my hands are full

The clock says 10:26pm. Why am I awake when I could be sleeping? I dream about my cozy bed and being curled up asleep (or at least resting) all day long. As much as I may sound like a kid with a dollar in his hand in a candy store... because I can! The house is quiet, everyone is asleep (yes, even Michael) and I have the house completely to myself. I have freedom. It's almost like I'm on a mini unexpected vacation. I can watch the TV without any interruptions, read in silence, sit as long as I want, eat, or check facebook...who cares that I'm exhausted and can't keep my eyes open. I know these things might sound like normal freedoms to some of you but to a mother of 3 very young ones, it's hard to get some Sarah time during the day (or night). I complain often of being tired (and even blame Mike for keeping me up later than my preference) and needing more sleep. So shouldn't I take advantage of this time and GO to bed? At this time my hands are empty from responsibility and for that reason, I stay up just a little bit later.

When I go out with all three kids (which doesn’t happen very often-on purpose) I hear a common statement from people. Doesn't matter how old or young they are. They all say, "You have got your hands full." My sister and I laugh about this because it is without fail that we hear it. She has 2 kids. I wonder if people say that when you only have one. Cause they have their hands full too. Maybe it is because we look overwhelmed. Sometimes strangers say this with a big smile which I take as, 'You're doing good...keep it up....I know how hard it is.' Other times it is with some hesitation in their tone like 'Why did you have three kids so close in age? That’s a lot of work.'

Well, yes it’s a lot of work and yes I’m overwhelmed. But is that bad? As much as I love my 10:30pm vacations, I love knowing I have three precious souls upstairs (asleep!). It’s difficult to remember this at times when I am carrying Stephen (with my bad back) while literally running after Grace in the parking lot telling her to grab my hand as Nathan is running even further up ahead. I’m concerned about their safety but probably even more concerned about what all the other moms are thinking of me. This is when I wish I had four hands…two for carrying Stephen and two more for Nathan and Grace. Having my hands full is a great place to be. I know, it's not fun to have my two year old throw herself on the parking lot pavement in front of all the other parents at school but it’s ok. It’s ok because I love picking her up, carrying her flailing body to the van (shoving her in) and then hugging her. Loving her. Praying for her. Honestly, I struggle with the inconvenience, the lack of Sarah time, the constant sacrifice but I love them. I love them more than I love my 10:30pm Sarah vaca. Yes, four hands would be handier than two, but I’m thankful for my two hands that are able to love my three kids.

House Hunting

Hey Friends,

Mike and I are in the process of selling our home! We are supposed to close at the end of October. So we have been out looking at houses. It is fun to see the layout of the houses and how people live. We have never bought a house together before so this should be fun :) I know many of you out there have bought houses in the last 5 years or so. House hunting may still be fresh in your mind. Any suggestions? Anything we should or shouldn't look for? Anything you wished you had known before buying or moving in your home? I would love to hear your thoughts! Please!

baby see, baby do

I was relaxing on our couch with a glass of hot tea (yummy! if you put flavored cream in it). Because I was reading, I wasn’t paying too much attention to where I was placing my hand while reaching for my glass and the next thing I know the tea had spilled on the carpet, rug, couch and on a bunch of cord outlets. “ Oh shi%^" I accidentally said. The next thing I hear from my sweet 2 year old curly haired girl is, “Oh shi*^”, grinning from ear to ear. She was smiling with pride, not because she had any clue what either of us said, but because she loves acting like mommy.

My kids like to imitate me. If I wash the dishes, they like to use their soapy hands to scrub off their plates. If daddy is mowing the lawn, Nathan begs to go out with him just to be a part of what he is doing. They are always watching, listening, observing, assessing, and learning. I love it when I spill something (ya, spilling happens to me a lot) and Grace lovingly says, "That's ok mommy. That happens." I love it because I know what comes out of her mouth has a lot to do with what she has heard.

So what are my kids learning from me? I hope they are learning simple tasks like cleaning up after themselves, working hard, and eating healthy. Do these things really matter though? Although having quiet children at the dinner table or children who put their dirty clothes in the hamper are nice (and make life easier), is this what raising a child is about? When they are grown and think about what they learned from daddy and mommy, what do I want them to remember? What do I want them to see and feel each morning they wake up and what do I want them to hear again when their head hits the pillow? What am I doing to encourage or discourage these things from happening? Do I think about ways I can implement these things during the mundane hours of the day or am I just going through the motions (trying to survive these moments)?

One thing I love about watching my kids play is how much they enjoy life, especially the simplest things. They see a bird and squeal with delight because of its silly beak. They make up their own words and giggle with delight. They are amazed at the size of the construction equipment we drive past every day. This is when I want to imitate them. Enjoy life...laugh...notice the little things...be grateful. Mommy see, mommy do, right?!

4 years

I can't believe my son is four years old! Let me brag on him a bit... he is reading level 1 books, knows where some of the states are on his map, can recite his address, can tell you the president, is a natural leader, gentle with his brother, extremely social with everyone, is a daredevil and brave, brings so much joy to our family, loves to make people laugh and be a ham, is a singer and dancer, jumps around everywhere, and a precious gift to Mike and I. I can't imagine life without him.

We had a small pool party for him on Friday and then went to Disney with the James family on Saturday.

first day of school

I spent a good half hour or more training Nathan this morning on reoccurring areas where he tends to lose self control. “Whoa!” You might say. “That sounds a little bit like a drill sergeant. He’s only 3.” Let’s rewind my thoughts. Last night, I was reading a blog, which led me to another blog, and then another (you know how that goes, right? kinda like our thoughts). I ended up reading a blog about a certain parenting style and I went to bed wondering if I am not strict enough with my firstborn. But I am daily wondering if I am too strict with him. There lies the problem. I want him to be independent, creative, and think for himself. But I also want him to respect and love others, to listen to directions, and respond to correction. What is a mother to do? Is there something that I should be doing that I’m not? I have been weary lately. One thing that helps me in these times is to train. And train. And train my children some more.

I taught 5th grade before I stayed home laying around eating bom boms, doing nothing…just raising kids. I spent the first week of every school year, teaching and practicing all the rules and procedures of our classroom. They had to be taught step by step the expectations of them or how else could they be held accountable? Try telling 25 ten year olds to line up at the door. It would be chaos. Some would line up at the front door, some the back, a few would look around and see what others were doing, the boys would yell and race, some would ignore you and pick their noses, others complain. Now try it like this….when I tell you to line up at the door you will immediately stand up quietly, tuck in your chair, walk to your designated spot, and stand still. Watch me, I’ll show you how to do each of these steps. Now, let’s all practice. Good! Let’s practice again. The children weren't trying to be defiant, they just hadn't been taught. Lining up was one of the first things I taught each of my classes. I was petrified of taking 25 students down the hallway without giving them specific directions first. I knew if I didn’t it would be a disaster, not only for their safety but for my sanity.

So why should I expect my 3 year old to get into the van properly without repeated instruction? We have practiced many times before but he has had a difficult time lately. So, back to the first day of school. We reviewed each detail again about how we ask to exit the garage door (not run out the house door to open the garage door), walk straight to the van door (not touch all of daddy's dangerous tools), climb up (instead of running around the van) and keep our hands to ourselves (rather than hitting a sister), sit and buckle up (instead of climbing around). This training might sound silly and unnecessary. But it is a success when 3 kids are in the van without anyone's fingers getting pinched or heads bumped by yard tools and we have avoided any fights or tears. I LOVE teaching my kids!!! They LOVE practicing!!! So why don’t I do this more?

I find that when I’m getting upset with them, it helps all of us to stop, and do ‘first day of school procedures’ again. I think as a parent, I forget that I have been on this earth for a long time and know how to do simple tasks, like wash my hands. But have we taught our kids how to do this? How long, how much soap, how much water, can we smear soap on the mirror, can I splash water on my sister, can I get in the sink? Ok, these things will happen regardless if we teach them or not, because they are kids, and we will laugh (hopefully not yell). But what a wonderful opportunity we have each day to teach our kids. Teach and train them how to listen, care for their siblings, show compassion, pray for their friends, enjoy creation, and look for ways to encourage their daddy’s.

Memoirs of a Geezer

A few of today’s events…

A friend was telling me a year or two ago about how she found a used diaper in her diaper bag and wasn't quite sure how long it had been in there. "That will never happen to me! How gross." I can't tell you how many times that has happened to me since, today being one of them.

I try to teach my kids to clean up their toys and to help around the house. This seems like a good thing until I leave my glass cup full of water on the coffee table and I see my sweet two year old from across the room trying to be helpful. It wobbles in her hands and I can only guess that the water is reaching the rim. If I make any sudden movements or noise I know that will ensure a mess.

I put a load of clothes in the washer tonight because my little Stephen had thrown up. The washer was making an unknown rhythmic sound. I opened it up to find a plastic baseball on top of the sopping clothes. Oh ya, I do remember hearing something fall in there earlier today when I plopped down our pool bags on the dryer. I remember multitasking (more like multicrashing)in that moment... I'm trying to get Grace to go potty, remind Nathan to finish his lunch, hearing the phone ring, wanting to change out of my swim suite, needing to nurse Stephen, and throwing the wet clothes in the dryer...I make a note in my head... Sarah, don't forget to check what fell in the washer!" This evening, I grin while grabbing the ball out of the washer and remember my crazy afternoon. As I walk away feeling accomplished I had been Bob Vila, it made the noise again. Ok, something else must be wrong. Mike is outside working hard on his landscaping project (it’s looking real good!) and I call him in to take a look at this noisy washer. A second later he pulls his hand out with a sippy cup in it. oops.

I am intentionally delicate with how I place each foot on the floor as I approach my baby’s door. I stand there and listen. The crying has stopped. I slowly turn the knob and inch open the door. I am anticipating my angel sleeping and can’t wait to look at his little body relaxed. Instead, I am greeted by his puzzled face wondering why the door is creeping open followed by crying once again. Why did I have to check on him?


I am not trained in a traditional art. I am however, a master of changing a diaper in the dark and kissing a boo boo that has not left a mark. You know that old geezer that is quiet and sits back in his chair that goes with the flow and laughs at the odd things happening around him? He laughs at these kinds of moments- dirty diapers in the bottom of your bag, spilled water on the carpet that you just cleaned, sippy cups in washing machines. There are many opportunities for laughter each day with 3 kids and a mom like me.

what is it like to be miss congeniality

I think some of you will be familiar with this scenario (or maybe I am the only crazy one which is very plausible). I am strolling down the aisle at the grocery store, climbing the stairs at the gym, exiting the church doors, and I see someone I casually know but I pretend like I don't. I confess that I have passed an acquaintance without any sort of acknowledgment.

I know this doesn't happen to my outgoing husband (and son). He says hello to everyone...yes, everyone. So why do I do this? Am I being selfish and don't want to be bothered by people or do I just don't like the person? This is rare if ever the case. It's the exact opposite. I want to talk with them and acknowledge their presence (as Oprah would say). I want to be Miss Congeniality. But instead, in weird Sarahland, I look at my cell phone or attend to a child to look busy. What keeps me from saying hello or starting up a conversation?

I find that it is easy for me to approach some people easily and others I would pee in my pants while doing it. So why the two categories? Maybe fear of rejection... It seems I have made two categories of people in my head. One group intimidates me whereas I feel the other group is more approachable. So how do I distinguish which group people fall into? I think for me it has to do with their appearance and their confidence. The quiet person that doesn't seem to have many friends is much easier for me to approach then the outgoing, friendly person surrounded by people.

What is it like to be Miss Congeniality? I think she captures all opportunities to get to know others. She spends time hearing their stories. She is full of laughter. She looks for ways to care for others. She doesn't put people in categories. She has the freedom to be herself and invites others to get to know her as well. She makes a point to go out of her way to say hello to the acquaintance at the grocery store, gym, or church. I hope I continue to become more like this woman.

dads make a splash

Yesterday I was at the splash park with the kids. I'm surrounded by laughing, squealing, crying, splashing, you know...the normal sounds. Then I'm interrupted by an unknown sound. I look around to see if the kids are ok and where this noise was coming from. My concern quickly ceases when I see a dad trying to control a large beach ball on top of the squirting water. A case of man versus water. He was enjoying himself. Not sure where his kids were...I'm assuming he had some there and wasn't there by himself.

I chuckle when I see the dads at play. Being a stay at home mom, I typically see other moms at the parks. But, whenever there is a dad around, it will be known to everyone there. They play differently. Yes, that means louder, rougher, more daring activities, maybe a little unconventional.

Two weeks ago we were at another park. There was a man with his 1 year old son. He placed him in the swing and gave him a push. If he had been a woman, he probably would have continued to stay behind or in front of the child and push him at a safe speed and height, maybe sing a song, or tickle him as he gets closer. Guess what this dad was doing? Sitting on top of the baby swing next to his son, swinging as high as he could. He looked ridiculous...he obviously did not fit and was plainly having fun. I love it!

A few months ago, we took the family up to the community pool and there was a dad coaching his two sons on the techniques of water football. If a kid whined he yelped "you're fine son, this is how you need to do it." The son respectfully responded and continued to have fun. I remember thinking something judgemental like "he should talk softer to his kids." I think my issue was that he wasn't talking to them like I would. This is exactly the point.

I need to enjoy how my husband plays with our kids. I married a man, now I shouldn't get angry when he continues to act like one. Ya, I confess, I do turn my face when my man throws my 5 month old several feet into the air. Is that how I play with him? No...but that is what I love...about my man!

the color green

I was probably 10 or so and my family was in northern Michigan (halla! that's where I'm from) waiting for the boat to take us to Mackinaw Island. If you haven't been there, which I suspect most of you haven't, it is a beautiful island where only feet, horses, and bikes are allowed on the street. They are famous for their fudge and hotels (where Somewhere In Time was filmed). So I suppose the average, or normal kid, would feel excitement, anticipation, and joy that they are on vacation with family. But leave it to Sarah to feel differently. On the contrary, I was worried about what the boat would be like, where we would sit, was it safe, who we would sit next too, did we pay for it, etc. Not joy but distress. Not anticipation but doubt. Not peace but agitation. And this was how many years ago?

This is how I thought in high school... I would mentally brace myself for the next upcoming event that I was afraid of. Once one 'trial' was completed, I would think about the next one and prepare for it. If I focused on only one of my fears, then it wasn't too overwhelming for me. This is how I coped. Why didn't I think about all the millions of things I could be grateful for? I never even thought of it. It is how my brain operated and I never fought against those thoughts. As an adult, I find that it is the air I breath. Probably because I have practiced living this way since before I can remember. I am a fearful person, I see the possible bad, I tense up in new situations. The result? Well, I'm probably not that much fun to be around and I don't feel free to be myself.

It is time I start practicing a new MO. One that fills my mind with thankfulness, not fear. I am making a conscious effort to set time aside each day to be thankful. Yes, this might sound juvenile or programmed, but who cares (did I just write who cares! wow! progress already). I think it takes a conscious effort to change habits. So three times a day while I prepare meals for my little loved ones, I am thanking God for the people and things around me.

I was on the porch yesterday and found myself being grateful for the color green. I really was thoroughly enjoying the leaves. The color was so vibrant and agreeable. Each stem placed carefully on the branch. Each one a little different from the next. Then the wind blew and it brought relief from the heat and provided entertainment as each tree swayed like they were waltzing with each other. Then I stepped back from my thoughts and chuckled. I was thanking God for His creation...yes, the color green. OH MY! It felt like a huge world had opened up. I could be thankful for the birds chirping, or my house right behind me, or the kids taking a nap, or that my husband would be home in a few hours....you see the point, endless! I'm excited to reboot my mind and start downloading (or is it uploading?)these thankful thoughts. To be aware of what surrounds me. To thank God for what He has given me.

slept like a baby

This is how I found little Grace when doing my evening rounds. That's right....she's standing up.

freedom dance

I was driving south in the van on I95 with my 3 children in the car last week. We had some sort of children's CD on to keep them entertained. I bust out in song and dance all while making sure my foot stayepd on the peddle and there was no danger in taking my hands of the wheel for a moment. I don't think you could really call this a dance. I was pumping my arms in the air and moving my head from right to left. Nonetheless, it was fun. It was fun not only because my kids enjoyed watching mommy act this way but it was freeing. To act totally silly, with no reservations, and know that I won't be rejected by my kids. No, not rejected, but praised. They loved it. I love that I can be completely myself around them. I can pick my nose; although I don't want them to imitate me. I can do a crazy Sarah dance and not be worried that they think I'm kooky. I can pray out loud without worryig if I sound spiritual enough. I can try to harmonize to the music without them knowing I am way off key.

And don't you find that when you see other people doing their freedom dance, or whatever it may be, that you enjoy it? When you see the car in front of you shaking a bit at a red light because the driver is really enjoying their music and doing their little groove, you watch and laugh. Nathan and I have been so entertained at red lights while watching the people on a street corner holding a sign, listening to their IPOD, trying to get our attention to buy something. And what are they doing....dancing! Usually they look pretty funny! And we laugh and talk about it all the way home.

Isn't this one of the reasons we enjoy children? They do crazy things that us refined adults don't do anymore. Now I'm not suggesting I should run around the house in my underwear like my little Gracie Bell (although that does sound like fun) but I am wondering what would happen if I let loose and do a 'freedom dance' around others. Ok, I won't scare anyone and go that crazy, but watch out, I may just act a little more like my kids.

no pain no gain

I'm seeing a pattern in life. I'm sure it's not found only in Sarah's life but in all of ours. I'm sure it has been an ongoing pattern since I was a girl. And I'm sure it is for my good.

I'm potty training the cutest two year old girl, Grace. She has actually taken the initiative herself. "Mommy, can I go potty?" and I heard myself say "No, not now." What?!!! What was I thinking? That's like telling a student not to do their homework or a graduate not to get a job. I needed to seize this opportunity or I may not get it back for awhile. Why did I say no? Because it doesn't mean a one time session of training and dry underwear from here on out. It means interrupting Stephen's feedings to help her pull down her Mini Mouse underwear. It means dribbled pee on the bathroom floor and on the bottom of toddler feet. It means pouring more laundry detergent in our washer and scooting around folded laundry on the couches. It means remembering to put her on the potty every hour or so with everything else going on.

My New Year's resolution is to be more respectful to my wonderful husband. I usually don't even make New Year's resolutions or if I do I forget what they are by the end of the first week. For some reason, this one has stuck with me. Specifically, I'm wanting to be kind with my words. I am the meanest and harshest with the person I love the most. I've gotten so comfortable with him that I forget to be slow to speak, quick to listen. So I want to speak respectfully, gently, and humbly. And when I forget to tame my tongue, I've realized I struggle with apologizing quickly. WHY IS THIS SO HARD FOR ME? What is the big deal in saying I did/said this wrong and this is what I should have done/said. I know I'm wrong, he knows I'm wrong, anyone who heard me knows I'm wrong but taking that next step to verbalize my regret kills me.

Last example that has been on my mind...growing herbs. For the last year, (maybe even longer) I've been telling my friend Diana and Tiff that I want to plant some herbs. Since having these conversations with them, they have done this and moved on to bigger and better (lemon trees and peppers, etc) But have I planted anything in a pot yet? Nope. This requires me to get the pots, planting soil, seeds, and do a bit of research. I know it won't take me very long. In fact, to be completely honest, I already have the pots and planting soil. I just have to get the herbs. It is one of those things I think about when I walk past the pots in the garage.

Once Grace is potty trained, it means more money in our budget, fresh bottoms, and a little pony tailed girl running around proud of herself. Once I can humble myself and apologize to my husband, it means being able to really love my husband in a new way. It means being more vulnerable with him and honoring him, which I know will affect our friendship. Once I go to Lowe's to buy seeds, it means cheaper and fresher produce in the convenience of my own back yard. So here lies the pattern. I know the phrase 'no pain no gain.' I guess I'm just starting to not only recognize it in my life, but be grateful for it.