Here Comes the Judge

Raise your hand if you try to be physically fit. Anyone? Isn't it hard? I mean, exercise has never been my favorite activity, and I hate to sweat. However, I'm in a family of fitness buffs, so it's a little hard to sit and vegetate even when I want to. They started with gentle nudging, "Hey, Mom! Wanna go to the gym with me?"

"With me" means we would ride in the same car. They do not hang out with me at the gym.

Eventually one of my boys explained to me that, just in case our country every collapses and anarchy reigns, he wanted me to be fit enough to run from the bad guys and not get caught. I wanted to know who the bad guys were and why we were running from them ... and where we were running to, come to think of it. I never did get satisfactory answers, but hey I'm a good sport and I certainly don't want to be the one to slow the family down as we flee a post-apocalyptic world, so I joined a gym.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's me. I've been going faithfully, but I can't really say I'm enjoying it yet. Not only is getting fit hard work (unless you're ... you know ... fit), the gym is definitely not my comfort zone. 

I'm not a very coordinated person. In fact, I am quite clumsy. Some of the machines at the gym seem so complicated that just getting in them properly is enough of a workout for me. And I can't even count the number of times I've caught my toe--or the edge of my skirt--on something and nearly fell flat on my face.

Lucky for me I go to a gym that is part of a judgment free zone. They advertise that everyone feels comfortable there and no one is judged.  

In spite of the gym's efforts, sometimes I'm uncomfortable. For one thing, there's a group of "old guys" (Stephanie's term) who hang out at the gym. I think they all must be hard of hearing because whenever they talk to each other they yell loudly enough so that everyone in the gym hears them. Their workout consists of doing a couple of reps on a machine and then standing there and talking to each other for twenty minutes before they move on to the next machine. I think I've figured out why they can still have a beer gut even though they're at the gym for over two hours a day.

Not that I'm judging.

Some of the women are no better. Listen to me, ladies. Leggings are not the same as pants. Why do people not get that? They are not attractive, no matter how skinny you may be. And can I just say, a lot of the people at the gym are not skinny. I'm included in that group, but at least I'm not showing every roll and lump in clearly defined detail.

But I guess I'm judging.

That's okay, though, because I think people are judging me too. Last week a man came up to me and commented on my speed on the stationary bike. Just to be clear, I wasn't on the bike at the time. He had apparently noticed my readout when he was on the bike next to me the day before. I think it's very personal to look at someone else's readout. And that felt just a little bit stalker-ish. The man said he's usually on the bike next to me and he thought I was doing great.

Ahem! If that wasn't enough, a few days later a woman held the door open for me as I was leaving, and she complimented me on my speed on the stationary bike. She also said she's usually on the bike next to me when I'm riding.

So if I understand this correctly, I've been excelling at speed on a stationary bike, while never noticing that there was both a man and a woman on the other bike that is right next to me. You'd think I'd notice something as strange as two people on one stationary bike. But then, since we don't judge at this gym, maybe it's okay?

I'm thinking of switching to the treadmill.

I don't really have a problem with the gym's judgment free zone, but I do protest the gym's enabling tendencies. They serve free pizza on the first Monday of the month and free bagels on the first Tuesday of the month. Isn't that kind of like serving alcohol at an AA meeting?!?!?!?

So how's your quest for fitness going? Are you ready for the post-apocalyptic world?

Open-Mouth, Insert Foot

When you were growing up, did you ever hear your parents say “think before you speak”, or “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all”. Well, mine did. Usually, I have a pretty good filter of what I should or shouldn’t say. Just because a thought comes into your head doesn’t mean it should come out of your mouth. However, recently I have had a few times where I just said the first thing that came to mind.

A few weeks back, I took a trip to Once Upon a Child with my daughters. The aisles in this store are not very big at all and the girls and I were trying to squeeze by an expecting mother. I had apologized because my girls were in no hurry to pass by. She proceeded to tell me it was no big deal because she had a few kids of her own. I got chatting with her and asked her how many kids she had. She told me that she had three. I said “that’s awesome and you’re due with your fourth?”

She gave me a blank stare and told me that she had just had twins. My face turned fifty shades of red and I quickly started to apologize; instead of shoving my foot in my mouth and walking away I decided that I should keep asking about her kids to make it all better. I really only made it worse, and awkward. From then on, I avoided every aisle that she was in. 

After I left the store, I called my husband and told him what I had done. He was SUPER encouraging. He laughed and gave me our famous “FAIL!” Then, he politely told me he had to get off the phone because he had to tell everyone what I had said.

But wait, there’s more.

On Easter Sunday, we had several new visitors at our church. It was exciting! I was on my way into the ladies room and almost ran into one of the visitors who was exiting. I said, “Good morning, it’s good to have you with us this morning.” She said, “Thank you.” As I was talking to her, I noticed that she looked like one of our members at the church. So of course I opened my mouth. I said, “Are you Matilda’s (the names have been changed to protect the innocent… er, people I insult) sister?” Quickly she replied, “daughter.” Oops. I did it again. I mean every daughter wants to be told she’s old like her mother, right? I’ll help you out with the answer: NO, they don’t! Learning from a recent experience I said, “Ok. Well it’s good to have you” and went on my way…

Side note: She hasn’t been back to our church since.

So, have you had what are some embarrassing, open-mouth, insert foot moments you’ve had?

A Day in the Life of Mom

     Mother's day is this weekend. The day where we are to celebrate and appreciate our mothers. And now that I'm a mother of two I've gained a little insight into what there is to appreciate in a mother's world.  So I decided to share a few things about moms. If you're a mom, you'll probably relate. If you're not a mom, maybe this will give you a little more appreciation for your mom.

• You can do almost anything one handed. Literally, I have cooked entire meals and scrubbed bathrooms from top to bottom, all while holding an infant on my hip. It truly is a talent.

• You say the same thing over and over again and expect different results...that's also the definition of insanity... interesting.

• The moment you sit down to relax never fails to be the moment that all of your kids need something done that only you can do for them. Happens every. single. time. 

• You think you are a patient mom, and then you stand there and watch your toddler try to zip their own jacket...

• You hear your name 3,578 times in one day.

• You spend the first 12 months of your child's life teaching them to walk and talk, and then the next several years teaching them to sit still and be quiet. 

• You can completely ruin someone's day simply by telling them clothes are not optional. My brother's are teenagers and I think my mother still has to deal with this.

• You haven't been able to stay awake and watch an entire tv episode since... how old is your oldest?... ya, since about 9 months before that.

• You have the ability to hear a sneeze through closed doors, in the middle of the night, three bedrooms away, while your husband snores next to you.

• The only time you can have some time to yourself is when you're in the bathroom, and even then, there are probably little fingers sticking under the door, and a little voice saying "mommy? I come in and be with you, mommy?"

• You spend an entire day washing clothes and dishes only to walk around the house at the end of the day to find a sink full of dishes and a basket full of dirty clothes. It's like there are little creatures following you around undoing everything you do...oh, wait, that's because there are.

• You go to bed at the end of the day feeling like you can't handle another day like that one, and then your toddler climbs in your bed, cuddles up to you, holds your face, and gives you a peck. And suddenly you just had the best day ever!

     So how are you going to celebrate your mom this weekend? I think she deserves it, don't you?

Facing Mondays

Was it hard to face a Monday when you got up this morning? Sometimes it's adding insult to injury to turn the alarm off and then remember that it's Monday.

I'm probably not the only pastor's wife that feels exhausted by the time everything is finished up at church on Sunday night. And it seems like some of that exhaustion rolls right over to Monday morning. Especially if I'm already facing a list of items that I didn't quite get done at the end of last week, and then Monday comes rolling in like a runaway freight train.

So how to cope?

Philippians 4:4 tells us to rejoice in the Lord always. If you know anything about grammar, you know that this is an imperative statement. In other words, this is a command. God commands us to rejoice. There are no caveats or exemptions or exceptions to this command. He simply tells us to rejoice in Him always.

That means rejoice when you don't feel well.

Rejoice when you're stressed.

Rejoice when you're pressed for time.

Rejoice when you're weighed down by burdens.

Rejoice on Mondays.

I understood the command to rejoice, but I never understood why He wanted us to rejoice always. It's not because God wants us to run around like happy little robots. Or like He expects us to "sell" the Christian life by plastering a fake smile on our face.

Believe it or not, God commands us to rejoice for our own good. Nehemiah 8:10 says the joy of the Lord is your strength. You need strength to get through life's trials? Rejoice. Worried about your children? Rejoice. Stressed about the finances? Rejoice. It's through rejoicing in Him that we find the strength that we need to get through the trials that come our way.

So how do we get from a stressed or worried frame of mind to a rejoicing one? Philippians 4:8. Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

If you focus on what's pure and lovely and true and honest and just, you'll be rejoicing in no time.

Now it's your turn. In the comments, mention one thing you can rejoice about on this Monday morning.

Confessions of a Nursery Director

By no means am I a know-it-all when it comes to directing the nursery. I have been “in charge” of the nursery for about three years now. In that short amount of time, I have developed some tips that may be of help to you.

Parents:

•  It’s difficult when your child’s bedtime is before or during church. Your child doesn’t want to lay down and go to sleep if there is a room full of kids that are playing.

• It may be best to stay home if your child is sick. You may be tired of cleaning up vomit at home but that doesn’t mean the nursery workers should have to do it. Ain’t nobody got time for that! Note: If your child had a sniffle 3 hours ago, that’s no excuse to miss church.

• It’s unpleasant when you bring a child that not only smells like your pet's urine but is also wearing it. Trust me, we would understand if you were late to church because you had to change an outfit at the last minute. 

• When we are meeting your child for the first time and you don’t provide anything for them, what are we supposed to do? Do they need a diaper? We can’t supply those for everyone

• If your child is one who cries for a long time after you leave them, please do not come check on them. If they have not calmed down on their own, we will come get you. We don’t just let them cry in agony for an hour until you come back for them.

• Here's a tip for the indecisive parents. Know what you’re going to do before you drop your child off in the nursery. Please don’t stand around for ten minutes deciding whether or not you're going to feed your baby. We can’t tell you what to do for your child. Only you know what’s best.

Workers:

• We need to look presentable. Before you leave the house, take a few minutes to make sure you don’t have any stains or pet hair on your outfit. Remember, this is a ministry. We need to give God our best. 

• Having nursery duty doesn’t mean dress in your play clothes.

• If you think you will be late or unable to make it, please give a heads up. It only takes a second. 

• Making the nursery schedule is not as easy as it seems. About twice a year, I feel great about the schedule: I think everyone will be able to work their shift. Just when I feel like it’s working, someone isn’t able to work anymore. It never fails.

Being a nursery worker isn’t always easy, but they are a blessing. Often times, it’s a messy, exhausting job and they feel under appreciated. Next time you are at church, thank your nursery workers. Especially if you are a parent, they watch your children so you can be in the service.

What are some experiences you’ve had in the nursery?

2 a.m. Wake Up Call

     I know what you're thinking. You think that you already know that this is going to be about my kids waking me up in the middle of the night, and therefore you don't need to actually read this post. While my kids are awake at 2 a.m. from time to time, that's not what this is about.

     Fun fact about me, I'm a giant scaredy cat. In my mind, when the sun goes down, every bad person in the world is in my yard just waiting for the right moment to break into my house.

 My husband and I have the same conversation every night. Me: "Honey, did you lock all the doors?".  Him: "Yes, dear". Me: "Is the van locked?". Him: "Yes, dear". Me: "Are you sure?". Him: "Yes, Stephanie, I am sure".  I may or may not have some issues. I also constantly "hear things" in the middle of the night. I wake my hubby up often because I KNOW that I heard something in the house. It usually ends up being the wind outside or my daughter rolling up against the wall in her bed.

     Well, on this particular night I heard a pounding noise and I knew for a fact that I heard it. I turned to wake my hubby up, but he had heard it too. "Someone's in the house" I whispered. He got up and got his pistol and headed towards the hall when all of the sudden we heard it again. It was someone banging on our front door. They weren't just knocking, they were pounding on the door. Hubby stuck his head back in the room and glanced at the clock. It was 2:05 in the morning. Who in the world would pound on someone's door at two o'clock in the morning?? While we aren't in a bad neighborhood, it's not one that you should open your door for someone in the middle of the night. So, we decided it was probably best to call the police.

      After calling the police, I went into ninja mom mode. My kids. I had to protect my kids. So, I crouched down and sneaked into my kids room while my hubby did the investigating. Why was I crouching? I have no idea, it just seemed like the thing to do in ninja mom mode. My heart was pounding a mile a minute. I was certain that the person pounding at the door was just a diversion for the person who was about to break into the back door. The pounding at the front door had stopped which could only mean it was just a matter of time before all the other bad guys broke into our house. So, what did ninja mom do? She shook like a scared little girl as I stood in my kid's bedroom silently praying and just waiting for what I thought was the inevitable.

     Finally, after what seemed like the longest five minutes of my life, the police showed up. We waited as we watched their flashlights circle our house. I was just waiting for the shouting to start as they apprehended the bad guys, but no shouting ever came. Then they knocked on the door. They told us that, for some reason, at 2 a.m. our neighbor was outside and noticed that our van door was open, and that he not only closed the door, but also decided to come and tell us about it. They assured us that they checked our yard and that there was no one there and that we were completely safe.

     While that may have been the real reason that our neighbor was pounding on the door, I'm not quite sure why they thought it was a good idea to go to a house where all the lights were off and to scare the living daylights out of it's sleeping occupants. The police officers may have assured us that we were completely safe, but I would not be sleeping at all that night. I laid in my bed with the lights on for another hour or so, and then decided that the only way I could sleep was if I knew my kids were okay, and the only way to know that was if I was with them. So, I went into my kid's room and got in the double bed with my toddler. It took me another hour after that, but around 4:30 I finally fell back asleep.

     I have learned a couple things from this. 1) I have some serious issues that I need to work through, and 2) I would make a terrible ninja!

     So how would you handle a 2 a.m. wake up call??

   

Her Father's Daughter

As hard as it sometimes is for me to be the mother of five boys, my poor husband has an even harder time. Not with being father to five boys, mind you. That he does very well.

No, the times he has struggled the most as a parent is when he's had to deal with our little "rose among the thorns". That's what he called Stephanie after she was born. It's the only time he's waxed poetic, by the way.

Truthfully, he didn't have many problems dealing with her when she was little. He cuddled her, kissed her boo-boos and generally made sure she could play, run and ride bikes and motorbikes as well as her brothers.

Terry was even fairly decent at getting her dressed and her hair brushed before she had to go somewhere. Of course he did these things in a completely manly way. For instance, he hated digging through a basket of clothes for matching socks for her, so he went out and bought her 8-10 pairs of socks that had ice cream cones on them. That way whatever socks he grabbed always matched. White socks would have served the same purpose, but he didn't want to be boring.

The two of them sometimes got into trouble too. Like the time I came home to find that, not only had he given all the boys haircuts, but he'd also given in to Stephanie's pleas to join in. Her long hair had been cut to where it grazed her jawline. As I sobbed over the loss of my little girl's hair, he explained that he hadn't meant to cut it so short, but she wouldn't hold still. And he didn't remember that it was the day before her kindergarten graduation ...

At any rate, as Stephanie got older their relationship entered into new arenas, and Terry discovered that he couldn't always deal with a girl the way he dealt with the boys. For example, when he started teaching her to drive, he took her to an empty parking lot, parked the van and told her to start it up and back out. As soon as she went into reverse, he said, "Boom. You just hit someone and killed them."

I ended up taking over the driving lessons.

I think the time when having a daughter confused him the most was when we lived in Uganda. Stephanie was a pre-teen, given to occasional hormones. I had to go back to the States for a couple of weeks to get some dental work done. Terry didn't mind taking care of all the kids, but he did insist that I had to do one thing before I left. I had to explain female cycles to Stephanie in case something started while I was gone. I was pretty sure we didn't have anything to worry about, but I was also pretty sure that this was one area he wouldn't be able to handle, so I did what he wanted.

Stephanie was already upset that I was leaving without her, and her mood didn't improve when I explained what could possibly happen with her body while I was gone. But then Terry really capped it all off when he had a "conversation" with her a day or so later.

"Did your mom explain things to you?" He asked abruptly. When Stephanie nodded, he added, "Good. Just remember:  if anything happens you can tell me, 'Red ball one. Bag is leaking'." Satisfied that everything was handled, he walked off.

Stephanie didn't speak to me for three weeks, and she still occasionally reminds us of how traumatized she was.

At any rate, I never let anyone feel sorry for her being in a family of boys. God designed our family, and He put it together in a way that was best for us. I told her not everyone qualifies to be a Boyd, and she was the only girl to make the cut. There's just not that many females out there that could handle her father.

So how does your husband do when it comes to raising girls?