It's tough

This week, I scoured the classified jobs in the Sunday paper. For me. I'm a jack of many trades. Waitress, lifeguard, day care, corporate, you name it, I've probably worked it. You see, my job right now is hard.
I've been putting in some long hours and they've been so strenuous. I haven't gotten a raise, and no one has told me I'm doing a good job. The people that I'm in charge of are demanding, to say the least. They complain, whine, and it seems like I never do anything that pleases them.
That's how I felt a couple of days ago. That's why I picked up the classifieds.
But here's the clincher, I can't quit this job.
I know that I'm the best there is for the people that I'm in charge of. I've worked with them so long, I know how they tick, and often I can predict what mood will swing next. Every other job I've had, I just could quit when it got hard. But not this one.
This is the hardest job I've ever had in my life. My computer skills don't matter, and neither does my degree in communications. My book knowledge means squat, and my IQ, I don't know what it is, but it doesn't matter.
See, the things that I lack are what I need: patience, love, kindness. Those are things I've read about, but haven't ever had a job where they mattered before. In fact, it seemed like the people who had the least of those rose the highest to the top. With this job I have right now, everything goes against the grain.
I need patience, when both kids are screaming, when they won't go to bed, and when I only want a minute of peace. I need love to explain simple words, to read books when it's the last thing I want to do, and cuddle when I don't want to be touched. And I need kindness, mixed with love and patience. I need it so bad, in the tone of my voice, and in my actions that are being watched.
Being a mom is tough. Beyond tough actually.
Every day that is hard, I know why: selfishness. It's the hardest thing for me to conquer. It's never my kids, it's me. Sure, they have bad days, but they're just discovering this life, they're just learning as they go. I know better.
I know that in order to love purely, it has to be selfless. In order to be kind, I have to put others before myself, and in order to be patient, I have to be understanding. Have to.
The other day, when I was reading the classifieds, I put it down and I realized how blessed I am.
This job. It's a dream job.
It's what I dreamed of doing while I was working every other job I had. And I love it. These little people, they're amazing. Eden and I yesterday had this incredible conversation about unicorns and narwhals. It's one of those conversations that's so beautiful, you replay it over and over. I did, to get sleep.

And Micah, he whispers "mommy, daddy" when he's most content and has started making faces just to get people to laugh.

Eden just learned what the word jealous means, and tries to use it correctly while Micah brings me books at the most random moments and says "read this". They're such simple things, but they are so incredible. They are the most beautiful people.
They've taught me more than any high school or college. They've brought me deeper into thoughts than any book, and they've grown me in ways I've never thought possible. That's what I do.
That's my job. And I'm so glad it is.

I'm open for busine$$

My etsy shop is open! I'll be adding a lot of things in the days to come. So proud of myself for finally doing something I've been wanting to do for what seems like so long. Sales don't matter, I've done this years before and I think I had ten sales, but it's not the point. I'm doing something I love, besides being a wifey, a mommy, a blogger, and a creator of beautiful things.

Submission and a strong will

Believe it or not, this is not about either of my kids. It's me. I'm embarrassed at the fact that I'm strong willed to the point of disobedience and what some would consider reckless thinking. That's me.
I wish I had some cute pictures to go along with this post, but I don't. My heart's been hurting, or should I say surrendering. Surrendering to submission against a strong willed head.

This surgery has been nothing that I expected. It's hard. Really hard.
I thought the pain would be subsiding, the doctor would be kind, I thought my kids would obey, and Mike would say all the right things at the right times. I thought I'd be driving and getting on with life, seeing friends, and taking fun day trips with the kids. None of those things are true.

Realizing the false reality that has been built up in my head isn't hard, but accepting that it's not anyone but me is what's hard. My reality needs a lesson in submission.
I may have to go through more pain than I thought would be necessary and I may hear harsh things from the doctor. My kids are kids, being kids, and my husband may not say the perfect things at every moment. But lowering my expectations goes against my will, and it's strong. The expectations that somehow things revolve around me and my little situation is something that I have to release, and submit my thoughts back to reality.

Life is all that we make it. It doesn't always have a cute picture to go along. And in terms of spirituality, these days have been dark. I don't think I've had lower days, but it's me. My circumstances will always be changing and life will always be throwing things at me, but me, that I can change and handle.
My kids are beautiful and they're healthy. My husband is amazing, Godly, and sweeter than anyone I've ever met. My progress isn't what I thought, but who cares. Really. Life is all what we make it.

Favorites, lately

These are my favorites as of lately, they change daily you know:

working on getting my etsy site up and going, I'll keep you posted

 children loving the outdoors and their big backyard

 alone time with books

 this book

 this camera

 smashbook. it's a messy person's alternative to scrapbooking, not only that, it's like an explosion for my eyes

Tons of beautiful

Today I was sifting through what seemed like hundreds of papers of Eden's drawings that are on a stack on our kitchen desk. Earlier in the day I had taken some old drawings off of the refrigerator and tossed them in the same pile. When I say hundreds, it's probably an understatement. Okay, not really. There's just a lot. I weeded out a few to keep for her baby book. The couple that showed off her unique coloring style of filling in space on a page with some thick, dark crayon marks of all different colors without space between them. Then I saw one that was mostly scribble and tossed it in my "get rid of" pile. I remembered it though and pulled it back out.

Eden always names her art, and this particular one she named "tons of beautiful". As I stared at her art project of what was mostly scribble, I identified with it. I could relate. 

Isn't that what art is about?

The whole relating and feeling the connection, I had that with her picture.

Scribble to many, but "tons of beautiful" to the artist.

Seems like my life lately. I have been up to my ears frustrated with how to handle certain three year old behaviors. Yesterday, I made a sign that said  "She's only 3" and hung it on the refrigerator. I wish I had those signs everywhere to remind me. Or maybe I should put up her little art everywhere, "tons of beautiful".

I get so crabby with all this stupid stuff, so what. This life is so beautiful.

Like this:

 Or this: (notice our matching outfits, minus the gimpy foot)

 Or this

 Or this:

That's what beautiful, to me at least, what's real. Who cares if my kids misbehave. I mean, I know it's not good, and it's not a good reflection, but really, who cares. I'm teaching them. Trying my darndest. And it's so messy. Life. It's messy. Like if someone were to look at it on a piece of paper in the midst of hundreds of others, they would see scribble. But it would be "tons of beautiful".

That's what life is. Messy. But oh so beautiful.

us

Get a grip

I wish I could count how many times I've said that phrase "get a grip"in the last week and a half. It's actually embarrassing when I think about it. It's hard for me to admit my flaws and unjust thinking, and that's why I've been away. I knew that times would get hard with recovery, but I don't think I knew how hard. Seems like that's always the case though, at least for myself, never painting a practical picture of the future. The picture that I paint is usually some lofty and whimsical state of being even in the most unpleasant circumstances. Stupidity really.

Life is such a gift though, and I feel sick to my stomach to think that I took it for granted even for such a short time.

I almost felt like I was pregnant again chanting little thoughts to myself such as "get a grip", or "don't cry". And I'm not pregnant by the way. But amidst all the negative thoughts and emotions, I have done so much soul searching. The good kind of soul searching, the really raw, uninterupted, unintimidated, unbiased thoughts. I've thought about our family and how dear it is to me, not in just an affectionate way, but as in blessing. Like, straight from God blessing. Straight from God, blows me away.

I've thought about my ideals and goals. Am I truly, prayerfully guided, or am I just trying to keep up with the Jones'. I don't want to have a big family just because it's cool right now, or go to the church I do because it's comfortable. I want to be led by conviction and desire, healthy desire, conviction, and passion. Man, I get frustrated at my own thoughts when I'm writing now, thinking how intentional my actions need to be versus what they are. So I will and I do.

I have so much. When I was little, my mom always used to say what I think is a Bible verse, but I don't know the reference or can't even say for sure that it is, regardless "To whom much is given, much is required". I understood it in a different way when I was young, much different, than I do now. I know I've tried to explain it to Eden several times in the past and her response is probably similar to what mine was back then, "well, Micah's not lucky". But he is, she is, and I am. Lucky. Or if that goes against your spiritual grain, blessed.

So, I think I'm out of the pit of despair so to say. My mind is focused on things that are true, honest, and just. Thankfully. I know this is a mental cycle that will probably keep circling my whole life. I'm embarrassed to admit my flaws but so thankful to see a few of them behind me for now. Hindsight's always 20/20.