the band!  That boy deserves a standing ovation!  Son, you just encountered Peer Pressure in the ring and took it down to the mat.  What are you going to do next?  I'm sure he would say something like, "I'm going to Disney World."

Me?  I'm memorializing this moment for all time on this blog to remind myself that even in the darkest hours of motherhood, when I feel like all of my efforts are amounting to nothing but endless piles of dirty laundry and brotherly squabbles,  my children are listening.

Not only are they listening, but they are applying what they are learning.  Now, this does not always happen, but I praise God when it does.  

This is better than the Superbowl.  Better than a bowl of Ben and Jerry's Coffee Ice Cream.  Better than, well, lots of things.

This is one of life's little badges, and I am proud to wear it.