three's a handful

Before we had our third boy, my brother-in-law tried to convince me that the third was no more work than two. I wonder what planet he was living on when their third was born. Either that, or the difference between boys and girls (he has three girls) is so immense, that one cannot even make comparisons.

I’m still waiting for the day of no more work than with two kids. I don’t think it’s ever coming.

Talking to other people who have been there, they assure me that the third makes ALL the difference in the world. (I knew I wasn’t crazy!)

Gone are the days when I pack the kids up for a “quick trip” to the grocery store. I won’t set foot inside Wal-Mart unless I’ve either got some brave help or I’m solo. Ditto for the bank (although I have discovered that the drive-through is a good compromise and the tellers give Dum-Dum suckers to me as a reward for sitting patiently while three boys holler in the back seat. They’re so thoughtful.)

It’s not that my boys misbehave, in fact they’re downright polite at Wal-Mart when they ask for candy bars, new tractors and another fish because Harvey (the beta they so kindly gave me for Mother’s Day) might be lonely. They usually say please, please, please and PLEASE!

They’re also very helpful, piling seven boxes of Honey Nut Cheerios into the cart. Boy Number One reads all the labels to make sure we’re not getting too many grams of sugar. (Did you know that pop has 41 grams while a juice box only has 12?) He will ask me, much to the amusement of other shoppers, “Is this cereal on sale, Mom? Do you have a coupon?”

They’re not loud or obnoxious, but they are a handful.

I’m just not strong enough anymore to push a cart with a baby in the front seat, a three-year-old sitting in the cart squishing bread and a six-year-old who thinks he can stand in front and hang on.

The little car carts at Cub are an option, except that whoever designed them with workable horns couldn’t have been a mother. By the time I’ve trudged through produce, dairy and made it to the peanut butter, I’ve heard all the “beep, beeps” I ever need. Even better is when one horn is operating and the other isn’t, which is more typical.

The people at Cub have yet another option for shopping with children–those immense carts with the two seats in front. Have you ever tried to push one with 60 pounds of boy and another 60 pounds of groceries? It’s impossible to maneuver, especially around all the seniors who stare wide-eyed at this monstrosity on wheels heading directly for them with an out-of-control mom behind the wheel who, trust me, would have more luck with a Zamboni. It’s a bit like trying to drive a Suburban through an obstacle course designed for a VW Beetle. And trying to do so with two boys arguing about whose elbow belongs where.
Someone told me two children are two children, but a third is a houseful. I grew up with seven kids, so I’m not sure I can complain about three filling a house, except that my parents’ home has six bedrooms and ours has two. Ours is full.

But, I’m not complaining. Instead, I’m thankful that I’m learning time management (by not making it anywhere on time), people skills (by learning that children do not respond any more quickly to an increase in vocal decibels unless it’s accompanied by a piercing wail), and patience (what else can you learn from sweeping the kitchen floor three times a day, a baby who throws food in your face and consistently stepping on Matchbox cars and Legos?)

What else is a Mom to do when her days are a combination of tears, hugs and meltdowns (hers, not the kids) but appreciate the humor and know she’ll finally get peace and quiet at 10 p.m.

It could be worse. I could have four boys and more material for this blog.

constant communion

“People sometimes say that the only reason for prayer is that we need to be changed. Certainly we do, but this is not the only reason to pray. Jesus was not being made more holy by prayer. He was communing with His Father. He was asking for things. He thanked God. He was also laying down His own will.”
–Elisabeth Eliot

I don't need to be reminded how important prayer and talking to God is. I already know that. (Something will inevitably slap me across the face to let me know I can't do everything or anything on my own).

It might be a lack of patience with the kids. It might be a lack of trust with finances. It might be an impossible person. It might even be the lack of hours and minutes in the day.

Regardless, there is always something to pray about or to pray for. That has never been the issue.

What I do need on a regular basis is the motivation and determination to stick to it. I can't tell you how many times I tell myself, "I couldn't have done this without the Lord's help." And yet when another irritation, frustration, pressure or stress comes up, I somehow fail to remember to go to God FIRST before the issue becomes too big to handle.

I'm not sure why it's such a difficult concept for my little brain to grasp. My God is big enough to handle anything.

I'm reminded of a song that we used to sing in VBS growing up. The lyrics went: "My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there's nothing my God cannot do."

He has proved Himself time and time again, yet giving up control of a situation is still so difficult to do.

It's not tough to pray to Him and ask for His help. It's not tough to thank Him for what He's done. What is tough, is giving up my will to Him. And it's hard to not get so busy that I don't have time or energy to simply be in communion with Him.

There’s always a million dishes to wash, thousands of clothes to fold and don’t get me started on the number of toys in our house. Life has a tendency to just be busy and take up our time for more “important” things, if we let it. Instead of household chores, my priority should be communion with my Father.

This might take the form of prayer or may even be a simple conversation. "Good morning, God. I'm so glad you'll be with me today. I know I'm going to need your help around mid-afternoon when I've been listening to who wants to play with what colored four-wheeler since 8 a.m. I pray I'll make it that long without snapping. Thank you for lending me your patience and your perspective."

See? It's so easy. All that is required is the effort on my part. I have never felt that it was a one-way conversation. I can almost always feel His presence, even if I don't receive a particular answer to a particular problem right away.

Writer Henri Nouwen performed an experiment of sorts by attempting to be in constant dialogue or communion with God. His results are fascinating. How inspiring to know that you can, if you work at it, have a spiritual union with God that doesn't have to take place just when you pray, but rather all your waking hours!

If you look closely at the life of Jesus, it’s what he did on a daily and hourly basis. He knew His Father not just because He was Jesus, but also because he was always communing with Him.

Jesus’ example is a call for us to be in constant prayer or constant dialogue or a constant abiding in God’s presence.

I know I'm not worthy of the honor, but I'm so encouraged that He would even consider it. I can't help but feel special that God that He would even offer Himself to us on such a personal level.

I pray I can offer myself up to Him a little more consistently.