Momming On the Edge...

... of sanity, that is!

Dan has traveled a lot this summer. Like, a lot a lot.

Which leaves me home alone with the kids. Alone. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. It wouldn't be so bad, except our youngest is kind of a handful, especially in the late afternoons and evenings - which happens to be the same time our oldest is also home. (He's at his kindergarten's summer program during the day.) She still isn't consistently sleeping through the night (although it's much better than it was). She cries a lot. She's really needy. And then there's the 5-year-old, who is great, but also... you know, a 5-year-old. There are meals to prepare, clothes to wash, the apartment to clean, kids to keep alive, all while not completely losing it. There are bodily fluids and smeared snacks all over the place it seems. There's crying - and not just from the kids. There are missed showers and crack-mom ponytails. 

My parents are not nearby this summer, and all of my friends here are also mommies of small kids, and facing the same struggles I am.

This has left me feeling pretty lonely and overwhelmed at times this summer. 

And yet, we're surviving.

So, here are my 5 "Momming on The Edge" tips, if you find yourself in a similar situation.

1. Multi-tasking

When my 11 month-old has made a complete mess of herself and the highchair, I stick them both in the shower. Together. I hose down the highchair, plop her out, bathe her, badda-bing, badda-boom, they're both clean. She gets a kick out of it, it's quicker than getting out her baby bath, and the high chair is ready for the next day, too. I'm calling this a win!

2. Easy Meals

I cook. I cook well. My husband cooks better, and does most of the cooking. So when he is out of town, I try to make it as easy on myself as possible. Here are some of my go-to meals, feel free to steal them - 1) spaghetti (enough for leftovers), 2) thicken up some of the remaining sauce (that's in the jar, not made into Bolognese) with some tomato paste, buy toppings and cheese and a pre-made pizza dough - pizza night!!! 3) boneless/skinless chicken breasts and a Patak's simmer sauce - butter or peanut chicken! 4) My kid prefers raw veggies to cooked - score!!! Wash, chop, serve, done! 5) Hot dogs. Done and done. 6) since my son gets a multi-course, nutritional meal at kindergarten, some nights we just have sandwiches - and you know what? He loves it. No need to make it harder than it needs to be.

3. Go Out Or Stay In

Whichever is easier. Don't feel pressure to do something every day, unless that's what you want to do, and it's easier for you. For us, some days it's easier to head into the center, and let the baby take a nap in the stroller, and hope I can get a hot coffee in before she wakes up. Other days I binge watch on Netflix. It's called balance, and I'm here for it.

4. It's Okay To Admit Defeat

One of the Saturdays I was alone, I headed into the city center with the kids. I had grand ideas for the day that included a playground, fun lunch, and adorable "I can do this" selfies. Jocie wouldn't fall asleep as I planned, but I sat down at a cafe for a coffee anyway. Aidan was on a fish statue/jungle gym thingy right next to me. Jocie was screaming at me for a snack, and Aidan was asking if he could have an ice cream, and I was so overwhelmed, I knocked my coffee into my lap, after only getting one sip. (see first picture) I let Aidan get his ice cream, paid for everything, got up, and scrapped the plans I had for the rest of the day. I looked at Aidan and said, "I am wet, uncomfortable and embarrassed. We're gonna head home now." So, we bought sandwiches, went home, changed into jammies (it was like 11 am), watched TV and called it a day. But the kids were alive, they were fed, and actually pretty excited to just hang out at home. So... yeah. Sometimes you just have to admit defeat, and be okay with it.

5. Loosen Up With the Rules

We're kind of sticklers about bedtime. But when it's just me, and I'm trying to get the baby to sleep, I'm not getting hung up on what time Aidan goes to bed. It's never later than 8:30 anyway, and it's summer, so... I'm giving myself a break on that one. He wants a snack, even though he just ate? Fine, whatever, here's some pop corn. Jocie doesn't want to lay down long enough for a diaper change AND clothes? Fine, chill in a diaper. It's hot anyway. You want a donut after school? You promise not to whine about taking a shower if I get you one? Super, the donut's all yours.

This obviously does not reflect our normal, everyday routine. But, in an effort to all be alive and well when Dan gets home, these are some of the coping skills we've picked up.

The point is, if you're at a place in your life where getting by and surviving equals winning, stop beating yourself up about it. Today, after we got Aidan a donut after school, he said "this is the best day ever"! It's clearly not "the best day ever", but to his mind it is, because mommy was happy, and he had icing dripping off his fingers.

So, if you find yourself "momming on the edge" today, know you're not alone, and this too shall pass.

What's In A Name?

What's in a name?

Names and their meanings are important in our family.  I'm not really sure why.  It probably has to do with the importance of names in the Bible, or maybe it's because the person being named is stuck with it forever, or maybe they're not even that important, I've just always been interested in it.  Whatever the reason, I've always known all our names' meanings.  Now, people don't always reflect their name's meanings, I get that.  But in my family it did seem to go that way.

Paul (my dad): humble, small.  Now, the "small" part was always funny, because he's 6' 7''.  But he definitely is humble, and always puts others' needs before his own, willing to make himself "small".

Abigail (me): Father's joy.  When my mom was pregnant with me, I would go BANANAS if I heard my dad's voice.  I came into the world in love with him, and except for some hormone-fueled years there in the middle, that hasn't changed.

Jonathan (my brother): God has given. Which is funny, because we all were told we were getting a girl, and my parents didn't even have a boy name picked out, my dad gave the name to the nurse just as a backup, and... God gave us a boy!  Also, Jonathan in the Bible was the best friend anyone could've wished for, which has always been true of our Jonathan.

Stephen (my brother): Crown.  Also, his middle name is "Andrew", which means manly.  Stephen was born a little prince in our family, with everyone carrying him, reaching things for him, etc.  Also, he is now a junior at West Point.  So the manly thing is pretty accurate too, I'd say.

Daniel (my husband): (Only) God is my judge.  I'll just leave that there, lol.

Aidan Judson (our son): Aidan means little fire.  And he is just that.  Every time I wonder why he does the things he does, I remember what we named him.  Judson is Dan's middle name, and the family name that gets passed down on his side.  I love it!

??? (baby girl on the way)

So.  Clearly, we don't take names lightly in this family.  

As I've mentioned in a couple other places in my blog, strong female literary characters are what I feel shaped my childhood, and young girl-hood the most.  So, who do we go with?

Anne - with an E?  Jo from Little Women?  Elinor from Sense and Sensibility? Emma?  Laura (Ingalls Wilder)?  Hadassah from Mark of the Lion?

As I sat there thinking about who I would like my little girl to emulate most, I couldn't help but think of the woman who introduced me to all of my heroes.  My greatest hero, my mom.

Jocelyn.  

She grew up on a farm in North Dakota, in a family of Kathys, Nancys and Susans - an anomaly, a Jocelyn.  She had dreams to see the world.  She had/has style.  She has endured more heartache than a life should be able to hold, and yet has perpetual joy.  She has an infectious laugh, and can tell a story like no one can!  She loves fiercely (fierce being the opportune word - you get it whether you asked for it, or not, lol).  She bravely followed God's call on her life, and left the comfort of the known to live and raise her family in a new culture.  She is solid in her convictions.  She doesn't waver.  She is honest.  She is the absolute most creative person I, or anyone who knows her has ever seen.  She's an insane book-lover (like, read us all, out loud the entire Anne of Green Gables series, Narnia books, The Lord of the Rings, Little House on the Prairie and many others).  She has a tender heart.  She gives everything her all.  She tries new things.  She admits her fears, but faces them anyway.  She's my best friend.

She is everything anyone could hope and dream for their daughter.  There is no one else in the world I would want my daughter to be more like.

Jocelyn means "Joyful".  She is that, unfailingly.  It also means "one of the Goths".  A warrior.  An overcomer and overthrower.  

And so, there is no greater name, as far as I am concerned.

Jocelyn.  

The Day I Felt Strong

Growing up as a little girl, there were many adjectives one could've used to describe me - cute, blonde, graceful, girly, talkative... 

but strong probably wasn't one of them most people would associate with me.  I've never been athletic, and was definitely on the gangly-side.  I have an opinion, and usually feel free to state it, but I'm not one to shout it out loud.

Growing up in a bit of a fish bowl - as a missionary kid - being well-behaved was valued very highly.  As a textbook compliant eldest, this was not too hard for me.  Apart from a lying streak in middle school, I was always mild-mannered, and minded my p-s and q-s. 

As girls, that is often what people expect from us.  Be sweet, don't hurt anyone, and don't be too loud.

With these as our primary "virtues", it's not so hard to understand all of the headlines in the news recently.

Thankfully, I had parents who always taught me from a young age that I could say "no".  My mom was one of those one-in-a-million moms who actually talked to her kids about their body parts - private or otherwise.  My dad one day abruptly asked me on the way to school, "you know about parts of your body other people can't touch, right?"  With my parents, no topic was off the table.  They empowered me to own my body.

There was a boy at church.  He was one of those boys who was always inappropriate, but since we were all still "kids" (about 10-11), no one seemed to think it was that big of a deal.

We were standing in line to go back into the adult service after Sunday school class, and we were standing on stairs.  

I was standing higher than him, and he kept leaning back in such a way that his head was resting in my "lap".  

I told him to stop.  

He did it again.  

I told him to stop again.  

He did it a third time.

I kneed him in the head.

He went and told his mother.

I became afraid, knowing I would surely be in trouble for hurting him, and for being "mean".  The boy and his mother came up to me and my mom.  The mother demanded that I apologize.

Then my mom looked at me and asked me what happened, and I explained it to her.  She asked me if I asked him to stop, and I said yes.

Then she said the most empowering thing.  She told me I didn't have to apologize.  So I didn't.

I had protected myself when I felt violated, and was justified in doing so.

I felt strong.  I was strong.  I am strong.

I am strong because I am encouraged to have a voice.  I am strong because I matter.  I am strong because I can say no.

That is the way I try to parent.  It's hard when we are constantly meeting new people, on whom we have to make a good first impression.  But we've always told our son that he doesn't have to give hugs, or things like that.  We ALSO teach him, that he can't make anyone hug him, and that sometimes people don't want to be touched.  That it is okay to say no, and also to be told no.

I hope that someday we have a little girl.  I hope that she is sweet, kind, cute and talkative.  But I will also teach her to be strong.  To say no.  I do understand that there are times that people aren't afforded the opportunity to say no, and they are taken advantage of.   But I will teach her that it is her right.

There is no easy or quick fix to our world's problems.  But empowering our kids is a good start.

Strong Like Mom

I come from a line of strong women; all in their own way.  I have a great-grandmother who was a nurse, a Gran who was a teacher, and raised 3 boys, a Grandma who raised a family on a farm, an "adopted" Grandma (Mary), who lost her mother and oldest sister to war, raised her siblings, was a career woman, and had to hide under a set of stairs during the Hungarian 1956 revolution.

And then there is my mom, who has had every reason - loss, death, cancer, illnesses - to let bitterness set in, and yet is full of life and joy.

Strong like mom.

A few months ago, Target caused a buzz, because their exclusive line Cat and Jack introduced this T-shirt that had "Strong Like Mom" written on it.  The initial shirt was for boys, then they also came out with one for girls.  The reason this is such a big deal, is because moms aren't usually portrayed as strong, especially not in reference to their sons.  I love the trend of portraying women in more strong roles (cue Wonder Woman)!

As soon as I saw this shirt, I knew I wanted one for Aidan.

If he's wearing this shirt, whenever I ask him what it says, he shouts "Strong Like Mom!"  (He has even been known to say, "Strong like mom, pee like dad!", LOL!!)

At first I wondered if it was maybe a little vain of me to get him the shirt in the first place.  Or if I really am strong.

I have fears and anxieties.  Am I really strong?

Remember my mom, the strongest woman I know?  She can't swim.  Scared of swimming pools, actually.  But do you know what?  When we were kids, she would get in the pool with us, and although we all knew it wasn't her favorite thing, none of us knew the extent of that fear until years later.

Being a mom makes you strong.  You have a reason to be strong.  Someone to be strong for.

So, yesterday, when I had to fly alone with Aidan, then drive home - as it turns out in the rain - basically everything that unnerves me, I had Aidan wear his "Strong Like Mom" shirt.  Mostly as a reminder to myself.

Being strong doesn't mean you don't have fears.  It means that you are willing to overcome them.  I'm going to go one step further.  I think it is important for our kids to know that there are things we fear, or are uncomfortable with, BUT that we are willing to face them.

During one of our airport potty breaks, my sweet, squirmy boy looked at me and said, "mommy, you're my hero", without any prompting.  I could soar!!!  I never ever want to forget that moment.  He will probably never know how much his little 3-year-old self encouraged me.

So yesterday, I felt STRONG!  I felt like I could conquer anything, and I did!  We had a wonderful trip, and I drove in the rain like a boss.

My favorite verse last year was Joshua 1:9, and Aidan knows it by heart: "Be strong and courageous, for the Lord your God is with you, wherever you go."

I am strong, and it's not vain to say it.  I am strong because God makes me strong, and because my son needs me to be.  I am strong.