Wednesday, November 18, 2015

The one in which I tell you how frustrated I am about lots of things

Last week Kid 3 got kicked in the head at football practice.  Without a helmet.  Then he got his head slammed in the car door by Kid 1 along with something else awful one brother or another did to his finger.  Which is exactly why sometimes I go in my room and sleep till forever the next day and hope the house is still standing when I wake up.  

No one ever told me when I had three boys that one day, one would slam another kid's head in the car door and not feel a lick of sorry about it.  Those are things they just don't tell you when you're out there  preparing for parenthood by stocking up on onesies and diapers.

Also this past week my shower broke while I was in there and I couldn't turn off the cold water.  So I had to leave it showering while I called Fireman Dave at work and told him I had an interesting sort of problem.  And can he come home and turn off the shower please?   So the shower sprayed out another million gallons of water while I waited for him to leave work and be my first responder plumber.  If you would like to be on my speed dial list of handy men,  and can fix things like runaway showers and fit throwing tween boys, let me know.  I'm taking applications.

Last week I also called 911 about 3 times in a row about a man wandering the middle school campus who appeared to be out of his mind.  Out of his mind and wandering aimlessly toward children.  So I may or may not have prevented a terrible fate.  Or maybe he was having a medical crisis like low blood sugar and dehydration and falling all over himself on the way to get lunch.  Sometimes I look like that after teaching 4 classes.  Please don't call the police on me.

We have one kid doing pretty well in school, one kid doing kinda well in school, and another that doesn't believe me when I tell him that summer school isn't going to be fun.  It's always our biggest battle.  And that battle led to the tantrum of the century over the weekend which made me wish we had a safe room built underground to hide in.

I'm frustrated.  And part of me is angry about how much I want my kids to care about things and each other..... and basically, anyone other than themselves.  I took them shopping to fill our Samaritan's Purse Operation Christmas Child boxes this week.  And in my mind, I hoped they would walk around the store and think about the things that a boy in another country would like or need.  And at the same time, have it finally make sense to them that they have so darn much.  

For each gift, we got a soccer ball and pump, school supplies, new toothbrushes, toothpaste and soap.  Soap.  Y'all, I wanted my boys to say, Gee, we have all the soap we ever need.  Or maybe, Hey, I never thought about where my toothbrush comes from but sometimes a  new one just appears in the drawer.  Or even a small prayer thanking God that they get more at Christmas each year than a soccer ball and a toothbrush in a shoe box.

But I didn't see recognition.  And I didn't see what appeared to me as the excitement that we should feel when we're really giving from the heart.  But I have to admit that I don't usually feel that too  much at Christmas either.  I mostly feel like yelling for the store manager to turn off the #^%$ Christmas music or I'm never shopping here again.  So I kinda understand the disconnect my boys feel or don't feel when mom takes them to Target and tells them to buy a gift for a boy they don't know, ages 10-14 in another country.  We can't create feeling that isn't there.  Only God can work in a hardened heart and make it soft again.   So we packed up our boxes, ready to ship... and I have to trust that one day the boys will remember that we gave.  And think that maybe it will be a good thing to give again.

Y'all, I think a general rule of writing is to not do it following a temper tantrum by a 12 year old.  I think the rule also says not to write on your blog immediately following your 14 year old announcing that he won't change his bed sheets like you asked him to because he plans to wait for the maid to do it.  We don't have a maid.

Sometimes families are just hard.  Sometimes our family is hard.  This week my family was hard, meaning not at all soft with no comfy place for a frustrated mom to land.

Of course tired comes into the mix.  Last weekend I gave up on all responsibility at about dark thirty o'clock, left the rest of my workload undone, and woke the next  morning at 10:30.  My body rebelling against math problems, teacher conferences, and grocery trips.  And I got fed up with the once acceptable shabby chic bedspread over the old chair in my bedroom and threw it out along with the rest of my eBay sales pile that I can't ever get around to selling...and my new pajamas that maybe I should've given a little more thought to before throwing out.  Now I need new pajamas.

And I got mad at husband.  Because he said something hurtful to me in a way that only someone who knows you really well can.  He went right to the heart with this one ...... telling me that I leave every time things get tough around here.  Granted, I had my purse on my shoulder with plans to go out and shop for pajamas instead of listening to Kid 3 throw his fit, so maybe he has a point.  

But I argued the word, always that he chose to describe the situation.  I think occasional may be a better word.  As in, Kristi is like a beautiful and brilliantly minded bird, occasionally recognizing the exact time she needs to fly south to better climates.  

And then I cried at the table trying to eat the lasagna husband made -  that I said had too much garlic in it.  But he told me to eat it anyway, while my world fell apart.

And I say that in the lightest of ways.  Because I wish I could say intelligent and feeling things about Paris and terrorism and world peace.  But I can't.  And I don't know a whole lot more about anything other than the day to day things that I live around here.

But maybe that's exactly what I should be sharing.  My day to day.  It seems every mom blogger in the land, the Christian ones I read anyway, have been posting at warp speed about the Paris incident of last weekend.  I think we all have feelings about that and other things that make us sad.  But having an opinion doesn't make me qualified to share my thoughts on it.  It's not my job to tell anyone what I think is the right thing to do.  I can't even teach my kids to give and care and not slam brother's head in the car door.  It's my job, my opportunity, rather, to share things that I do well.  As well as things I stink at.

I have to say that I get really tired of reading angry words that people have to say to each other in the name of religion and politics.  I get really tired of hearing people defending their own beliefs and opinions to the point that they're unable to hear the beliefs and opinions of someone else.

I had to think about writing this week, wondering if I should take a week of silence to let people give thought to the bigger issues of the world.  Then I decided that sometimes taking a little break from the bigger issues of the world may be just what we need.   

Blessings to you this week as you go about your day to day.  

post script.... Here's the info for Samaritan's Purse Operation Christmas Child  This is national collection week for packed boxes.  Next they get sorted, shipped and at Christmas,  can end up in any number of places around the world, sharing the gift of Christmas with a child that may otherwise never hear the good news.  If you would like to pack a box and participate, this is your week to make wonderful things happen.  

Oh... and Kid 3's head is just fine.  We were kinda hoping the knocks to the head this week would've rattled around some loose math knowledge in there but that has yet to be seen.  Love that kid like crazy.  

Would you like to comment?

  1. Thank you for honestly pouring out your heart and frustrations. When so much crap hits the fan at one time, it is overwhelming. Add in the incomprehensible, horrific terror attacks and the mind and body want to shut down or at least hide. As women and moms, it's so important to listen to each other and offer a boost up. With my children now in college, I've not focused on Operation Christmas Child like I did when they were younger. Thanks for the reminder! Also, let's grab a cup of coffee and catch up soon! Lynne Beard (clueless as to how to list myself under comment as...)

  2. we should indeed. And you can name yourself Anonymous on here as long as you want. There's probably some trick to legally changing your blog commenting name but that stuff has to be low on the priority list to figure out. First let's all figure out what's for dinner.

  3. Christi Harris-LazaroNovember 19, 2015 at 11:18 AM

    Great post and beautiful writing I can relate to. Enjoyed the much needed break of reading about the bigger issues of the world. Hope you and your beautiful family have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

  4. Christi, friend is why I like you. We have traveled this path of parenting at the same time and can completely understand the good and the bad. I am so thankful for you and for your time that you give me by supporting me on here.


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